#my sister is around the same age i can’t imagine that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwaasfairy · 15 days

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┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT

tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding

wordcount. 6k

a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡

okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader

Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.

“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”

“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.

Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”

“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?

Not that you’re going to go anywhere.

“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.

“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.

“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.

He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.

“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.

“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”

“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.

“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.

He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.

Something hits the floor with a loud thump.

Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.

You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.

Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.

He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”

His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.

You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.

Partly the illness. Mostly the age.

“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.

“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”

Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”

It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.

“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”

He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.

However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”

“I’m sick-”

“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”

You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”

Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.

“Okay,” you say.

It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.

The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.

“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”

“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”

Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”

You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.

“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.

“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”

After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”

Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”

“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”

“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”

Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”

You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”

It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.

It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.

Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.

Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.

If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.

“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.

“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.

“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”

“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.

Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.

Dead.

You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.

They’re dead.

You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.

The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.

“Y-yuuta nii?”

The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.

With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”

Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.

Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.

Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.

It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.

To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.

Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.

His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.

His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”

“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.

“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”

You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.

You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.

“I… did.”

He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”

There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”

The room feels cold.

“... Okay.”

“Let’s kiss?”

It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.

“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”

“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.

“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.

“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”

Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”

It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”

The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”

She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.

Soft. Small.

He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.

Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.

You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”

He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.

“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.

From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.

Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you— just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.

Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.

More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #jjk yuuta #yuuta smut #tw.pseudocest #tw.grooming #tw.noncon #tw.yandere #tw.dark content #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu yuuta #🍯.honeypot

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crljhnn · 1 year

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The older Jefferson

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader

Summary: After Rowley announces that his older (half-)sister, who lives quite far away and has never met the Heffleys, is going to visit him over the break Susan invites his family over for dinner. Her not being what Rodrick expects, he starts crushing, which results in him trying to impress her - failing horribly.

No physical description; No use of y/n

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi, just a quick warning that English isn’t my first language and that this is also the first time I’ve ever written a longer text in English that isn’t a school assignment. I also don’t fully understand Tumblr yet, which makes me honestly a bit anxious to post.

[This and a gender-neutral version are also posted on AO3]

“Why haven't you ever mentioned that you have an older Sister?” Rowley and Greg were sitting on the Heffleys living room floor - Rodrick occupying the whole space on the couch - playing a video game. Well, Greg was. It was a single-player. He promised they would take turns, but by now Rowley had been over for about two and a half hours and hadn’t even had the chance to touch the controller yet. He gave up on asking and settled on just watching about 45 minutes in.

“I talked about her before. Multiple times actually.” That is true. Rowley looks up to his sister a lot “Also, she is technically my Half-Sister. She’s been living with her Dad for longer than I remember. Normally we are the ones flying over to visit during summer break, but she hasn’t visited since she was a little Kid, and after her school schedule finally allowed it, we thought it would be a good idea if she, for a change, came here instead.”

“It sounds like you two get along great!” Mrs. Heffley walked in, holding a laundry basket under one arm while carrying Manny with the other.

“We do! I can’t wait to show her my room and have her around for the entire break! I have so much planned out already, it's gonna be so much fun! Best summer ever!”

“That sounds lovely Rowley, I wish Greg was so excited to hang out with Rodrick, but they just won't get along.” Susan sighed, throwing a pitiful glance at her two oldest, who simultaneously let out a laugh hearing this.”

“Yeah, never gonna happen.” Greg says, “I would rather spend the whole summer in school than voluntarily hang out with this idiot.”

“My Sister is actually around the same age as Rodrick.” Rowley buts in. Greg doesn’t understand how this is relevant, but it probably adds to his mother's yearning for her two oldest sons to get along. Rodrick lets out a laugh hearing that.

“I can’t wait to meet them. Just imagine an older, female version of Rowley. That’s actually fucking hilarious!”.

“Watch your language! Also, I'm sure she is wonderful.” Gregs Mom loosens her lecturing stance, turns around, and smiles at Rowley “I would love to have you and your family over for dinner sometime. It has been a while since I’ve seen your parents and I would love to meet your sister.”

“That sounds great Mrs. Heffley. I will ask my parents as soon as I get home!”

That brings us to about a week later, when the Jefferson family, including their oldest daughter, is standing in front of the Heffleys House, ringing their doorbell.

Rowley has been telling you all about his best friend Greg for years, which made you somewhat excited about finally meeting him. However, you can’t say that the picture your brother painted is entirely positive, finding him rather irritating in many of the stories you were told over time. You aren't too mad though, assuming it is normal for young, teenage boys to act like jerks every once in a while. Not everyone can be such a sweetheart as Rowley. Overall you're glad your brother managed to maintain such a long-lasting friendship.

And then there was Rodrick. You've heard rather interesting stories about him as well. In the beginning, you found those quite amusing, that was until you realized that Rowley was genuinely terrified of him. Not the best first impression someone could make on you. Influenced by seeing your younger sibling grow up to be such a sweet and genuine person you tend to be a bit protective from time to time.

You hear some hushed voices from inside, and you can identify one of them as female, reminding someone to behave. Then the door opens and a woman, who you assume to be Mrs. Heffley, kindly smiles at you. Your suspicion is confirmed a second later when she introduces herself and shoos you into the house, before continuing to greet the rest of your family.

Crossing the threshold you can now see a man standing slightly behind Greg's mother. He introduces himself as Frank, making quite a kind impression on you. Then he leads you into the living room to meet his sons.

The two older ones hardly even notice you at first, too occupied with arguing and rowing with each other.

“Boys!”, their father speaks up, successfully catching their attention. Rather comically their gazes fall from their father to you, their eyes widening and their mouths dropping open. You were not what they expected. While Greg looks just shocked, you would describe Rodricks state as mesmerized.

He recovers fast, pushes Greg off of him, stands up, and puts on what he hopes is a charming smile. Extending his hand he starts to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m-”

At least he tries to.

“Rodrick. I know. My brother has told me one or two rather interesting stories about you”, your smile is sharp. He gulps, his confident smile turning sheepish, cursing Rowley in his head. You are not what he expected and you are definitely not anywhere close to being a female carbon copy of your, in his eyes, embarrassing younger brother.

He normally wouldn’t consider himself the kind of person who has a type, but from now on, if someone asked, he would probably revert to describing you. You were just ethereal, everything about you was attractive to him. The way you walked, talked, and carried yourself, but also your clothing and hairstyle. Your pretty face just rounds up your whole appearance, making you all the more alluring.

He had to get on your good side. While a family dinner, especially with Greg present, may not be the best opportunity, he could ask Rowley to put in a few good words for him. That kid was easily influenced (or intimidated). Still, making the best possible impression over dinner wouldn’t cause any harm either.

You turn to the other boy who has been silently watching the exchange. Now that your attention is on him he starts feeling nervous as well. Your expression, however, turns a bit more friendly.

“And you must be Greg.” he nods. You introduce yourself and lastly say hello to Manny who is sitting on the floor playing with some figurines. By now the others have entered the room, causing Susan to start leading you all to the dining table.

You’re seated between Rowley and Greg, across from Rodrick, which results in quite frequent eye contact. On one side you really want to intimidate him a bit. This could maybe make your brother's life a bit easier, at least for the time being. On the other side, you do want to make some conversation, maybe throw in a bit of (family dinner appropriate) flirting or at least find out if he’s single.

It’s really hard to hold a grudge against someone who is entirely your type.

While you’re conflicted, Rodrick, on the other hand, is sweating. Nervously fidgeting in his seat. You didn’t seem as irritated with him anymore, if the eye contact was anything to go by. Was this his chance to redeem his shitty first impression? He cursed his brain for failing to come up with something cool to say.

Since when is it so hard to talk to girls? Is it getting hotter in here? What impresses girls? What does he normally brag about? His band! That’s it. Now he just has to bring it up somehow. Maybe he can bribe Greg to ask him about it. No, that’s too risky, he can’t count on Greg to not fuck this up. He is just going to casually bring it up ‘I’m in a band by the way, pretty sick huh?’ ‘Do you like music? Cause I’m in a band’ No that’s stupid everyone likes music… ‘Which kind of music do you listen to?’ That’s good, he should bring up the topic of music first, that’s a normal conversation topic. After that step two is to bring up the band. That’s easy, he got this.

Now he just needs to wait till your attention is on him again and then he can smoothly lead the conversation in the desired direction. He has to calm down, he can do it.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m in a band!” He speaks way louder than intended, his voice is squeaky, and in the middle of the sentence he has the most embarrassing voice crack imaginable.

Silence.

The sole attention is now on him. All he hears is Greg's snickering which causes him to kick him under the table.

“Ow!” That was not Greg's leg. He looks up to see you looking at him with a questioning expression.

That’s it. He fucked up. His chances were already low, but he still managed to shrink them even more, making them most likely completely vanish. Great. His ears were ringing, all he can hear is Greg's quiet laughter in the background.

“I'm sorry I didn’t mean to kick you, I-” he starts his apology but loses track of what he is trying to say when he sees your expression change. You're clearly trying to suppress a smile, but it's not working at all.

“You’re adorable.” Rowley chokes on his food, and Greg's laughter abruptly stops

“Rodrick? Adorable?” That’s it. Greg gives up on ever trying to understand girls. How can his stupid older brother embarrass himself like that, then kick the poor girl under the table and still be perceived as adorable by her, especially since she is so much out of his league?

Rodrick however, was still not functioning properly.

“So that band, is its name by any chance Löded Diaper?”

“Yeah.” He is proud of himself for speaking at an appropriate volume without stuttering. “How do yo-”

“I saw your creepy white Van in front of the house. What’s up with that, kidnapping little kids as a side hustle?” You are still smiling, and with your stupid joke you somehow manage to relax the atmosphere a bit, the adults going back to their conversation.

Rodrick too is now smiling, looking at you with an expression you could only describe as lovestruck, even though you just insulted him.

He is contemplating making a joke about how the space in the back could be quite useful for more than just trapping kids but decides against it, fearing to make it awkward again. Getting nervous about taking too much time to come up with an answer he instead lands on “No only kidnapping pretty girls like you.”. As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it, realizing it's in fact not a funny and flirty thing to say, but honestly rather creepy.

At the end of the evening, Rodrick has messed up flirting with you multiple times, however, it’s his luck that you find his desperate attempts to look cool to impress you weirdly endearing. Not that he realizes that. Calling Rodrick confused, questioning why you were still talking to him, would be an understatement.

He certainly doesn’t know how he can have messed up so many times and still end up finding a little note with your number on it in his pullover hood after you left.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #fem!reader #diary of a wimpy kid #fluff #first meeting #oneshot #x reader #reader insert #fanfic

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magics-neptunes-things · 6 months

Text

Snowball and Jealousy

Hello everyone!

As chosen in the survey, here is a Christmas story with Leah Williamson! I hope you like it:) I imagined it in the same world as Fire and Ice 1 and 2.

Also it's longer than I first thought.

Happy reading!

TW: Still none.

You started dating Leah a little over a year ago, a few weeks before Christmas. Both felt it was too early to officially introduce yourself to your respective families, so you flew to Norway, your home country, to reunite with your family and spend the holidays with them. That didn’t stop you from thinking about Leah about every secondm and you had to refrain from harassing her with messages. You know very well how much the blonde cares about her family and how much she cherishes the moments spent with them.

This year, though, you’re going to spend Christmas with the Williamsons. You have already met Leah’s parents, brother and grandparents, but it’s true that you have not yet met everyone officially. I mean, that was before you walked into the huge house of one of her aunts, with almost all of the Williamsons. Hearing the noise, you instinctively take back a few steps, despite your hand tenderly entwined in Leah’s. She laughed at you and your sister-in-law patted you on the shoulder.

"Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it" she told you before Leah laid a kiss on your cheek.

"Let’s go find my grandmother" Leah says, and you agree.

It was a long way to get to her. You probably had time to greet everyone in the room before you got to her. You don’t have a large family on your side, your parents have made the choice to have three children because they themselves were only children. So you don’t have any cousins, while Leah has so many that you can’t remember all their names.

"Oh, my favorite, finally!" said the old woman, joyfully, holding out her arms in your direction.

You smile at her and willingly give her a hug letting go of Leah’s hand for the first time since you arrived.

"Well hello to you too Nan" says Leah sarcastically before kissing her grandmother.

You exchange a few words with her, which you appreciate very much. You miss your family when you are in England and she quickly took the role of the grandmother of heart. Which Leah seems to enjoy immensely, despite her teasing.

"Let’s go find our place" Leah said after a few minutes, when her aunt asked everyone to sit down.

You follow her closely and you have no trouble locating your seats, next to Jacob, Leah’s brother and his girlfriend. There you meet new cousins of Leah and you find yourself quickly to be part of their conversation. After the second entrance, you noticed that a girl around you and Leah’ age look in your direction very often. The first times your eyes crossed you thought it must be a coincidence, but with the passing of time you are not so sure.

"Who is it?" you discreetly ask Leah, leaning in her direction.

Leah’s gaze briefly flies in the direction you show her before she rolls with her eyes.

"Hailey, a cousin. We never got along, we only see each other at Christmas"

The answer makes you gently frown, you thought Leah loved every member of her family deeply. Seeing your look, Leah smiles at you and kisses your cheek, whispering that she will explain to you later. You nod again, putting your hand on her leg.

"Christmas games!" Leah’s uncle happily screams after everyone’s entries are over.

A big smile appears on Leah’s face, a smile you know well. The same as when someone offered a game of Fifa, the same one she has before a game of Uno. The one who announces that she will take the competition to heart and who amuses you a lot. Leah’s competitive spirit is known to everyone, as is her bad losing side. It amuses you a lot, especially when you have to cover her with hugs and kisses to cheer her up when she lose.

You smile a little less that said when the draw separates you from her. Luckily you find yourself with Jacob’s girlfriend, Joanna, as well as Hailey. You have unfortunately forgotten the names of other people, except James who is one of the children of his cousins.

"So you’re Leah’s new girlfriend?" Hailey says as you watch Leah’s team thrown into a game of Piccionnary.

"They’ve been together for a year and a half, I wouldn’t use the term new" laughs Joanna, sitting on the other side of you.

You nod and just smile, not taking your blonde out of your eyes. You smile as you see her little dance of joy and you find yourself letting your eyes slide over a particular part of her anatomy when she leans over to take a pen. Of course, this is the time she chooses to look back at you. Her amused smile and arched eyebrow make you understand that she perfectly understood what you were doing. You smile back and shrug, who can blame you for ogling your girlfriend?

"You’re from Norway, right?" asks Hailey

You turn your attention to her to answer her, also answering the questions she asks you about your native country. You could talk about it for hours. You’ve taken Leah twice already there and you can’t wait to leave for a whole week with her at least in January. You have to admit that you get a little lost in your conversation and you wonder why Leah and she don’t get along. She looks pretty nice. You don’t notice that says Leah’s upset look at you from a distance.

When the game is over, Leah quickly makes her way to you and puts her two hands on the armrests of your chair to lean over you.

"Come breathe some fresh air with me?"

"With pleasure" you smile

Leah doesn’t back down when you get up even if she gets up when you do. Your lips ghost hers, causing electric currents throughout your body. Your smile expands and you let her willingly put a kiss on your lips, before grabbing your hand to train you in the snowy garden. All of that, ignoring her cousin with perfection.

Children, dressed from head to toe, run and play, shouting joyfully. A soft smile appears on your face this time, the memories of your winters in Norway coming to mind. Since there are fewer people, you allow yourself to put your two arms around Leah’s waist and let yourself go against her. A year and a half has passed and you still find it frustrating not being able to touch her as much as you would like. But Leah is more of the kind to be discreet without being secret and you obviously respect her choices. On the other hand, you don’t see yourself going into an intense kissing session in public.

Leah puts her arms around you and puts several kisses on your face.

"Great victory" you do mischievously.

"As if it was going to happen otherwise" Leah replies with a goofy grin.

"I’m disappointed though, I won’t need to give you dozens of kisses to make you forget your defeat."

Leah laughs and you look up at her with a smile on her face. You love her laughter and being the reason of it.

"So, what’s the deal with Hailey?" you ask after a few minutes.

"Nothing special except she spent her teenage years flirting with my girlfriends or crushes and trying to steal them from me." sighs Leah, frowning. "It worked one time"

"Oh" you mumble while playing with her sweater. "She even tried with Jordan?"

"She never met Jordan. The first time she was in Australia and then Jordan was in her family. I didn’t really want them to meet, to be honest."

"Why?" you ask while frowning.

"I didn’t particularly want to see my girlfriend get picked up by my cousin."

The answer is logical, but your question involved something else. Leah has always been very honest with you about her relationship with Jordan. But you have to admit that to see that some people always seem to regret their relationship while you don’t hide yours… It’s painful. It obviously has nothing to do with a confidence you wouldn’t have in Leah, quite the contrary. You have complete and complete confidence in her. But your mind doesn’t wait à second to play with you. Are you less important on Leah’s life than Jordan was?

"Why am I here then?" you whisper after a moment of silence, trying to ignore the strange sensation in the pit of your belly.

"I thought she would have changed over time" sighed Leah "I was wrong."

Your insecurities give way to misunderstanding this time. You rise your eyes again, so that you can observe her at best.

"What are you talking about?" you ask while frowning.

"Oh please Babe, don’t tell me you didn’t notice her little game"

"We were just talking about Norway?"

You are lost and you look at Leah without understanding what she means. The pretty blonde looks at you a few seconds before smiling and rolling her eyes, realizing you aren't playing with her.

"It’s true that you have trouble realizing when someone is interested in you, I practically had to jump on you in a hospital bed for you to realize it"

You pout, even if your memories of that moment are intact in your memory. Like your first kiss, for that matter.

"When someone talks to you looking into your eyes, leaning in your direction with a hand on your arm or your knee, it’s an seduction attempt, Y/N."

"Oh."

Leah rolls her eyes again and smile before biting the corner of your jaw with a playful air on her face. You shove her elbow playfully, trying to escape her hold. You finally succeed, running away. Your feet slide on the snow trampled by others before you, but you manage to get away from Leah, passing the corner of the house. Knowing that you will not be able to walk away for a very long time, you take advantage of the few seconds that you have to take a handful of snow and turn it into a ball.

When Leah appears at the corner of the building, you send her the snowball, aiming a little too well since it arrives in full head. Fortunately, you didn’t squeeze the ball too much and the snow spread quickly in all directions and doesn't hurt her. It doesn’t seem to soften Leah, who stops dead and looks you right in the eyes.

"You’re so dead, Darling."

You swallow. You're so dead.

"I’m sorry?"

She resumes her race to catch you and you try to keep her in distance but she managed to catch you after a few meters, tackling you in the snow. The cold and humidity make you squeek, but it doesn’t stop Leah straddling your waist.

"I thought the Norwegians weren’t afraid of the cold?" said Leah maliciously, leaning over you.

"I never said anything about the snow getting in my clothes"

Leah laughs and throws you a handful of snow in the face to make a good figure and not show how much she has a soft spot for you. She has a reputation to uphold after all. But that doesn’t stop her from helping you rise up and take you back against her right after. You sigh at ease while putting yourself against her, your face in the hollow of her neck.

"I’m glad you’re here" said Leah after a few seconds, her lips in your hair.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm" she hums softly. "Just remind me to make sure to keep you away from Hailey next time."

"Will I really need to remind you?"

Your request is made with a small laugh and you lift yourself from her to look at her with amusement. Jealousy is a trait that you didn’t prepare for in her. But since you consider it a proof of love, it’s far from disturbing you. She’s jealous, but not so possessive. The difference is important to you.

"No, certainly not" Leah laughs before kissing your lips. "You’re mine."

"Yours"

You barely have time to exchange a new kiss that a cry of child sounds near you, making you both turn. Covered in snow from head to toe, James seems satisfied to find Leah.

"Lee! Jacob said the Arsenal players suck and then he threw me in the snow!"

"What?! I’m coming!"

Without hesitation, Leah hurries to join James and the Arsenal defenders in the snowball battle that began outside the house. When you come back with Leah’s coat, she’s already soaked, but she accepts it with pleasure. Her gloves too. And since you’re here, she takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from you before training you in battle. After all, it’s also your duty to defend Arsenal, right?

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

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kookslastbutton · 1 year

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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) || ch.I

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4,187

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), flirty banter, fighting, jk has a bit of a temper, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, Heaven+

A/N: Okay I have been having such baby fever for last few years no joke. I wanna be mom or aunty but my sister won’t have kids yet! So i write this lame series to cope even though it's lowkey sad? lmao. Enjoy!! 🥰

༓ ch. II >> | series masterlist

You’re not exactly sure when it happened but one minute you’re crouched over, sketching in your journal and the next, a child with big brown eyes comes up beside you to watch over your shoulder. He’s a cute little fella, you note. Can't be more than four years old. His hair is ink-black and on the longer side. He’s got on a pair of black and white checkered pants, navy blue sweatshirt, and a toy snug under one arm. At first glance, you struggle to make out the toy but it looks like an elephant.

“Hi…” His hand reaches for you. It tugs the edge of your dress sleeve before reaching down to latch onto a few fingers. You smile up at the child, warmth immediately beaming through your heart.

“Hi sweetheart,” you say. “What’s your name?” You wait for the boy to answer but he doesn’t. Instead, he shuffles down next to you on the grass and points to your drawing. His delicate eyebrows knit together in an inquisitive manner. “What is this?” he asks.

You look down at your drawing, examining it from various angles. It's unfinished but you're working on a sketch of the pond nearby. You've managed to capture the sun-kissed water but the sky needs more work. Being the weekend, you couldn't give up the rare opportunity to indulge in your favorite hobby. “It’s the pond with all the colorful leaves,” you reply.

Blank face, the child thinks before speaking again. “Who taught you?”

Now that's an interesting question. Drawing had always been in your blood since a child. You fell in love with the ability to let your imagination run wild on paper whether it be on the back of your homework or even cardboard. To you, drawing was freedom and discovery. It allowed you to express emotion, memories, abstract thoughts, and to recreate the real world. You typically preferred sketching with drawing pencils but occasionally dabbled with watercolors. You had a gift for it–a natural gift.

By the time high school rolled around, you tended to hole up in the art room, sketching for as long as you could. Your art teacher suggested you go to school for it come senior year which gave you enough push to bring it up to your parents. Determined, you spoke to your parents about it but it was null–art could only be a hobby, it couldn’t support your future. They suggested you go to school for economics or finance instead. You nearly hurled at the idea but you eventually agreed, knowing they’d never pay for you to go to art school. Drawing, as you found out, had to be on the side.

"I had a teacher once in school," you say. "But I mostly learned myself."

The child tilts his head to the side, a puzzled look on his face. “You?”, he says.

You nod your head in affirmation.

“No way! Even I have art teacher.”

You chuckle lightly and move to stand up from the grass, needing to stretch due to your crouched position. He follows suit, still clinging to your hand. “Where you going, Eomma?”

Eomma...That's a name you don't get called often. You're not used to being seen as the mom type. In fact, when you tied the knot with Jungkook, the two of you agreed that having a family was a grey area. You both liked kids, sure, but being parents? That was a subject neither of you seriously considered. “I’m sorry sweetheart,” you coo. “I’m not your Eomma. But, let’s find her together, okay?”

The child shakes his head, refusing to budge. "Mm no," he says, clinging to your leg. "Wanna stay with you." Your heart skips a beat. Children don't typically take to you like this. It causes something inside of you to want to lunge down and pick up the child in a tight embrace. But you nip that thought in the bud when you catch sight of a woman roughly your age jogging toward you. She looks like the child’s mother.

“Si-woo!” She gives a wave. "Si-woo come here!"

“Eomma!” The child’s cheeks rise into a big grin as he watches his mom approach nearer. He lets go of your leg but his hand remains locked in your own. You end up squeezing Si-woo’s tiny hand but then, like a bitter aftertaste, you remember– he doesn’t belong to you. You loosen your grip and allow him to run back to his mom.

“It was nice meeting you Si-woo!” There’s a hint of sadness in your tone but you do your best to brush it off. You only knew Si-woo for a short while and now he’s back with his real mom. You should be happy but when Si-woo’s mom lifts her son, she gives you a scowl. She doesn’t even come up to say anything to you but turns around and carries her son back to their picnic area. You frown realizing you were merely a stranger who little kids are told not to talk to.

You sigh and glance at your unfinished drawing. Suddenly, you don’t feel like drawing anymore. You pack up your belongings in your bag and head to your car, the event replaying in your mind.

You can’t blame Si-woo’s mom for being a little rigid, you think. You’d share a similar reaction with your own kids if you had any–if you had any. You repeat the phrase unexpectedly. Were you warming up to the idea? Your marriage did recently surpass the two-year mark, perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to consider having…no, you mentally stop yourself. Yes, Si-woo was cute but it likely wouldn't happen. You toss your bag of art supplies in the back seat and drive home.

“Jungkook! You here?” You step into your shared apartment and drop your bag on the kitchen counter. The smell of burnt wax mixed with vanilla bean hits you as soon as you walk into the living room. “Jungkook you better be home or these candles are going in the trash!” You really didn’t mind the candles but your husband had a nasty habit of keeping them lit even when you were both out of the house. He didn’t do it on purpose, of course, it was accidental but it was too much of a fire hazard to ignore.

“Kook!” you holler again, but no reply. These damn candles. You snuff them out one by one before venturing into the bedroom. Thankfully none were lit in there. You reach behind your back and unzip your dress, letting it pile around your feet. It's a beautiful dress but you were dying to get into a pair of sweat shorts and a t-shirt.

“Hey honey,” Jungkook says, emerging from the bathroom with damp hair and a towel tied around his waist. You let out a yelp before making eye contact. You've always been easily startled. “How was the park?”

Mentally, you bite your lip. This man was getting sexier every day, especially with that gold band wrapped around his fourth finger. You toss a t-shirt over your head. “Absolutely wonderful. Been a while since I’ve been able to really focus and draw. I loved every second." Should you mention the child? You pause, briefly contemplating the thought. Why not? "A really cute kid came up to watch me draw too…’til his mother took him away.” You don't notice but you nearly spat the last part.

Jungkook lets out a small snort, amused by your sudden irritation. There were many things he knew you could put up with, a resilient woman you were. But whoever this kid’s mother was must have gotten under your skin in the most unusual way. “It’s great you had a good time but you sound borderline offended about whoever this kid’s mother is.”

“It’s nothing really.” You shrug. “The kid came up to me and grabbed my hand. We had a nice talk but then his mom showed up. She didn’t even say hi to me. She just picked up her son and scowled at me like I took him or something. Believe me, I get it. But I didn’t do anything!”

“Don’t think about it too much __. She was probably just worried about getting her son back. I’m sure she did mean anything.”

“I guess. But do I really look that harmful?” You face your husband, hands perfectly poised on your hips.

Jungkook strides over to you and strokes down your arms until your hands relax to your sides. He gives you a quick peck on the lips. “Yes.”

Surprised, your mouth falls open. How dare he?! You give a pout, one that Jungkook finds especially irresistible. “Then you can keep your hands and lips off me for the rest of the night, Mr. Jeon.” You wiggle out of his grasp.

“That’s what I’ve been telling you for the past four years Ms. y/l/n. But you couldn’t stay away, could you? Just had to marry your hot professor, you naughty girl.” Jungkook grabs you again, pressing himself against your torso. You squeal at the contact. Married for two years and you’re still a blushing mess, get it together __!

“I wasn’t the one who was grabbing my student’s ass after class halfway through the first semester,” you quip, gripping his biceps. “I’m innocent.”

“Oh honey, nonono. You don’t get to play the role of a shy little angel who got eaten by her big bad wolf of a professor day one of university. You were already a master's student when we met. You knew what you were getting into when you started wearing tight little skirts to my class.”

You roll your eyes. “C’mon I had leggings underneath and I wore sweaters. If you’re accusing me of seducing you through my wardrobe then you have a very odd way of getting turned on.”

“Honey, how long have you known me? Sure tits and ass are cool and I won’t say no if you wanna show me.” You give a light shove on his shoulder at that, Jungkook chuckles. “But I have a doctorate in economics. Nothing catches my interest more than a studious individual like yourself studying all the angles of supply and demand. Plus, I liked your sweaters. Made me curious what you were hiding.”

“Oh stop it!” You end up giggling at your husband’s beyond-cheesy explanations. “How am I supposed to know my economics professor was ogling my teddy bear sweater for fuck sake?”

Jungkook throws his head back, feigning frustration. “It wasn’t a teddy bear sweatshirt. It was a bunny and it was very cute!”

“Whatever. Point is, I’m not the one to blame. I was a good student getting her master’s like her parents wanted until she found out her professor was sculpted from the gods themselves. Your shirts were barely fitting you. I swore they were going to bust one of those class periods.” You imagine the horrified look your peers would give. Not you though, you'd probably start drawing him. Shameless, really.

“As I recall that shirt-busting happened many times by your claws. I had to replace a dozen shirts in a month from how many you destroyed.” A pair of manly hands sensually trace down your sides. Jungkook leans forward, lips near your ear. “Seems like you had a lot of pent-up energy.” He nips your ear before peppering small kisses down your neck.

“You have no idea.“ You close your eyes, a moan escaping from you. "Professor–"

Jungkook grunts, suddenly suckling on the sensitive skin. “Mmm you haven’t called me that in a while. Kinda missed it”, he says, backing you up against the dresser. You were about to hop on top when your ass hit the edge but a rude, obnoxious ringing pulled Jungkook off you.

“Hey man!” Your husband answers the phone, a little too joyous in your opinion. You knew exactly who it was on the phone–Park Jimin. You bite your cheek, doing your best to keep down a sour face.

“Yeah let me ask __. Hold on.” Jungkook looks at you. “Honey, Jimin wants us to go out to dinner with the guys. You wanna go or stay in?”

Maybe, you think. You love Jimin but his dinners are usually quite elaborate. He always makes reservations to the fanciest restaurants in Seoul, and he required everyone to be dressed to the hills. It was fun now and then but did you have the energy for that tonight? Eh. What the hell. “Sure. What time?”

Jungkook passes on your inquiry before looking at you again. “6 p.m.” You nod in consent and walk to your closet, rummaging through your clothes for something Jimin-worthy. “Alright man, we’ll see you there. Yeah got it, k bye.” Jungkook hangs up the phone and watches you pull out dress shirts, pants, blazers, literally all your work clothes. “Found anything?” he pipes up.

You pull out a dark green dress, above knee-length, and gorgeously hemmed. “I’m pretty sure I wore this last time but–“

“Next," Jungkook interrupts. "Jimin will notice and you know how he gets when people wear the same outfit twice in a row.” your husband fiddles with through his own dresser drawers, yanking out an oversized t-shirt. You groan knowing all too well how tight Jimin ran this operation. One time Namjoon came in the same maroon dress shirt as before causing Jimin to have an absolute fit. He even made the man go home and change. Dinner was late that night.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You rummage through your closet again hoping to find something tucked in the back. There’s bound to be something. “Damnit, I thought I had more than this,” you grunt, finding nothing.

“Do we need to go on a last-minute shopping trip?” Jungkook throws on a pair of cargo pants.

You groan internally. Shopping isn't your favorite activity. It always took so long, and nothing was to your liking. You prefer online shopping but with only three hours until dinner and apparently nothing in your wardrobe, you suppose it's inescapable.

“Come on, honey.” Jungkook combs through his hair with a few fingers and grabs his wallet from the nightstand. “This is for Jimin."

"Alright, let me put some jeans on.” Jimin, you bougie little punk.

You view yourself in the dressing room mirror, a plum-colored dress adorning your body. This is the tenth dress you've tried on and to be honest, you feel pretty good in it. Nothing feels itchy, too snug, or out of place. The dress was a simple, strapless sheath dress and it fit you like a glove.

"__." Jungkook taps on the door. "You're not gonna like what I have to say but it's inevitable…there's been a change of plans."

"Okay," you reply with strain. "What is it?" You unlock the door to find your husband glancing down at his phone. It's a text from Jimin, you notice.

"Sorry for this but we're not going out for dinner tonight. Seokjin's daughter isn't feeling well so they're going to stay home. Yoongi also hasn't been able to get much time with his kids and wife lately so he's not coming either." Jungkook continues reading Jimin's text aloud. "I don't think we should go out without the whole party so I'm thinking about canceling our reservations."

Damn.

"You look beautiful," he says, catching your half-disappointed expression. "I'm sorry."

"It's no big deal," you sigh. "We'll eat in." From Jungkook's point of view, you were upset about wasting an hour and a half on shopping. He knew you'd much rather be back with your drawing pencils or watching a drama. He felt bad. The real reason, the one you think best to keep to yourself, however, is that hearing Jimin's text reminded you of Si-woo again. Further, it reminded you that nearly everyone in your friend group had at least one kid except you and Jungkook. Normally it didn't affect you though, so why did it today? Had the little kid from earlier really stuck with you that much?

"__? Everything alright?," Jungkook says. "I know we had plans and we've been shopping for a while but if you like the dress you should still get it. Jimin will have his dinner again and there will be other times you'll need it."

It takes you a moment but you reply, forcing a fake smile the best you can. "Oh yeah, yeah I'm good. I dazed off for a second there. I'll–I'll put the dress back actually."

Seeing through your facade, Jungkook lightly grips your arms. "If there's something you're not telling me I'd like to know, please?"

His endearing facial expression both soothes you and creates coils of nervousness in the pit of your stomach. You want to tell him what's up. You also want to pop the question that you've both been sweeping under the rug for the last two years. But how? Maybe you shouldn't. Maybe you're just in a mood today.

"Have–" You start but the rest of the words don't come out.

Jungkook waits for you to finish the sentence. "Have you thought of any ideas for dinner?" You stutter out. "'Cause I was thinking it’d be easier to order takeout tonight."

Eyes narrowing, your husband stares into your eyes. He's searching for any hint that you're bluffing–shifty eyes and such. You think he's caught onto you until his shoulders relax and eyebrows soften. "I was thinking the same thing. But also, I'm buying you this dress even if you don't. It's gorgeous on you and I know you want it. Now take it off and let's go find something to eat."

You manage to chuckle a "thank you" and slip back into the stall to change into your normal clothes. You feel a slight pang of guilt in your gut for not coming clean to him but you weren't sure if you were ready to tell him the truth no more than he'd be ready to hear it.

“Seriously honey.” Jungkook’s voice carries over the stall. “Are you really alright? Do you need anything?” You swallow hard at his persistence.

“I’m perfectly fine,” you reply. “Maybe a little hungry.” One day at a time __, you think.

You end up placing a dinner order at a local favorite nearby. You and Jungkook take it back to the apartment, curl up on the couch, and put a movie on. You nearly fall asleep after the first forty minutes because the plot is so utterly dry and quite frankly, boring. Jungkook seems to be enjoying it though so the movie plays the entire way through.

Still hardly paying attention, your mind drifts off to other affairs. You think about your upcoming work week, what to get for your best friend's birthday in the following few weeks, and the cute dog you saw yesterday, and of course, you loop back to the same lingering topic–your brief afternoon with Si-woo. Part of you wanted to take him home but Jungkook would have a fit, as well as you know...Si-woo's mother. You snort at how interested you've become in entertaining thoughts about children and taking care of them. As you've covered before, you aren't the mom type.

Si-woo and his mother looked very similar though. They shared the same hair color, eyes, and face shape. You wonder what his father looked. Did he have long hair too? Did he share the same lips? Before you can stop yourself from going further you wonder how identical your own child might be to you and Jungkook. Would your child love the arts like you or the social sciences like your husband? You suppose it could be a blend since you technically have a master's in economics yourself. You'd much rather be owning and operating an art museum or being a studio art professor but that's beside the point. Your child would be free to venture down their own path. That is if you have any.

You shift your eyes to Jungkook who's concentrating heavily on the movie. He's a wonderful husband, you sigh, full of love. No doubt he'd make a great father but did he want to? Jungkook never really mentioned it before and neither did you. When you first start dating you had a brief talk about children and building a family but you were still in school then and Jungkook was swamped with his teaching responsibilities. Children weren't something that either of you felt like you could handle at the time. After you'd gotten married there was an opportunity to discuss it again but you were both quite comfortable with it being just the two of you. Today is the first day you've shown any serious aversion to your comfortable lifestyle–you want a baby.

Once the credit scenes appear Jungkook feels your eyes burn through him from your lounged position. "You're making that face again," he says.

"There's no face."

"Yes there is."

"I don't think so."

Patience running thin, the tone in your husband's voice gets firmer. He's not angry but it's clear his temper is rising. You and Jungkook haven't had a spat in a while and you really don't want to start now. "I can see that there's something on your mind. It's the same one you had from the dressing room and I'm pretty sure it isn't about food this time."

"I don't know what you want me to say," you mumble tiredly. You sit up straight. "My face is my face."

"Honey, I know there's something going on that you're not telling me. Is this about that kid's mother from earlier? Because I'm certain it wasn't personal."

"No, it's not about that at all. It's just been a long week and I'm exhausted," you lie, yawning as if on queue. Jungkook grips the couch arm in agitation. He isn't sure what's going on but he isn't letting you go to bed without getting to the bottom of it.

"You're not having second thoughts about our marriage are you?" He throws the idea out there, hoping its obvious inaccuracy will push you to tell him the truth. You grimace at the guess.

"That's ridiculous!" You sneer. "How could you think that?"

"Well maybe because you're not telling me anything else?" Jungkook tosses his hands up. "I mean who knows, it could be anything. Was it the movie? Shopping? Are you horny? What the fuck is it?!" You jump at his sudden outburst.

"No it's none of those–"

"Look," Jungkook cuts shortly. "Will you just tell me so we can deal with it?!" You throw him a nasty look.

"Just deal with it? Like it's some kind of nuisance of an issue that needs treatment?" You jump up from the couch and head to your bedroom in a fury, your husband hot on your trail.

"I don't mean to be pissing you off, sweetheart but I know something's up." He follows you into the bathroom, watching you reach for your toothbrush. "Can you please slow down and talk to me?" He grabs the toothpaste before you can, forcing you to stop in your tracks. You feel your body starting to shake, eyes tearing up. You friggin' hate fighting and you hate being so unsure about telling him the truth–that you want a family. You're scared of his response most. What if he says no?

Realizing your nervous state, Jungkook takes a deep breath and softens his tone. He hates seeing you cry and he hates it even more when he's the one causing it. "I'm sorry honey." He steps towards you but you flinch away. You're not ready to be touched yet.

"I–I want...I want to be a mom. I want a baby." You wait for your husband's reaction and when it comes you instantly start bawling.

"A baby? What do you mean you want a baby?" Jungkook feels everything inside of him panicking. There's a reason he teaches economics to college students and not high schoolers or below. He doesn't do children, he isn't cut out for it. He'll babysit of his hyung's kids from time to time but at the end of the day, they aren't coming back home with him. Jungkook was sure his wife felt the same way but now? Now she's tearing up in front of him, scared to tell him she wants a child–one that will be his.

Jungkook takes you into his arms, his thumb wipes off some of your tears. "Honey, I'm sorry I didn't know. When you came home from the park I didn't realize that little boy meant so much to you." You try blinking back your tears but they keep running down your face. He's being gentle with you and you appreciate that but his choice of words tells you his answer is no. It's quiet, subtle, and cuts like a knife.

You break away from him to splash cold water on your face. The coolness calms your nerves. “He didn’t. Never–never mind what I said, sorry. I’m tired and I’m probably not thinking straight.” You leave the bathroom, leaving Jungkook scrambling for his thoughts.

A/N: Lmk what you think, tysm for stopping by 💞

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

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earfqwake · 10 months

Note

Not sure if you only write for the Adult trio but if not, do you think you could make a version of big brother illumi x sister reader but instead of illumi it's Killua? Like, in the fic Y/n was originally supposed to be Killua's (But it was Illumi who mated with her instead) So could it stay like that? Again idk if you even write for him so it's fine if you can't do it! Thanks <33

Alpha Killua/Brother X Omega/Sister Reader Part 1

okay so like kind of the same basis as the illumi story just different as in reader actually is mated to killua this time, he is aged up and so is reader okay ? okay 🫰

tw: slight obsession from killua and yes incest !!! don’t read if you don’t want to. brother sister relationship though this part doesn’t contain anything explicit as it’s depicting their relationship growing up. will be multiple parts because i have a lot to say.

Light can’t exist without Dark.

When Kikyo Zoldyck found out she would be having twins she crossed her fingers and prayed to a god she didn’t even believe in that this would be the one, the heir of heiress of the family. Imagine the families surprise when two white haired babies were birthed on July 7th. Even Silva who rarely showed emotions other than stoicism was pleased at this moment in time.

Well Y/n, their new baby girl had half white hair and half (Y/H) colored hair but still this was the first time in the lineage Zoldyck history something like this happened. Though all that mattered is that Killua was born, both a male and with a full head of white hair. Since birth the two were inseparable, only fully calming their cries when they were near eachother.

At dinner they sat next to eachother always and if they didn’t the other would be visibly more upset. They napped together in random spots around the mansion always being found in the most peculiar places. Under Silvas Desk, Inside the kitchens cabinet, Underneath the staircase. And they shared a room by choice, until Silva forced them to have separate rooms at the age of 8. He needed to end their codependency as soon as possible. That didn’t stop them from sneaking into each others beds most nights.

Must have been fate, that such a blessing had occurred. Or so they’ve been told time and time again, but no one could break their bond that’s for sure. The pairs parents decided that they were more than likely going to end up as soul mates, promising strong pups no doubt.

Even though they were too young to have understood, Killua was relieved to hear this. No one would be good enough for his little sister, even tho he was only minutes older than you he never failed to remind you. He didn’t care much for other girls anyways none of them were as special as you.

They were polar opposites, Yin and Yang, but they fit together perfectly. Y/n was the sweetest most sensitive person, even though she was strong she had such a big heart. Too big of a heart for an assassin to have. A heart that Killua vowed to protect, he was his sisters keeper. The latter was more assertive and dominate than his sister, always leading them into trouble and taking the fall should they ever get caught.

“Where are they off to now?” Mumbled Kikyo as she frantically searched the forrest around the mansion for the twins. Only to find them running circles around Mike the enormous guard dog who didn’t seem to mind their company. Kikyo almost fainted when she saw your pretty blue gown now dirty from playing outside with your brother. You were her only girl so she was terribly overprotective of you.

Killua, like always hid you behind him as his mother threw a fit, because god forbid kids try be kids. “It was my fault mother, Y/n didn’t want to leave the garden but I took her out with me.” Which truthfully wasn’t a lie, you tried to warn Killua that Mama wouldn’t be happy but he said he’d leave you behind so you ran after him with teary eyes. But you had fun so a little punishment was worth seeing you smile.

Though he couldn’t always evade you from being punished he always tried. It meant the world to you that he would be willing to protect you no matter what. You wanted to be brave like him and you tried to, but your heart was just too soft. Hiding your tears and frowns didn’t work with Killua, he couldn’t just ignore it like the rest of his family.

When he would sneak into your room routinely sometimes he would catch you sobbing. Either because your punishment was too harsh, or you felt bad for having to kill your target. Your body sore from being attacked during a day of training, tears fell from your eyes as you sensed him enters your room. “I don’t want to do this Killua.. I’m trying to be strong for Mama and Papa but it hurts.” And he’d hold you and soothe you until you slept peacefully. Only then could he shed tears for you.

And he knows he shouldn’t like it, but you always cried the hardest for him and him alone.

“Onii!” She’d cry out and hug him after seeing the cuts and bruises he would have on his body after hours of pain resistance training. He didn’t cry much anymore, but it sure did hurt, though he’d never admit it to you. Hugging her closer, he couldn’t help but give you a tired smile. “I’m fine Y/n, see.” But she only whimpered and stayed in his embrace she knew he was lying. “Such a crybaby..” He sighed as if it troubled him, yet nuzzled his head into her soft hair.

Killua didn’t like seeing his sweet little sister cry, training was hard on her. At age 12 he begged his parents to opt her out of training, if he were to inherit the family business he didn’t want his sister to have to kill and possibly be killed that wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. Silva and Kikyo denied him this request, so he and Y/n ran away together to take the hunter exam.

————————————————————————

It sent us on such a journey, meeting many different people and making friends ! Real friends, we were never allowed to make any friends back on Kukuroo Mountain so imagine their surprise to see a boy their age also taking the exam. Y/n was infatuated with Gon, calling him her friend, staring at him, laughing at his jokes and it made Killua feel a bit jealous. Before Gon he never had to share Y/n’s attention before other than with his younger siblings.

“What’s the matter Onii?” Y/n questioned during the second phase of the hunter exam, they broke off from walking with Gon and the others because Kil grabbed her and rushed off into the fog without saying. He said nothing and just focused on navigating through the fog with a firm hold on her hand. Even if he was upset he wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to you.

“Are you mad at me…? What did I do wrong?” Tears starting to form in her eyes. Chest tightening at the idea of upsetting her brother. Sighing he glances at her before staring ahead again. “It’s stupid… I just don’t want you to replace me with Gon.” Voice barely a whisper he confessed his feelings to you, only you could make him vulnerable.

You hug his arm and smile up at him noticing the slight blush on his serious face. “Don’t worry Killu-nii, he’s our friend, but you’ll always be my best friend okay? It’s always going to be me and you, we came here together and we’re going to leave here together!” How could he be so naive, she’s just so sweet and she always put Kil first. Smiling Killua nodded and when they met up with the group there were no more issues with jealousy. Y/n would never leave her brother.

And eventually they both arrived back to Kukuroo Mountain after parting ways with Gon, both holding Allukas hands. During their trip the pair having learned nen and being capable users were certainly much stronger than when they left.

Ironically Y/n developed a nen ability that made her able to use her tears to heal others, mainly for the sake of Killua who she couldn’t stand seeing injured. His heart was floating when she explained the reason why she developed this secondary ability. And selfishly enough he didn’t just let her heal just anyone with her gift, if he didn’t feel they were worthy of your time or tears they could rot in hell for all he cared. Y/n trusted Killuas judgement though and didn’t question how he assessed who she should or shouldn’t heal.

The twins were great fighters naturally but with the added ability of nen they were a unstoppable duo, just as Silva had predicted. Yet Killua saw the dangers of nen with his own eyes witnessing what it did to Gon.

————————————————————————

Again he came to his Father directly with the same request that fell upon deaf ears last time. This time around however, Silva agreed only if Killua were to become an assassin and continue the family business. A steep price for your safety but he needed to know you would be safe.

It hurt him more than any method of torture to see her sad but deep down a small part of him loved that she cried for him. She was someone who cared and always showed it, making sure to kiss each of his visible cuts. “There all better, right Kil?” She’d smile at him and he went weak for it every single time.

At puberty is when you find out your sub race, whether you’re a alpha, omega, or a beta. Killua obviously was an Alpha. Stubborn and a born leader, if he wanted something he was going to have it. And you? No doubt your an Omega, naturally submissive in nature listening to your parents and following after your brothers every word. Always nurturing and caring for him and your younger siblings. So it went without question when you both presented as your said roles.

The two of you were walking side by side in the forest surrounding the mansion straying very far from your home. “See I told you didn’t I, Y/n.” He said with a toothy grin his canines nice and sharp. I nod and smile sweetly at my brother, “I didn’t doubt you Killu-nii !” He called long before we could confirm what we were.

Recalling all the times he would tease you, “You have to be be an omega! Why else are you such a big baby!” Only eliciting a pout from me and he laughed poking my cheek with his finger. “I think it’s cute, don’t worry when we’re older I promise to take care of you and your moody feelings, I’ll be a good Alpha.” His voice sounded serious like he was trying to convince me and he only laughed again as I hid my smile and blush.

“Wait up, Kil!” I ran briskly after him as I shake myself out of that memory. He was much taller than me now, and stronger. And he grew his hair out into a long messy mullet, looking more and more like Papa as we got older. (He only grew his hair out because he got jealous when you would braid and play with Illumis long hair, but he’ll never admit that. Ever.) You changed too, your curves becoming more prominent especially with the training you did. Your beauty only increased as time passed your mother making sure to always keep you dolled up.

And boy did Killua enjoy it, always telling you how pretty you are and being sure to do small things for you like brush your hair or pick outfits out for you.

Grinning mischievously Killua only goes faster, disappearing into the greenery surrounding you.

I huff and puff as I search everywhere for him in the area we’re in. “Come on Kil! I’m not going to play with you right now.” But he doesn’t budge from his hiding spot probably thinking it’s funny. Fine two can play at this game! I pretend to be upset and sigh turnin around to head back home alone. “Fine I give up. I’m going home now Kil.” I barely get three steps back in the direction we came from when I feel his arms wrap around me from behind.

I jump slightly and weakly attempt to escape his arms feigning as upset but he won’t budge. “Where do you think your going hmm? I was only joking Y/n don’t be such a crybaby about it.” He snickers when I go lax in his arms holding me there for a moment before spinning me around so he can see my pouty face. “Y/nnnn? Don’t be like that, you do this to me all the time.” He drawls out my name as he looks me over.

Leaning closer to him I give him my sad eyes and he squishes my cheeks. “Such a baby.” He mumbles looking at my lips before looking back into my eyes. He drawls forward so our noses are touching gives me a bunch of small pecks on the lips. Furrowing his brows when I don’t reciprocate his affections he mumbles on my lips “ I‘m sorry Y/n.” Sweet moments like this are regular between you especially when you’re far from home like this.

I smile and feel my cheeks heat up under his hold on me. And he knows he has me right where he wants me. My arms extend as I place them over his shoulder loosely. Instantly he accepts this by pulling me in closer, his hand on the small of my back. Placing kisses all over my cheek he still speaks in a low tone, “You forgive me?” I nod my head basking in his affections but still not reciprocating his touches. His voice sounds desperate as he pulls me back far enough to get a good look at me again. “Why aren’t you kissing back then?”

i smile sheepishly and pretend I’m going in to kiss him but flick him on the forehead. Now it’s his turn to pout as I laugh and slip from his grip running through the forrest. Smiling himself he chases after me, “Hey! I knew you were faking it you big baby.” Secretly though he’s relieved that your back to your normal cheerful self, and you’ll be sure to make up for it when he catches you.

Your laughter rings throughout the forest as Kil catches up to you giving you a wolffish grin and pulling you in closely waiting for you to finally give him a kiss. 🦋

————————————————————————

Zeno watched the two leave the mansion, shaking his head before facing his son Silva. “It’s only a matter of time now before they give into their instincts. You shouldn’t let that boy run around with her without supervision or we will be expecting pups sooner than later.” Silva only sighed watching as they disappeared into the forest line, his father was right. Regardless of how stern he was Zeno had a soft spot for the little girl and so did Silva.

Not that it wasn’t anticipated by the family that the two were doting on each other already. But it was too soon for you two to fully mate you had to wait until you were 18. Only then would you know if the two of you were truly meant to be together. He would have to get you on heat suppressants in the mean time and have Killua sent away during ruts. Taking necessary precautions, you two weren’t little kids anymore.

𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓾𝓮𝓭

-𝓴

#killua zoldyck #killua x reader #hxh smut #hxh imagines #killua hunter x hunter #killua x you #hxh killua #alpha!killua #abo dynamics #brother/sister #dark content

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buckyhad · 8 months

Note

ok i see that we can request you something but just imagine a established relationship pierre gasly x leclerc reader where they getting caught by Charles. I can’t imagine his embarrassing face 😭

Sorry for making you wait, but here we go, thanks for sending this!

------------

Charles and Pierre have been friends for most of their life, competing from a really young age and being together lots of times.

The thing Pierre knew, was that you were off limits, Charles loved you like crazy, being his only sister and the younger one, he was pretty much like a bodyguard.

The first boy you liked? Charles made him cry.

Your first boyfriend? He took you and picked you up of every single one of your dates.

So when you meet Pierre, almost triping with your own feet watching the pretty french, you knew Charles would go all crazy if he found out.

But Pierre ignored you, until you were almost 20, when one thing took to the other, and now you two were dating.

------------

2 months on the relationship

You were on your apartment, sleeping on your sofa with your boyfriend, not hearing the keys and the opening door.

"Oh my god?!!" You heard the scream waking up inmediatly.

"Fuck, I swear if you tell Charles I'll kill you Arthur".

"Not if he kills you first".

From that point on, you were pretty much your brother's maid, trying to buy his silence.

------------

6 months on the relationship

"Can you coo-" Arthur said entering the kitchen on your mom's house.

"No, I'm done, not doing anything more for you" you said.

"CHARLES" Arthur screamed.

"I'M GOING TO TELL HIM NOT YOU" you screamed at him.

"Tell me what?" The driver asked raising his brows at his two younger siblings.

"Nothi-" you two started at the same time till Pierre came to the kitchen not knowing Charles got there.

"Now why are you fighting for love" the french said.

"I'm not fighting" Charles said, frowning his brows even more when he thought about the nickname his friend said "You called me love?".

"You're so dumb" Arthur said leaving the kitchen.

"No?" Pierre replied to his friend.

"Then who did y- Oh" he waid "You have three seconds of advantage, run" Your brother said before chasing your boyfriend around the room whose mouth left multiples 'sorry', before tackling him onto the floor "If you hurt her, I'm taking you out of every single race we have together for the rest of your life"

#f1 fanfic #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x y/n

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livwritesstuff · 3 months

Note

I've had a consistent thought in my head of the girls learning more about the upside down.

Like they know a bit: uncle Dustin still lives in Hawkins doing research on something, they've seen their dads and they know about the scars and their disabilities. They know something happened to their entire family and they know there was an earthquake that wasn't really an earthquake. But they've never learned more than that and they'll never know the details as long as Steve and Eddie have a say.

But at some point, each of them realizes that the monster hunter jokes that their dads make aren't really jokes.

In general, I think Steve and Eddie’s sentiment surrounding how they address the not-so-pleasant aspects of their past with their daughters is that they won’t lie (because that’ll only come back to bite them in the ass later), but they’re also only going to tell them as much of the truth as they literally need to.

Not that Moe knows any of this.

All Moe really knows is that her dads went through some scary-ass shit when they were her age and they don’t really talk about it.

Still, Moe has eyes. Maybe she didn’t realize it when she was little, but even just the sheer amount of scar tissue her dads have isn’t exactly normal. When she asks where they got them, though, all they ever say is that a monster tried to eat them.

Moe also knows that the reason Pop doesn’t usually join them on shopping trips at the mall is because they can trigger bad migraines, and she knows the reason he gets migraines in the first place is that he’d taken too many hits to the head in too short a time, but when she asks how he’d gotten a concussion and then a TBI and then two more concussions in the span of four years he always just says something like picked a fight with the wrong Russian spy, or something like that.

And it’s public knowledge that Dad was accused of murder when he was in high school and nearly died before the charges got dropped, but when she asks about what happened, he gives her some spiel about curses and demons and portals to alternate dimensions and monsters (again, with the monsters).

They’re kidding, Moe knows. They’re giving obviously fake answers because…well, for a lot of reasons, she can imagine– not wanting to relive whatever actually happened, not wanting to put their own trauma onto Moe and her sisters.

Honestly, Moe doesn’t really even bother asking about it anymore because they clearly don’t want to talk about it, and if it really was that bad, she can’t even blame them. Besides, she’s pretty sure that dads are supposed to be total mysteries to their kids, so…whatever.

The story of what happened in Hawkins, Indiana starts to gain some public attention again while Moe is in high school – one of those true crime conspiracy theory-type stories people make Reddit threads and YouTube videos about, and apparently (because Moe has no interest, but Robbie likes that kind of stuff) Dad almost always comes up in them, Pop sometimes.

Around that time is when Moe’s dads start to get all kinds of media requests – not that Pop had any idea. He’s basically chronically offline, so no one is really able to track him down other than finding his work email on Psychology Today, but he’s got filters set up to send that shit to spam so he doesn’t even have to see it. Dad, on the other hand, is (supposedly) well-known for his books or whatever, so he doesn’t have the same kind of anonymity. He got all sorts of calls and emails from people wanting his first-hand account, but he always refused to participate, told them to lose his number and never contact him or his family ever again.

That’s the kind of thing that really rattled Pop – Moe didn’t like that. He’s kind of an immovable object in that way, so seeing him rattled just seemed wrong.

They’d even needed to threaten legal action against one online tabloid who just wouldn’t leave them alone – not that Moe is supposed to know about that, but she’d eavesdropped on a phone call between her dads and Uncle Dustin, who seems to exist as a central point in it all even if Moe doesn’t know why (maybe it has something to do with how her dads always complaining about how he still works for that lab, whatever that means).

“Are you ever gonna tell us what really happened?” Moe asks one day, when it’s just her and Pop in the car on their way home from a basketball tournament in Connecticut.

He sighed, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Hon, can I ask you to stop and consider that maybe we have been?”

And for her dad’s sake, she does, she makes herself run through the mental log of all the lore or whatever she’s unlocked over the years.

Monsters, Russian spies, superpowers, demon-animals, curses, portals to alternate realities, government corruption, evil scientists.

Bullshit, she’d always thought, but…her dad had never bullshitted her before. Why would he choose to start with this?

Moe looked back at him, some kind of question on the tip of her tongue even though she had no idea what to ask, and this time, Pop spared a glance back.

“I’m not telling you everything,” he warned her as he looked back at the highway stretching out endlessly ahead of them, and Moe tried to keep any signs of disappointment off her face, “But I’ll tell you some.”

#ooh Moe-POV how do we feel about this #steve isn’t rattled he’s gearing up to defend eddie to the grave again #moe just can’t tell the difference #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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virgincels · 6 months

Text

CAROL OF THE BALLS !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader x dante (dmc)

tags. i made them brothers, cucking, threesome, age gap, size kink, ass play, leon eats his cum so incest, cum eating, creampie, p in v

note. SORRY FOR BEING LATE AGAIN i have been tweaking :3 but um whatever! ignore typos or i’ll detonate :3 feedback n rbs much appreciated !!! ooc bc dante is literally a well-meaning old man but i have to make him sleazy for porn without plot purposes sorry!! i also cut the smut short bc. bc i wanted to get this out so sorry if it’s jolty 😭

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

Your love for Leon, much to his dismay, is no match for your pursuit of cock. His poor girl, you suffer from this awful disease at such a young age, the kind that tears a family apart - wandering hands they call it. In Leon’s terms, it would be something more akin to cock-driven. That’s your motivation, and if you see one you like, you’re gonna get it. Fuck, you’d do rocket science on the spot for a nice, fat cock. Unfortunately, it just so happens to be his older brother that you’ve set your eye on. And Leon’s older brother is the most shameless asshole since, like, god, Mark Antony? That guy was obnoxious, right? Fucking his best friend’s wife and all.

Dante is that obnoxious but amplified tenfold, if you can even imagine that. He’s got a big mouth to match his stature, and, you guessed it, he’s got one hell of a dick stuffed into those tacky leather pants. And you’re taking a very obvious gander at what sort of goodies he’s got tucked away. You’re playing footsie with him under the table for fuck’s sake. Leon can tell by the way you’re slouched too far back in your seat, but it’s mainly ‘cause he dropped his fork and when he lifted the table cloth, he found your foot rubbing along Dante’s inner thigh while his fingers toyed with the frilly cuff of your sock. Bringing you home for Christmas was a mistake. You’re too precious to give up and too hard to reign in. He should just store you away in a jar of some sort, poke a few holes in the lid so you can breathe, a bird cage perhaps, or maybe a crate?

Knowing you, you’d manage to get your paws on Dante either way. A cage would be no problem, just slip it right on in through the gaps! A makeshift gloryhole if you will. Honestly, he’d prefer you to pick Vergil over Dante, at least the guy has it all together, at least he’s not a washed up loser who can’t pay his bills, at least he’s not Dante. You’d think as the younger sibling you’d turn out better, right? It’s like baking a cake, the first time it’s shit, and the second time it’s better. Not soft in the centre, not burnt to a crisp on the sides - just don’t work like that around here. Instead, Leon’s parents had the stronger, taller, hotter, bigger one first, then little Leon to top it all off. Little ‘cause he’s 5’10 with insoles only.

Oh yeah, you can ask around town. Leon Kennedy? That guy’s decent, nice face, nice smile, nice guy. Dante? One that walks around like his dick is weighing him down, fuckin’ pornstar face, can tell if a girl likes him when she’s got her ankles behind her head – yeah, I know him, he broke my parents marriage up, and he fucked my sister, and my auntie, yeah, the one that came over for the holidays. I don’t really mind ‘cause he gave it to me after too! Oh, no way, I couldn’t do that with Leon, he’s more of the settle down type, don’t you think?

No one has actually said that and yes, he is more of the settle down type, but Leon has had his fair share of flings, and contrary to popular belief - missionary is not the only position he knows. He knows how to put a girl on her knees, no stranger to it. Maybe, just maybe, his dick is the problem. It’s not small, not quite big, it’s adequate, or perhaps it’s inadequate and that’s why you’re offering to wash the dishes alongside Dante. Leon hasn’t seen Dante do a household chore since 1976, that’s when Leon was in the womb if you didn’t know. Meaning he hasn’t ever seen Dante do a single chore, not even pick up his own underwear the fucking slob. And don't even get him started on you. The girl who struggles to get the vacuum working when Leon’s not around, then you do it half heartedly for five minutes before complaining about your back aching.

He’s pacing outside the kitchen like a guard on duty, listening in on your conversation with Dante, it’s absolutely thrilling. Leon couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time, he just loves to hear his girlfriend flirt her way into his brother’s pants.

Oh, your hands are so big, Dante! Wow, they’re so much bigger than mine. My goodness, Dante, you could pick me up, like, sooooo easy! I wonder what else is big! Has your hair always been that colour? No, that’s so not true, Dante, doesn’t make you look old at all! It suits you, don’t look a day over twenty. Duh, of course I’m joking, I like ‘em old anyway. Do you babe? You should go ahead and suck his old man cock, sure Dante wouldn’t mind, and it’s not like Leon has any say. You’re young and fickle - this is what he deserves for dating a girl your age. What more do you know than dick?

“It’s okay, he won’t wake up,” Your voice is muffled in his ears, distant despite you being less than an inch away from him. He shifts, feels around for your warmth, clasps an arm that’s way too jacked.

Leon’s brother is remarkable really, he turns over after a struggle with the bedside lamp, sees Dante’s teeth gleaming, your little hands splayed flat across his chest. He’d go at him, make a feast of it, he wishes for the tearing of Dante’s throat to be biblical. God, Kane and Abel have nothing on them. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” His digs his nails into hardened muscle.

“Please, baby,” You beg him, beg is an exaggeration, from you it’s a command. Like, not Oh, please, Leon! May I suck and fuck your brother while you lay beside us? More of a Please, shut your mouth and let me have this, Leon. I haven’t had good dick ever since I started dating you.

He falters, “No, babe,” Leon shakes his head, lip curling upwards in both disgust and wonderment at the boldness of your request. “No, are you crazy?”

“C’mon, Leon,” Dante pouts, and it’s disturbing to see a grown man with no upper lip do that. “She just wants to have a little fun.”

“Don’t— don’t get involved, this is between me and her.” His attempt at assertion is only met with amusement.

“Leon, please?” You bat your lashes. Beat. His heart hammers in his chest. Then Leon closes his eyes like a good boy, he’s always been great at taking orders. Whatever. Fuck his brother to your heart’s content.

“He not treatin’ you right, sweet thing?” Dante murmurs into your neck, his thick fingers parting your slippery folds, rubbing deft circles on your twitching clit.

He grits his teeth so hard they squeak. Leon treats you perfectly well. Surely, saying otherwise—

“No, Dante,” You pout up at his brother, a small hand curled around his wrist as he pushes his fingers knuckle-deep into your slick cunt.

Stupid bitch. Leon has never been inclined to call a woman a bitch, total lie, but Claire told him it’s not appropriate, and Claire is usually right about most things. Not right now though, girls are fucking brutal.

“No?” Dante coos, “My little brother can’t please his girl? Can’t get this little cunt soaked?” There’s a wet smack, and you gasp.

“Don’t do that.” Leon can’t help himself, it’s like he insists on making a fool of himself. “She doesn’t like that.”

“Do it again.” You plead, “Dante, please, feels so good.” The crooked smile Dante gives him is humiliation at its finest.

He draws his hand back, spanks your cunt, the fleshy part of his palm mashing against your clit. “You don’t even know what your girl likes.”

“I do.” Leon’s chest aches, his dick aches even more, feels like it’s about to over-inflate and pop.

“Bet you like it rough, don’t you, babe?” Dante asks, presses his nose into your neck, licks a stripe up your jugular.

“She does not.”

“Yes.” You nod crazy like a dashboard bobblehead.

Dante raises his brows when he glances sideways at Leon, “He’s not givin’ it to you is he? You want him all up in your guts, baby, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, god, please,” You whine, clit thrumming beneath Dante’s fingertips. “Want it here.” You bring Dante’s hand to rest on your abdomen, “wanna feel you here, please.”

“Dirty little bitch,” Dante coaxes an orgasm out of you with his fingers alone.

“Don’t speak to her like that.”

“I’ll speak to her how I want,” He retorts, “She likes it, ‘s why you’re gettin’ me all wet, isn’t it, baby?”

“Mhm,” Your eyes follow his every move, and Leon has never seen you so enthralled during sex. He’s used to you laying on your back like a dead girl, legs over his shoulders, letting out the occasional grunt of discomfort.

His head dips low, the sheets are long forgotten, crumpled at the foot of the bed. Dante’s big hands spread your cheeks apart, licks into your cunt, flicks his tongue over your clit— and you moan like you never have before. Back bowing off the bed, covering your mouth with a balled-up fist, chest heaving.

“That good, baby?” Dante hums, his teeth scrape over your clit when he pulls back the hood, and you squirm.

“So good, so good— ‘s so fuckin’ good, god!”

Alright, can’t be that good, now you’re just putting it on to piss Leon off. You’ve never sucked his dick well enough for him to moaning like that. Then again, his dick doesn’t have a million nerve endings. The sounds Dante is making are downright lewd, unnecessary even, you’re dripping all over his face, his chin wet and shiny with your pussy— then he makes the jump. A move that’s bold even for a dude as outrageous as Dante, his pink tongue follows the natural trail from pussy to asshole. Licks the puckered rim till you relax, and there’s no resistance from you whatsoever. You’re just letting this grimy bastard eat your fucking ass? Even Leon hasn’t gotten that far, not that he’s asked, not that he’s ever thought about it - something about the second hole just feels wrong.

Dante spits on it, manages to get his thumb in nicely, then he sits up, leaves you empty. “Just a little girl takin’ big things, aren’t you? How am I s’posed to fit in this tight cunt without breaking it?” He tilts his head to the side, eyes droopy like he’s drunk on pussy juice alone. Probably is. Shit is potent. Especially when you’ve been nose-deep.

His brother only smiles, gives a pointed look to Leon’s dick straining against the fabric of his boxers, the sticky wet patch. “That’s why she wants cock so bad, huh?” Leon is not small. His dick is just right, it’s fine, it’s sufficient. There’s nothing wrong with it, but he cups a hand over his bulge to hide it from Dante.

Dante shucks off his pants, and yeah, Leon really is the little brother in every sense. He might as well just kill himself at this point, there is no winning against a dick that fat. Shit’s so big it’s hanging downwards, so heavy it can’t even hold itself up. Some big fucking balls to level it out. Jesus, is he seriously admiring his brother’s dick right now? Listen, it’s just got some real weight to it, and Leon has to say he’s impressed. Only seen this breed of horsecock in porn.

“Gosh, Dante,” You’re lovestruck, cockstruck, a trembling hand reaches forward to cup his heavy balls, then wrap it around the base, and it’s honestly so big your thumb and middle finger struggle to meet.

“Don’t throw her around like that, oh my god.” Leon frowns, catches your head from knocking against the headboard when Dante manhandles you onto your front. “Just be careful.” If you told Leon he’d be watching his brother fuck his little girlfriend from behind with a thumb in her ass, he’d say, yeah, sounds about right. Some shit that would happen to a guy like me.

“She can take it.” Dante says, then he’s sheathed inside with a single glide of his cock, no resistance whatsoever. You’re that wet. Dripping down your thighs. God, he’s never seen you get so worked up. “Can’t you, babe?”

“Yes, please, just give it to me please, Dante,” Now that’s begging, not that shit you were doing earlier. “Wan’ it so bad, please, might die, Dante.”

“Alright, okay, baby, only ‘cause you asked so nicely.” He snickers, wraps his arm around your front and then fucks into you so hard the bed rocks. Headboard hits the wall. Stuff you see in movies. God, his poor girl, you’ll be ruined once Dante’s done with you.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Dante,” You mewl an endless string of expletives, arch so your hips push back onto his fat cock, and your eyes roll back into your head, and there’s spit trickling down your chin— Holy fucking shit. It’s like watching a porno play out. Hell, it might very well be a porno. C’mon, where’s the camera, is this Dante’s new side gig? Is this keeping his lights on, his fridge full, his water running? Wouldn’t put it past him.

Once he creams your hole, Dante’s quick to spread you apart with his big hands, you’re still gaping. “Go on, Leon.” He says very simply, smiles the way he always does when he suggests something outlandish. “Clean her up.”

Leon’s never eaten pussy from the back, it’s impolite. Crude. That’s the general consensus, right? And Leon’s a feminist, he’ll eat a pussy that sits itself on his face, he’ll snuggle up between a thick pair of thighs - but from the back, oh, it’s just obscene. Still does it though. Eats his brother's thick cum from your hole, sucks on your swollen clit, laps till there’s nothing left that’s dirtier than his own tongue. Then he goes to bed with a hard dick and the taste of his brother’s cum in the back of his throat. He’ll sleep it off.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil leon #dante sparda smut #dante sparda x reader #dmc dante smut #dmc dante x reader

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linniewrites · 1 year

Text

9:15 ; “you should meet her.”

Meliodas x f!goddess!reader

wc: 413

“So you’re the oldest out of how many kids ? “You were imitating the way Meliodas was always laying on the ground with your arms crossed under your head. When he first took notice of the way you were relaxing, he pretended not to care, but now it made him smile.

"There’s two of us, but I don’t think we can call ourselves kids.”

“Well, for other races we’re really old, but hey, we’re still pretty young.” You nudged him with your shoulder, smile teasing him. However, he hit you back with his own shoulder and a smile mimicking your own, stopping your movements.

“I’m older than you though ?”

Your laughter stopped after he finished his sentence. “What ?!”

“Yeah, I was born around the same time as the second fairy king.” He showed the number two with his index and middle finger, unknowingly forming a peace sign.

“You’re the same age as Dahlia ?” Your head lowered, and you thought about it for a moment, not realizing you were talking out loud. “That means you’re the same age as Ellie…”

“What’re you mumbling for ?”

“Nothing, I just thought you and me would be closer in age, but you’re closer to my sister’s age.”

“Really ? Elizabeth is her full name, no ?”

“Yeah, Ellie… she’s really nice you know, you’d be good friends.”

“I heard you were the nicest out of the both of you, so maybe she would hate me ?”

“You heard I was nice ?” You slapped his chest and hit your bottom lip to hide your smile.

“I heard you killed people in one hit that way they didn’t suffer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You shook your head before defending yourself. “Well sometimes I don’t have a choice. I can’t just let people come at me and let them kill me.” He nodded at you, agreeing. “But… I’m serious. You could meet Ellie someday. It’d be so fun, hanging out, the three of us, and you could invite your brother !”

“Should I ?”

“Yeah ! Imagine this…” You started showing at the grassy ground in front of you. “We’d have fruits and plenty of different veggies as well. And you guys can bring stuff they cook in the demon realm.”

“I’ll tell Zeldris to get everything ready then.”

You smiled at what you assumed to be his brother’s name, and fell back onto the ground happily, and imagining your day with the people you loved the most.

#meliodas #meliodas x reader #nnt meliodas #seven deadly sins x reader #nanatsu no taizai x reader #meliodas smut #nnt #sds meliodas #sds anime

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storiesbyjes2g · 13 days

Text

👀

What is this about you say? Stay tuned!

Thanks to @trumpets0ng and @ladybugsimblr for letting me use your sims' credentials lol. Walker Pearson from Jett Studios (trumpet) was the photographer, and Alex Greene (LB) was the author. He also wrote Bailey Kay's article.

(transcript under the cut)

A well-dressed man walked into the studio, swaggy and confident, with more drip than a coffee pot. His perfectly tailored suit glimmered under the stage lights, looking just as expensive as one would imagine it to be. My initial thought upon seeing this cat with a larger than life personality was, “Oh, great. Here comes another industry brat.” Then, he walked up to my assistant, smiled, extended his hand, and said, “Hi! I’m Orange.” That’s when I knew I’d been completely wrong about him.

I started off slow.

ALEX: How’ve you been? How’s life treating you?

ORANGE: Life is wonderful, thanks for asking.

I’m excited about my baby sister being back on the west coast! She wanted to spread her wings and moved east; that’s where she met and married her guy. But she’s a mom now, and my parents are getting old, so she’s back. I can’t wait to spend time with my nephew and get to know my brother-in-law better.

ALEX: Wow, okay. It’s always nice to have the family close. So where have you been all this time, my man?

He leaned back into the sofa with a huge sigh and a smile.

ORANGE: Where have I been… I’ve been everywhere, man!

ALEX: Oh word?

ORANGE: Yeah, man. I pride myself on not being a prideful person…which is probably the most proud thing I could say.

He laughs at his own joke, wiping fake sweat away from his brow. And all at once, he had me. I was sucked into his energy.

ORANGE: I appreciate everything my parents did for me, but I was never interested in following in their footsteps.

ALEX: Never?

ORANGE: Not really. I was kinda artsy as a kid. I can sing, but I never had a passion for it. Don’t get me wrong…I’m a gregarious kind of guy, so I wanted to be in the public. Just not doing what my parents did.

ALEX: So what did you do?

ORANGE: Whatever I could. I didn’t want it said of me that my life was handed to me, so I moved out, got a crappy apartment, and worked as a barista for a while. People told me I was funny, so I started writing sketches and going to the comedy clubs.

ALEX: And then sim.TV called.

Laughter erupts, startling everyone on set. It’s loud and hearty and sounds like that uncle at the family barbeque.

ORANGE: It didn’t exactly happen that way, but yes…eventually. I honestly don’t know what happened. I’m guessing someone just happened to be at one of my shows and thought I would be a good fit for this new talk show they were planning.

ALEX: What does this mean for you?

ORANGE: Wow… This means… It’s so validating. I’m middle-aged now, and all my peers are off doing so many amazing things. It was really hard to resist the urge to go to my parents and ask for help. But the thing that kept me going was this moment right here. I knew that if I stayed the course, eventually something would happen, and I would have an immense feeling of pride. And I do.

ALEX: That’s so dope. So, tell us about the show.

ORANGE: It’s called “The Pulse,” and it’s all about keeping you entertained and informed about what’s going on in the entertainment world.

ALEX: So you’re keeping your finger on the pulse of the industry.

ORANGE: You get it. I’m so grateful for the opportunity because it’s so perfect for me. I grew up around it. I know all dirty secrets, but I also recognize and respect the beauty in it.

ALEX: So from your interviews, should we expect to get a different perspective of celebrity life?

ORANGE: I hope so. I don’t want to be just another talk show host, asking the same tired questions. One thing I want to do differently is get the audience involved. Everyone watching has their own reasons for being interested in someone, so if there’s something they want to know, I’d like to give them the answers.

ALEX: Okay! I like that. Kinda like, power to the people.

ORANGE: Exactly.

ALEX: So, why Nick?

ORANGE: Why not Nick? He’s the hottest thing smoking right now, and he’s not even working. I’m trying to get on his level! But seriously though, I think we’d vibe well. We’re similar in our values and ways of working, and I don’t think he’s ever done a TV interview before, so I think it’s fitting that he be my first guest.

ALEX: Best of luck to you, man. Thanks for sitting down with us.

#ts4 story #sims 4 story #sims story #Piersons and Friends #the piersons #orange bailey moon #nick wilkinson #the pulse

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iloveavatar · 1 year

Text

water and oil

enemies to lovers(?) request from @sodapop182 hopefully i did ok LMAOOOO

if you were to ask anyone how neteyam and y/n got together… they couldn’t tell you. because they honestly have no clue either.

the two na’vi growing up, we’re like water and oil. the two never got along when they were younger. then to add to the “rivalry” they had siblings. thus, making them both the eldest of their families.

both of them were extremely protective of their younger siblings.

neteyam had to responsibly of the oldest to watch lo’ak and kiri, plus tuk ... sometimes even spider and it was a lot for one kid.

y/n had to watch her younger brother kri’olo who instantly became best friends with lo’ak. then came her sister lowal, who usually stuck by herself she’s she’s more quiet and reserved.

y/n didn’t have as many siblings as neteyam, however the stress of watching younger kids is still there.

one day as she was around the age of 13, she was watching her brother run around with lo’ak. a small smile of her face as she heard her brothers genuine laugh.

she kept the small smile on her face until she her him.

“i see that you’re starting to make stalking a new habit of yours?” neteyam questioned teasingly

she rolled her eyes as the smile dropped from her face.

“no i’m not stalking. if anything you’re the one that’s stalking since you’ve clearly been watching me. why are you even here” she angrily said

“i’m here to watch over my brother and make sure yours doesn’t do something to him.” he stated as if it was obvious.

she furrowed her “brows” and whipped her head over to his. “why would my brother start something? if anyone was to start an issue it would be your brother.. since you know, creating issues runs in your family. i mean you do it so well!” she sarcastic declared

he rolled his eyes so far back y/n was pretty sure he could see what little brain he had in his head.

“oh whatever” he scoffed

“you know, since you’re annoying me i would much rather go and be with lo’ak instead of you” he declared while starting to stand up

she made her way over to the two boys who were playing tag.

neteyam watched as she joined in on the game. he saw how carefree she looked in that moment. how she was able to have fun while watching her sibling and not constantly worry.

he envied her.

he wants to join in on the fun, but knowing his luck someone would get injured and he would get a lecture from his father.

so instead he chose to sit back and watch how she was able to live life with the ability to have fun. neteyam always had this weight in his shoulders.

he always felt like he had to become the perfect son for his family and the clan. he was the eldest of toruk makto. he had to be perfect. he can’t be fooling around like children.

yet he still longed to be able to.

he wanted to make y/n smile like how lo’ak was able to.

imagine the two of them getting along and just running through pandora, with not a care in the world as smiles adorned their faces. one could only hope.

two years passed to where they were both 15 years old. the two were pretty much the same. still arguing about absolutely nothing yet everything at the same time.

whenever the two started to argue, the people of the clan just turned the other way and walked off since they’re used to the fighting.

it was just the two of them now and they were still involved in a heavy argument. as the years passed their petty arguments started to grow more and more heated to the point where they’re both in each others faces with scowls.

the topic of the argument was currently on behavior. neteyam passed a comment about how y/n never took anything seriously and y/n passed a comment about how neteyam only took things seriously.

“i just don’t understand why you can’t just focus and not be so lighthearted about everything!what if we were in a battle huh? oh who am i kidding,you probably wouldn’t even take that seriously!” neteyam yelled

“well maybe because i don’t have a stick shoved up my ass neteyam! it’s not that hard! not everything in life is so serious!” y/n snapped

“oh really? you try being the next head of the clan! that’s serious y/n! important to the clan even! i wouldn’t expect you to know anything about being important to the clan anyway.” he stated with a scowl on his face

y/n’s eyes widened as she took in his words. she stopped flailing her arms in anger and let them drop down towards her side. her ears started to lower. the major sign that neteyam knew he screwed up.

“you know what? you’re right. i’m not important to clan like how you are neteyam. i probably never will be in all honesty. but to take your anger out on me is exhausting. i’ve had it! you make me exhausted neteyam. i’m done.” she stated while sighing. you could see the pain in her eyes from his comment, however she didn’t dare cry infront of him. she wouldn’t give him another thing to throw back into her face.

she turned around and started to walk away until she felt a hand on her wrist.

“w-wait i didn’t mean what i said. i really didnt. you mean a lot to the clan and i’m sorry for everything i’ve just said to you. you don’t deserve it all” he said while avoiding eye contact

she didn’t say anything. she also avoided eye contact with him.

the tension between the two was suffocating

“i guess i’ve just been always jealous of you and now it’s finally made it’s way to the surface” he said while looking up trying to make eye contact with her.

she snapped her head up so fast it will probably be sore tomorrow.

“you. jealous of me? HAH what.” she asked astonished.

“i guess watching you grow up and be able to mess around with your siblings, even my siblings and now have to worry about being perfect made me jealous. i feel like i’ve had this expectation that i need to live up to since my father is toruk makto. the pressure of being perfect for the clan. i was always jealous of you. you were able to have fun and run around, enjoying the little things without a care in the world.” he admitted in a small voice

his hand moved lower to grasp her hand.

“oh neteyam… you could’ve just said something. we would’ve loved having you in our games when we were younger. even now! you shouldn’t feel pressured to live up to your father. your father is his own person. you are your own person. you are not him. you will never be him because you are neteyam. in order to deal with the hardships of life and the pressure of the clan, you need to take breaks too. go enjoy the wonderful things that could be shadowed by the stress you carry” she softly spoke while grasping his hand and slightly squeezing. “everything has a balance. right now you need to have a little fun in order to take care of the bad…” she trailed off

“what are thinking?” he questioned suspiciously

“i know just how to get your mind off the stress!” she exclaimed excitedly with a giant smile

“come. follow me and call for your ikran. we’re going flying.” she stated while dragging him a certain way.

the two spent the night flying together while doing all kinds of flips and turns. neteyam was smiling and not a single thought about the clan came to mind. he was having genuine fun with y/n

who knew.

after all the years of arguing and the two finally worked things out.

the two of them spent the entire night laughing and joking around as if they’ve never argued in the first place.

a year later the clan heard that they were dating and were absolutely taken back. it took the clan a solid week to finally accept that the two stopped bickering.

it was almost entertaining to the clan and now that they’ve stopped with the arguments the entertainment has disappeared. however the nosy na’vi have now made it their mission to get the two together whenever they have the chance.

if neteyam was going to be the next head of the clan… he would need a mate to rule the people beside him.

the clan was more than happy to accept y/n. in fact they were waiting for the day neteyam announced they were mates.

however until then, the two stuck to their nighttime flying where they both got to relax.

they both finally realized that in order to have balance in their lives they needed the other to help them, instead of going against each other.

who would’ve thought.

————————-

*IMPORTANT*

i feel like this is super rushed and i DEEPLY apologize. i have another piece of writing for neteyam that i actually have FINISHED! that’s what took me so damn long in the first place however i’m gonna wait to post that a couple days after this bc all of you are so supportive and i honestly did not think my writing would get recognized until i saw all my notifications!! so thank you sm to each and every single one of you! 🫶once again send me more messages so i can figure out what i’m writing more about!

#neteyam x reader #avatar #the way of water #neteyam #avatar x reader #iloveavatar

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prythianpages · 8 months

Text

ACOSM | The Night of their first solstice in Velaris

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: fluff

summary: Val, Cass, Az, Rhys and Mor spend their first solstice together at the house of wind. Az finds himself falling for Val.

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection of imagines that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. this takes place a couple of years after she meets Az. I skipped a couple of imagines because I really wanted to write Az crushing on Val already lol. I imagine them to be around the ages of 16-18.

The moon cast a gentle glow upon the longest night of the year, the Winter Solstice. It was a night of celebration, where everyone would gather for laughter and the exchanging of gifts. Valeria was buzzing with excitement, especially since this year they would be celebrating in the comforts of the House of the Wind, allowing Mor to join them.

Valeria could count the amount of times she’s seen Mor in the past couple of years on one hand. When Cassian and Azriel joined their family, the celebration of solstice had become a delicate matter. Despite Lady Yvaine welcoming the two boys and treating them as her own, the High Lord of the Night Court did not share the same sentiment. It resulted in Valeria and Rhysand splitting their time within their family. They’d spend solstice with their parents but the morning after with Cassian and Azriel until eventually, Rhysand and Valeria were allowed to stay behind in Windhaven while their mother joined their father at the Moonstone palace.

This year would be the first time Cassian and Azriel were allowed to join them at the House of the Wind for the festivities. Valeria and Mor had spent the entire morning decorating the house and making sure everything was set neatly. The house, also excited for the guests to come, prepared the most elaborate of dinners for all five to share, even providing them with the finest wines.

"It's time!" Cassian exclaimed with excitement, eagerly awaiting the exchanging of gifts.

"As if you didn’t already take a peek," Azriel retorted, eliciting groans from the group, all directed at Cassian.

"I told you we should’ve glamored the gifts!" Valeria playfully chided.

Valeria was the first to present her gift, a beautifully wrapped package adorned with silver ribbons and a sprig of night-blooming flowers. She handed it to Rhysand with a smile.

Rhysand unwrapped the gift carefully, revealing a handcrafted leather journal. Valeria knew that her brother loved to jot down his thoughts and experiences, often reflecting on his training, missions, and aspirations. She had found a skilled leather artisan who crafted a beautiful, rugged journal with a sturdy cover. She added a personal touch by engraving a symbol on the front cover—a combination of Illyrian wings and a star, representing Rhysand's heritage and his connection to the Night Court. Inside, she wrote an encouraging note, expressing her gratitude for him and all the adventures they had shared.

He looked at Valeria with awe and gratitude. "It's beautiful, Val. Thank you."

Cassian, who sat beside Azriel, on the couch across from Rhysand and Valeria leaned in to whisper to the Shadowsinger. “I can’t wait to read his diary.”

Rhysand sent him a vulgar gesture.

Mor was next, presenting matching knitted sweaters for all of them. Valeria couldn't help but smile at Mor's enthusiasm as she clasped her hands together and encouraged all of them to put the sweaters on.

Valeria was the last to receive a gift, eyeing the box with caution as the guys watched her intently. It was hideously wrapped, and she couldn’t help but laugh as she took it into her hands.

“All three of us chipped in for this one,” Rhysand told her with a gentle smile.

"Used all of our monthly allowances on it," Cassian added with a casual shrug.

“I thought we agreed on a price limit.” Valeria replied but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips in anticipation for what was inside the box.

Valeria’s eyes widened as she opened the box to find a delicately crafted dagger. She carefully unsheathed the dagger, admiring the play of moonlight on the blade. The blade had a graceful curve, and the hilt was wrapped in smooth midnight blue leather. She stared down at the dagger in awe and wonder, delicately running her fingers over the moonstones that adorned the hilt. The dagger was a work of art, a beautiful blend of elegance and lethality. She now understood why it cost all of them their monthly allowance.

“This is…it’s stunning,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion as she looked at her brother, Cassian, and Azriel. “Thank you.”

Cassian grinned at her while Azriel gave a bow of his head, as if to say “you’re welcome.”

Rhysand smiled, the moonlight dancing in his eyes. "You deserve the best, Val. Take it as a token of our love and belief in your strength."

“I can teach you how to use it,” Rhysand then offered. “Perhaps, even teach you a couple of fighting tricks.”

"I can't wait,” Valeria responded, suppressing a smile as Cassian let out a cough. She exchanged a knowing look with him, her eyes urging him to be quiet.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed at their suspicious behavior. They were hiding something. His shadows swirled around him in excitement as they sensed their master’s curiosity pique. Let us find out, they almost screamed at him.

Valeria carefully re-sheathed the dagger, holding it close to her heart.

As the evening continued, they exchanged stories, laughter, and cherished moments. The House of Wind echoed with the joy of Solstice, filling it with warmth and a sense of comfort.

Valeria laughed as Mor fell onto the armchair after an exhausting demonstration of a new dance she had learned, heavily influenced by all the wine she had drank earlier. She wished her friend, Mallory, and Cassian's girlfriend, Tanwyn, had been able to join them tonight as well. She knew Mor and Mallory would get along well and despite Cassian's cheerful attitude, she knew a part of him was yearning to have his girlfriend celebrate with them. Unfortunately, Mallory’s father did not allow her to leave Windhaven and Tanwyn had valkyrie duties to attend to.

Valeria leaned back into the couch, her arm brushing one of Azriel’s wings, as she watched Cassian and Rhysand engage in an arm wrestle. Mor, still tired from her earlier dance, egged the two on from her spot on the armchair. “Who do you think is going to win? My money is on Cas,” Valeria turned to Azriel.

Azriel’s head turned to meet her gaze and his eyes seemed to light up. She shifted her gaze to his hands, where he held worry dolls. It was one of the gifts she had given him this year, along with the earring set he proudly wore. They were small sterling silver hoops, but one of them had a small crescent moon dangling from it. They had replaced the cheap silver metal he had bought shortly after Valeria had convinced them all to let her pierce their ears. Rhysand had been hesitant, and Cassian had been a baby about it, but Azriel was the first to volunteer. His earrings matched hers but she wouldn’t dare point that out.

“They’re worry dolls, Az,” Valeria explained, realizing why he had been confused when he first opened his gift. Her fingertips brushed his hand as she picked up one of the tiny dolls, unfazed by one of Azriel’s shadows following her move. Traitor, Azriel thought as the shadow carrassed Valeria’s arm.

“You tell them your worries, place them under your pillow, and they take them away, allowing you to sleep in peace.”

Sleep? His shadows laughed. Master doesn’t sleep.

“I’ve noticed you seem tired and stressed. More so than usual,” Valeria added, her voice was filled with concern.

Azriel’s eyes met hers again, and he offered a small, appreciative smile. "It's just... things have been a bit overwhelming lately," he admitted, struggling to find the right words because he was in fact more tired and stressed than usual. He didn’t think anyone had noticed. But she did.

And he was not ready to admit that it was because he could not stop thinking about her. Whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was her face. Her eyes shining with laughter, mischief and a warmth that set his heart ablaze. Her eyes that were the most beautiful shade of violet and imprinted themselves in his mind. Or her smile. Her smile that could brighten even the darkest corners of his soul. It was infectious, genuine and had a way of igniting a flicker of hope within him. How could something as simple as a smile hold so much power over his heart?

His nights consisted of him tossing and turning in bed, trying to banish these thoughts in fear that Rhysand would hear and discover that unlike Cassian, Azriel never saw Valeria as a sister. He had spent years mastering the art of control yet Valeria threatened to dismantle his defenses. With every stolen glance or accidental touch, there was an ache in his chest. An ache that was both sweet and agonizing.

Azriel took the doll from her hand. Any excuse to brush his fingers against hers again. "Thanks, Val."

Coward, his shadows whispered in a taunting manner.

Valeria blushed, feeling a rush of happiness at his gratitude and something else at the shift in his gaze. "I hope they help."

Later that night, as Azriel placed the worry dolls under his pillow, he couldn't help but sigh at the irony of his situation. When he closed his eyes, he imagined Valeria. He imagined that maybe, just maybe, Valeria felt the same way. With a hopeful smile on his face, sleep finally took over.

Amidst the wintry wonderland of the Night Court, the freshly fallen snow lay pristine and untouched. The group, consisting of Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Valeria, and Mor, stood bundled up in their coats and scarves, excitement bubbling in the crisp air. Solstice had just passed, and they were eager to continue their new tradition of a yearly snowball fight.

Mor, nursing a hangover from the previous night's festivities, opted to sit this one out, taking a spot on the porch to watch the snowball fight unfold. Meanwhile, Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and Valeria were ready to engage in a fierce battle.

Rhysand grinned mischievously, scooping up a handful of snow and molding it into a perfect sphere. "Prepare yourselves, my friends," he declared. Mischief danced in his eyes.

Cassian chuckled, gathering snow in his own hands. "Oh, we're ready."

Azriel, always the quiet strategist, watched with a calculating gaze as he formed his own snowball.

“Remember the rules! No magic and no flying.” Valeria reminded, making a point to look only at her brother as he had cheated the year before.

Rhysand stuck his tongue out at her and Valeria giggled, a contagious enthusiasm radiating from her. “I’m on your team, brother!”

Azriel chuckled, adding: “In that case, I’m with Cas.”

And so, the snowy battlefield was set.

They dispersed into their respective teams, each vying for victory in this lighthearted battle. Snowballs flew through the air, laughter echoing as they dodged and retaliated. Cassian expertly used his strength to create cover in the form of a snow wall while Azriel displayed remarkable accuracy and precision.

Valeria, standing beside her brother, found herself being used as a shield by Rhysand as he ran to take cover behind the trees. “Sorry, sis!”

A playful grin etched onto Cassian’s face. He gladly took advantage of the moment, throwing multiple snowballs their way. Each one hit Valeria all over her body, and she screamed as she toppled over in her failed attempt to run away from Cassian’s hits. Snow smothered her face.

"Gotcha!" Cassian shouted triumphantly.

He had shown her no mercy so she flicked him off as she joined Mor on the porch with her hair still full of snow.

As the battle continued, Azriel's team gained the upper hand, nailing Rhysand’s leg with a well-aimed snowball from Cassian. Now, it was only Cassian and Azriel left as Rhysand lay dramatically on the ground. The two smirked at each other wickedly.

“Sorry things had to end this way,” Cassian said smugly, forming another sphere of snow as he stood behind a tree.

“Don’t count your blessings too soon, Cas,” Azriel warned and in a dramatic final move, he orchestrated a coordinated attack that left Rhysand and Cassian buried under an avalanche of snow.

“Fuck,” Rhysand chuckled as he struggled to get up.

"Revenge for hurting Val," Az quipped as he turned, his hazel eyes searching for Valeria. He sent her a wink, and the blood rushed to her cheeks.

She blamed it on the cold.

A/N: I'm debating on writing a short scene of the night Val pierced the guy's ears lol. Any guesses as to what Cass and Val are hiding?

Tag list: @justrepostandlove @kemillyfreitas

#azriel x oc #azriel x reader #rhysand's sister #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand imagine #cassian imagine #acosm

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 5 months

Text

Enclosed

When he's far away at sea, Tom finds himself infinitely grateful that you found work at a photography studio.

Author's Note: This fic, two days late? Noooooo.... Also! I've inadvertently made all the Tommy B smuff fics connected, so this can either be read alone or as a sequel to "After the War"

Pairing: Tom Bennett x Reader (2nd person)

Warnings: masturbation (m), lingerie, references to oral sex (f receiving) and p in v sex

This work is a part of my 12 Days of Smuff event! Read the rest here.

My Masterlist

Enclosed

Prompt: Letters & Lingerie

Tom lay in his bunk with a cocky smile on his lips. He cast his eyes around the rest of the room, finding only one or two other sailors, both asleep and far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to hear him.

This ritual was well worth skipping his mid-day meal.

He weighed the envelopes in his hands for a moment. It felt heavier than it usually did – that boded well for him. After taking a moment to inhale the perfume you had lovingly sprayed on the envelope, Tom dug into your letter.

Tom, my strapping husband,

You said in your last letter that your life in His Majesty’s Nave was ‘fucking boring.’ Shall I tell you how exciting my life back home is?

My uncle has changed the studio’s opening to eleven in the morning so he can get some sleep after staying up all night as an air raid warden. Which means I must find a way to fill that time, assuming I am not also sleeping as I often do after spending a night crammed into a shelter with every screaming and crying child in the whole goddamn neighborhood.

But when I am not sleeping, I often find myself doing the chores that Mum no longer has the energy to do. I swear, if I didn’t do the shopping and cooking, we’d all be eating nothing but bread. Since dad left, she just hasn’t been the same. I think him leaving again reminds her of the last war. He went missing for seven months, seven! I can’t imagine how awful it must have been for her.

Don’t you ever put me through that, Tom Bennett. Not even for a week. I swear I’d come to France myself to drag you back here by your ear.

Now that’s out of the way, I do have something somewhat exciting to tell you. My uncle’s been letting me use the camera a lot more than before he signed up to be a warden. I even got to do a family’s christening portrait all on my own! He wants me to be able to handle the studio on my own, should he ever get called up (not that we’re even slightly concerned about that, considering his age). Or – oh no. That’s not really why he’s doing it, is it? He wants me to be able to run it in case one day he doesn’t come back after the sirens go off, doesn’t he? I’m going to try not to think about that.

I brought it up because he’s allowed me to start using the portable camera rather than the big one in the studio. This way, I won’t always have to be nervous that he will walk in on me when I take pictures for you.

Speaking of, I think you’ll like what I enclosed today. I borrowed Mum’s, just as you asked.

Your adoring wife,

Tom stared at those two wonderful words. Husband. Wife.

He wished he’d been able to give you the ceremony you deserved. Not simply standing in the register office with all your parents looking on with half-hearted smiles before being rushed out almost immediately so the next couple could come in. You deserved so much more than that, roses and a band and a grand hall and all that shit. Once he was home, for good, he’d give it to you. All of it. Most of all, a big honeymoon. Not the one night in a shabby local hotel your parents, your uncle, and even his sister Lois had helped pitch in to get you. Only for him to have to leave again the next day.

The fact that he was leaving you as his wife instead of just as his best girl made it somehow so much harder.

But this helped.

He started by writing his reply to the actual content of your letter. If he started with the pictures, he knew he wouldn’t give a shit about whatever you’d written by the end.

My sweet darling wife,

I am so very sorry that you have things to do all day. Whenever I feel bad about sitting at the prow and staring at the endless ocean, I will remind myself that you are enduring such tortures as shopping and taking undoubtedly lovely family portraits. It will remind me that I should be eternally grateful that the king himself has sent me on the world’s most boring cruise.

Joking aside, I am very sorry you’re stressed. Give your mum my love and tell your uncle that I’m counting on him to look after you while I’m gone, and thank him for his good work (with the warden thing, not the photography). Please take care of yourself. I know you’re willing to stretch yourself thin for the people you love, but I love you too, and I’ll be pissed if I come home to a wife too exhausted to even fuck me.

I actually might not be bored for a few days. They’re sending us to do a job, even if I will be stuck in a rowboat for a day, maybe more. Ah well, at least I won’t be the one rowing, at least.

I’m very happy about you getting more responsibility at the studio. Of course, most of that is for selfish reasons, but I’m still proud of you, love. Can’t wait to see what you’ve enclosed. Oh and before I forget, I’d like to request something… red in your next letter.

Your proud husband,

Tom Bennett

He never wrote as much as you did, but he knew you didn’t mind. You didn’t want any details about the horrible, upsetting things he’d seen, it would only worry you too much. Besides, you knew what he really loved about your letters.

After taking another deep breath, Tom set the paper aside and finally allowed himself to look at your pictures.

“Oh, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl…”

The pearl necklace you wore was a little off-center, but Tom hardly noticed it. He was solely focused on what you were wearing—a full corset, in some kind of shiny, light-colored fabric. The top of it only held half of your perfect tits inside, allowing him to admire their smooth curves. What he wouldn’t give to hold them in his hands. Once he got home, he’d do just that for an hour at least.

Over your delightfully cinched waist, you’d worn a sheer petticoat with ruffles at the bottom – exactly like one you might have worn under your wedding dress, if you’d been able to wear one. He’d get you that, too. Even if only to go to your uncle’s studio to take pictures. Tom wouldn’t need to rent a morning coat, as he’d just wear his uniform, so he could spend extra getting you the perfect dress.

Maybe you could even redo the wedding night.

Tom surveyed the room again before lying back and sliding his hand below his waistband. He’d done this so many times that now, he got hard the instant he picked up the envelope, so he was still relatively proud of his restraint, and was sure you would be, too.

He started slowly, imagining slipping the petticoat off you. Imagine how you’d shiver as his finger ever so slightly brushed your skin. The sounds you’d make – sighs and little whimpers. He loved those little whimpers so much.

He let out his own soft sigh as he began to move his hand faster. Once the petticoat was down, he’d kneel in front of you and make quick work of your shoes, then take his sweet time unbuckling and lowering your stocking.

God, how he missed those legs, shapely and soft. He loved touching them, kissing them, laying between them. His hips kicked up as he imagined himself kissing his way up them when he got home, all the way up to that delightful place where your knickers dug into the little dip between your leg and your hips.

It was hard to hold back his moan at the thought.

He’d lower your knickers first, he decided. So he could bury himself in you until he was satisfied. Yours was a taste he craved as badly as he did for decent cigarettes. He sometimes woke from dreams of devouring you, thinking he could still taste you on his tongue.

Only when your legs were shaking would he stand, prowling behind you with his hands on your waist. He’d kiss your neck as he untied your corset. Or unhooked? He didn’t know, but he hoped it was untie – it was sexier.

The pearls would stay on the whole time as he kissed you, touched you, fucked you. He’d put them between your teeth to help you soften your cries and moans, then watch them fall back on your chest when you came. You always came with your mouth wide open as you screamed his name.

That memory of your voice and the way your nails would dig into his skin is what drove him over the edge, spilling himself into his hand.

Tom lay there, reliving his imaginings, until a bell rang, signaling it was time to get in the rowboats. He made sure to wipe his hand on the mattress of one of the rich cunts who mocked him and the other working-class boys before leaving, his own letter in hand.

He stopped by the room where they kept their post on his way to the rowboats, quickly folding his paper to stuff it into an envelope. A smile crept over his features as he addressed it to ‘Mrs. Tom Bennett,’ before filling out the rest. He was glad that you were living in your parent’s house, but he couldn’t wait until he could get a place just for the two of you.

Lastly, he wrote the date in the corner of the envelope, as you always liked to know when he received yours, so you could be sure to include all the relevant gossip he’d missed.

26 May, 1940

#tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett fic #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennet fanfiction #tom bennet smut #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett x you #world on fire #ewan mitchell #12 days of smuff

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burbur-49 · 4 months

Text

Scarred Love - Chapter Seven: Sun And Moon

a/n: finally got some motivation and finished it, enjoy <3

Word count: 1,516

Cw: Ghoap x f!reader, soulmates, talk about scars, tiny mention if kidnapping[in a joking way] (Tell me if I missed any)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8~ Masterlist

Soulmates. You have them. They’re yours. All yours. How is this real? The happiness flowing throughout your body has made you energetic. The boys have taken you to a café to celebrate. Your entire body is still except for your mind and your leg that won't stop bouncing with adrenaline. You still can’t believe it’s real.

Johnny must be able to feel how the adrenaline is pulsing throughout your body with the way his hand is placed on your knee. You can tell he’s feeling the same way by the giddy smile on his face. Simon gets up to get your drinks once they’re ready, and when he’s back, he places your latte in front of you and Johnny’s mocha frappé in front of the two of you.

“I don’t think the two of you need any more serotonin in your systems.” He says with a huff as he places his own drink down; Earl Grey tea.

“We’re jus’ happy, ye’ big oaf.” You laugh at Johnny’s words.

The three of you spend a bit talking about small, mundane things before the topic of family is brought up. Oh no, you forgot that you had to meet their families… And they have to meet yours. Your family isn’t a big fan of them. All your family knows (thinks) is that your soulmate(s) didn’t give two shits about you and caused you a bunch of pain. That’s half true, they didn’t care about you because they didn’t know you were hurting with them, they didn’t know you existed.

You can see it now; your mother red in the face, on verge of tears, a mix of joy and a mix of resentment, your father sitting on the couch acting like they don’t exist, keeping himself from yelling at them, your older sister looking at them with a look of jealousy and trying to figure out a way to steal them from you even though her soulmate is right next to her, the poor girl is so sweet, your younger brother wondering if the same will happen to him, but with two women, for the rest of the family; you can only imagine.

“Lass? Lass?” You’re pulled out of your train of thought by Johnny tapping your shoulder and calling for you. “Lass, you okay?”

“Yea… Just worried about the two of you meeting my family is all.” Johnny notices the truth behind your words by the sigh you let out and wraps an arm around you.

“Don’t worry Lass, me and Si can handle ourselves, right Si?”

“Right.” He huffs out.

You let out a sigh, “I believe you guys can handle yourselves, I do. It’s just that my family doesn’t exactly have… Nice opinions of the two of you…”

“Not nice opinions like how?” Simon says with a cocked eyebrow.

“Well…. They think you’re self-centered assholes who don’t give two shits about your soulmate and want to cause as much harm as possible to them.” The boys let out low whistles in response.

“Tha's no good…” Johnny mutters under his breath. “Could ye elaborate, Lass?”

You take in a deep breath, “I'm gonna say their hatred towards the two of you stem from the fact that not only was I born with a couple of scars, I continued getting small ones while I was little,” You hear Simon say something under his breath, you think he might've said “Curse that old bastard.”, “And between the ages of eight and now is when the scars and physical pain increased. I was badly bedridden for quite a bit.”

You can see the gears turning in both Johnny and Simon's head. What are they thinking about?

“Luvie, how old are you?”

You look at Simon as he speaks to you, realizing you've never told either of them your age, and vice versa.

“I'm twenty-one, why, how old are the two of you?” Your curiosity is peaked, how old are the two men you're supposed to spend the rest of forever with?

Johnny sighs, “I'm twenty-six and Si's thirty-one.”

“Oh, that’s not that bad, only a 5 and ten year difference.” You say with a giggle.

“Yer still a kid.” Simon huffs out, which you take offense to, “I am not a kid. I can drink, drive, smoke, and vote, thank you.” You say, the attitude heavily present in your voice.

“A kid can do all that with a fake ID.” He counters, “Yer brain won’t fully develop ‘til yer twenty-five.”

You dramatically gasp at his response. The audacity of this man, “Then by that logic, Johnny’s brain just recently fully developed.” You snap back.

“Johnny’s a doofus, but the horrors of war matured him.” Johnny takes playful offense to Simon calling him a ‘doofus’.

The horrors of war, you might not have seen them, but you sure as hell felt them. The proof is literally etched into your skin by the hundreds of scars that are littered all over your body. A large one on your ass cheek for god’s sake, the recovery for that one was hell; you were either constantly standing or laying on your stomach. You couldn’t sit for weeks. It’s debatable what’s worse; seeing and feeling what’s happening to your body as it’s happening, or not knowing what’s happening, just being in pain. You don’t know what horrors they’ve seen, what plagues their mind, memories, and even dreams.

You sigh, you’re not going to argue and be stubborn, as much as you want to, you know whatever counterargument they have could easily prove you wrong or start an argument. So, you decide to use pure fact against them.

“Actually, due to brain metabolism, a woman’s brain develops three years faster than a man’s. Meaning, by next year my brain will be fully developed, and you guys know what horrors caused your scars, I don’t. I don’t know why I have a bunch of ragged lines and bullet wounds littered throughout my body. This may seem like an excuse or guilt trip of sorts, but it’s not. It’s just facts.” You say with a sigh.

Johnny and Simon just look at you, and it dawns on them that you were ten when Simon was eighteen, fourteen when Price recruited him for Task Force 141. Nineteen, with terrible scars that only multiplied when you were sixteen and Johnny twenty-four, a year into his military work and being recruited to the 141. Your scars only got worse and more visible, but instead of detesting the two who had caused you so much harm, you had walked up to them and spoke to them so shyly, thinking they wouldn’t believe you.

The strange silence is interrupted by a call you get, it’s from Eve. Holy crap, you forgot to call her. It’s nearly three in the afternoon. You look at the boys.

“Hey, this is important, I gotta take this. Do you mind if I take it at the table?”

“Go ahead.” They say in unison.

You sigh and answer the call, not too sure how Eve’s going to react, “Hello?”

“Girl! Why haven’t you called or texted me? I’ve been worried you got kidnapped!” She fussed, “It wouldn’t be hard…. Those two are freaking huge…” She mutters under her breath.

“I haven’t been kidnapped.” You respond with what seems like a sigh mixed with a giggle, your response makes Johnny and Simon raise their eyebrows, “I’m actually a legal step below being married and have full citizenship in Great Britain now.” After you say this you instinctively pull the phone away from your ear expecting her to happily squeal.

“Oh my god! You’ve found your soulmates!” She squeals out loudly, just as you expected her to. You can hear all types of giggles and congratulations from your other friends that are in the room with her, “You have to send us a picture of them!” She happily suggests.

You look over to Simon and Johnny before asking them, “My friends want to see a picture of the two of you, could I take and send one?”

You get an affirmative gruff from Simon, “Only if ye set it as yer lock screen after.” Johnny says with a grin, which you take as a yes.

You quickly pull up your camera app and position the camera correctly, “Say cheese.” You ring out playfully. Johnny smiles, pearly whites on full display, and Simon does smile, you can’t see his mouth from under the black surgical mask he’s wearing, but you can see the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. You quickly take the picture and send it to your friend’s group chat.

The other line of the phone is silent for what seems like forever before you get a response, “Ho-ly Hell they are good-looking. They compliment each other so well, like the sun and the moon. You can be their Earth, their bringer of life.” Eve says with a giggle.

“Oh my god, ew. I’m hanging up.” You said with a giggle before hanging up the phone.

“So…. Kidnapping, pictures, and bringing life… Interesting topics…” Simon chides.

Taglist:

@under-the-dirt @littlebluespoon @actuallyhiswife @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @cdej6 @whynotbad @kaoyamamegami @oooof-ifellforyou @aldis-nuts @fanngirl19 @zealouspursecowboydeputy

#ghoap x reader #ghost x soap #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader #soap x fem reader #ghost x female reader #soulmates #Scarred Love

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good4olivia · 2 years

Text

about you

pairing: aemond targayren x niece!reader summary: after returning to kings landing after six years, you are welcomed back by intense feelings from your uncle a/n: yall i gave up with this fic, it was not going anywhere but i still like what i did end up writing so i will post it even though it's sorta of unfinished ah

Aemond wouldn’t keep his eyes off you for most of the dinner, you must admit you felt a bit uncomfortable under his watchful gaze. You hadn’t see him since you were both children and now that you were both a man and woman grown, there were other feelings emerging - feelings you weren’t sure how to feel about yet.

Aemond on the other hand, knew exactly how he felt about you. He had since he was a child, you defend him in front of his brother and nephews, you would train with him in the yard laughing as you both fell in mud and together you study the histories. After Driftmark, Aemond despised his older half-sister for taking you away. You were one of the only things in his life that brought him happiness and then you were gone. Until now.

There was nothing he could to prepare himself for seeing you again. All his fantasies about what you would look like now could never compare to seeing you in person. You we’re prefect, your smile was still the same and your laugh was still the most beautiful song to his ears.

“To my beautiful niece Y/N Valyron. Through the years that kept us apart, my love for you has not withered and I would be overjoyed if you would accept my hand in marriage.” The room fell silence for moment. Your heart was spinning, nowhere in your mind could you imagine Aemond wanting to marry you, let alone have the nerve to ask in front of everyone after just insulting your brothers.

Aemond looked at you, the pure love and adoration in his eyes for you made you stomach erupt in butterflies. He wasn’t looking at anyone else, gauging anyone else’s reaction. He only cared about yours, to him no one else mattered.

You stared back at him still mostly in shock. You could see in his eyes he was starting to worry about your answer so you pushed out your chair to walk over to him but your mother stood up first.

“Thank you for the offer, Aemond but I must decline. My daughter is already betrothed to a lord from house Stark.” Rhaenrya said.

“Good thing I’m asking Y/N and not you, sweet sister.” Aemond spat at her, his fist tensing around his cup.

You quickly stood up from your seat and walked over to Aemond, grabbing his hand in yours, rubbing your hand over his. “I had no idea about this until now, please believe me.”

Aemond smiled at you, squeezing your hand. “I know, my perfect girl.” He then looked up to his half-sister and the love in his eyes was completely gone. “Y/N will be my bride.” He moved his hand to the small of your back, you moved closer into him. “If you see through her bethroment to the Stark lord, I will feed him to my dragon before the wedding feast is over.” Rhaenrya tried to keep her gaze steady though her younger brother’s threats did not fall silent on her ears.

“It’s okay mother, I want to marry him.” You spoke. You weren’t quite sure anyone could hear you but Aemond, your voice so small. He knew that it was hard for you to stand up for yourself, let alone to Rhaenrya.

“You have to speak up, my love. They can’t hear you.” He spoke softly in your ear. You were nervous under everyone’s gaze. You took a deep breath, “Mother I want to marry Aemond.”

Everyone heard you this time. “Well that’s great news isn’t it?” Your grandsire, Viserys said. In his old age, he couldn’t sense the tension floating around the room.

“I think before we make it offical we should talk it over.” Alicent suggested, standing up as well.

“Yes, I think that would be best.” Rhaenyra agreed, if the two old friends could find common ground on one thing - it was not wanting their children to be wed.

Aemond only sighed, “Talk it over all you must, it will not stop us.”

He took your hand back in his, “Let us take our leave, my beautiful.” You walked out of the hall with him, avoiding the eyes of everyone. Especially your mother who was burning holes into the back of your head.

As soon as you reached his chambers, Aemond closed the door. “Y/N, my perfect bride-“

“Aemond what the hell was that?” You yelled at him.

He was caught off guard by your outburst. “Darling, what are you talking about?” He moved closer to you and flinched when you moved away from him.

“You proposed to me in front of our estranged families, why couldn’t you have given me warning? Or talked to our mothers beforehand.” You paced in front of him.

“You said you wanted to marry me in front of everyone. Were you lying?” His voice dropped and the look in his eye stopped you in your tracks.

“No.”

“Then I don’t see the issue. Would you like some wine? You barely drank anything all evening.” He walked over to the table. It didn’t cross your thoughts that he was on the other side of the room yet had a perfectly good idea of how much you had drank.

“Aemond, please just tell me why you didn’t bring this up with me beforehand?” You walked to stand in front of him.

He didn’t look at you as he replied, “I was afraid you would say no. I thought if I did it at dinner, you would feel compelled to say yes. Tell me, my niece would you say yes if I asked you here, alone in my chambers?”

“Yes.” You breathed.

He looked up at you and you slowly moved your hands to remove his eyepatch. He tensed a little but made no effort to stop you. You looked into his eyes, “I want to be you wife, Aemond.”

He brought your mouth into a kiss, you melted into it instantly. “I feared you would moved on from our childhood companionship.” He said to you, though his lips were still just a breath away from yours.

“I could never forget you, my prince.” You told him earnestly, running your hand down his hair. “I still don’t appreciate what you did tonight.”

He sighed and pulled further away from you, “What bothers you so my flower? That our mothers don’t approve of our engagement? Even if I had done what you had wished and asked them in private, they still wouldn’t have said yes. You know that, yes?”

“Yes, I know. What are we going to do?” You asked him as you sipped on the wine he gave you. He stared to remove his outerwear. You put the wine down to help him.

“We are going to wed, of course.” Aemond replied not missing the way your hands lingered around his waist. He relished in the feeling, his desire growing stronger every moment he was with you. “I will be counting the hours until I can finally lay with you as husband, princess.”

“You do not care about the rumours about my parentage?” You wondered as you folded his clothes over the chair.

“Hmm, it does not matter much to me. Once you are my wife, you will be a Targaryen.” He said.

You turned around sharply, “I am a Targaryen with or without you, uncle.”

“My love,” He spoke gently, cupping your face in his hands. “You are a bastard but when you are my wife, no one will dare question your parentage. If they do, I’ll cut off their head.”

You smiled sadly at his words, he truly thought he was proving words of comfort. “Taking inspiration from my step-father, I see?” You teased.

He laughed at your comment and was about to reply with a snide remark when the was a knock at the door. He sighed and kissed your head before walking to answer the door.

At the door stood Alicent, she peered behind him to see you standing further in the room. “Aemond, can we talk about this please, alone?”

“Anything you want to say, you can say in front of my bride.” He stated stepping aside letting his mother into the room.

“It’s okay, Aemond. The hour is late, I should return to my chambers.” You said. After tonight, you weren’t sure you could handle the argument that was about to occur between Aemond and his mother. The comforts of your own space is what you needed right now.

Aemond didn’t want you to go but didn’t put a fight instead he planted a chase kiss on your cheek, “Sleep well my love. I will come see you in the morrow.” He promised.

Alicent smiled at you as you walked past her, you returned it. You understood she was only doing the polite thing but it still felt nice. Alicent waited a few moments before turning to her son, “Son, I wish you would’ve talked to me about this beforehand.”

“Why? So you could tell me not to go through with it?” Aemond questioned.

Alicent nodded. “It was rash for you to make that announcement in front of everyone, have you even through it through? What it means for our families? Are you absolute sure you want her to be your wife?”

Aemond never liked to take a tone with his mother but really did not appreciate having to explain himself when it came to you, he believe the feelings you shared to be only for the two of you. He took a deep breath before replaying, “I’ve always known my love for her, mother and I meant it when I said I would feed that Stark lord to my dragon.”

“Those intense feelings aren’t healthy, my son. It might be best for you to entertain some other ladies at court, perhaps you will find a better match.” Alicent suggested. She had never been afraid of her second son until this moment, seeing the fire in his eyes.

“I will be marrying Y/N before the next moon, with or without your support. Rhaenrya took her away from me for six fucking years and I will not let her do it again!” He yelled, his composure leaving him the further his mother pressed her concerns.

Alicent flinched, not used to hearing her son raise his voice in front of her. It made her even more against this wedding but she knew her son wouldn’t change his mind, at least tonight. She could admit to herself she was afraid of what he might do if she kept pressing the matter.

After a few moments, Aemond apologised. “I did not mean to raise my voice at you, mother. I’m sorry. I just,” He paused trying to gather the words, “It’s so frustrating knowing no one wants us to be tougher, when frankly its no one else’s mind but ours.”

Alicent held her sons hand in her own, “I understand how you feel, my boy. I still have my concerns but I will hold my tongue for now. Get some rest now.” She kissed his cheek before leaving his chambers.

—

Aemond kept his promise and visited you in the morning, your handmaidens had brought breakfast for you both. “Thank you, that will be all.” Aemond said to them once they set down the food. You didn’t appreciate him dismissing them on your behalf, perhaps this is something you’ll have to get used too when he is your husband.

“Did you sleep well, my princess?” He asked you, as he sipped his wine. You were never one for drinking in the morning and you thought Aemond wasn’t either.

“I suppose, it was hard sleeping knowing my mother isn’t happy with me right now. We never fight.” You told him, taking a bite out of the lamb.

“Hmm, I’m not so used to my own mother being cross with me either. You know it has more to do with them, than us though right?”

“And you are okay with your mother being upset at you… if it means we will be together?”

He gave you an intense look before chuckling, “I thought last nights theatrics would erase all the doubt about my feelings for you.” He leaned over to hold your hand in his, “I would do anything for you my love. All I ask is that you stay here with me, in Kings Landing and be my lady wife.”

You were about to reply when your door flew open, your mother and step-father the cause of the intrusion. Aemond instantly tensed up and held your hand tighter.

“Did he spend the night? What has gotten into you, Y/N?” Rhaenrya questioned at the sight.

“No of course not mother, Aemond only came to break fast with me.” You answered, the nerves clear in your voice. To Aemond’s dismay you removed your hand from his grip.

“We have to speak to my step-daughter. Alone.” Damon told Aemond, sizing him up.

Aemond only smiled, “I’m not leaving, I just got here.” He gestured for them to sit down, “I think we can all discuss this as a family.”

They remained standing but didn’t put up a fight to Aemond staying, “Y/N. I’m sorry I did not tell you about the lord from House Stark, I was planning on it when we got back home. He’s a good man, I can assure you. I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise.” Your mother told you.

“I understand mother, though I do wish you would’ve told me. Will Lord Stark be okay with cancelling the proposal?” You asked, standing up to meet Rhaenrya.

“Who gives a fuck about that fucking northern lord? He will be fine that his engagement is broken, otherwise-“

“You’ll feed him to your dragon, yes we know.” Damon finished for Aemond.

“Mother, I sincerely want to marry Aemond. I know that is not what you want, but I hope you will find it in your heart to be happy for me.” You said to your mother, who was searching your eyes for any lies.

Rhaenrya couldn’t say she found anything but she could tell her daughter had some reservations. “Let’s take a walk in the gardens, my daughter.”

“Y/N, we were in the middle of breakfast and-“ Aemond was once again cut off by Damon, with a hand to his chest as the woman walked out the door.

“You need to calm down, nephew. The more you try and control her, the more she’ll push away.” Damon tried to counsel.

Aemond was not having it, “You don’t know her like I do, I am what she needs and her mother is going to try to take her away from me, again. I will not allow it.”

—

“How did you talk with Rhaenrya go, my love?” Aemond asked, linking his arm with yours. After your talk with your mother, you had left to find Aemond where you knew he would be - the training yard. As soon as he spotted you, he quickly finished his match with the guard he was sparring with.

Now he was walking with you along the beach, he knows how much you love the water. He loved your the way your eyes would light up. “She does not want us to marry, that’s for sure.” You said as you rubbed his forearm.

“Hmm. What did she say, exactly?”

You were hesitant to say the truth, Aemond’s behaviour recently has been of concern to you. “She still very much would like for me to marry the Stark lord, my prince. She refuses to send word of our engagement.”

Aemond’s jaw tensed but he managed to temper his rising rage. “Well we weren’t expecting any different, we were, my flower?”

You were taken back by his calm composure, you smiled up at him. “No I suppose we weren’t. I still don’t know what to do. Are we to wed without our mothers approval?”

“Yes, that’s a beautiful idea, my love.” He dropped his arm from yours to hold your hand, “I will arrange for a priest to marry us in secret.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen hc #house of the dragon

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