#he had left of u and ur daughter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lizzyiii · 2 months ago

Note

hey, so ur works are literally heaven in itself (im in love with u)

you guys reading my works are what validate me in life (i'm so in love with you too, babe)

Scales and Arpeggios

pairing | aemond x wife!reader word count | 4.3k words summary | aemond and his wife share tender moments with their children, engaging in music lessons that bring warmth and joy to their family amidst the shadows of the dance of dragons.

note | slight angst, hotd au (greens win), KING AEMOND, toothrotting fluffff, children, no description of reader, fluffy Aemond, soft aemond, pregnant!reader a/n | aristocats inspired (duchess and her kittens), I thought of this this morning. I really needed this fluff after all my negative thoughts and feelings. also don't worry, I have all my requests in the making, and in my draft's - prepare for the angst and feels.

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Aemond was tired.

Day upon day, his life was mired in endless council meetings, audiences with quarrelsome lords, and grievances of the peasantry, all in the name of healing a realm ravaged by war.

It had been two years since the Dance of the Dragons had torn through the land, yet the scars remained, as fresh as the charred ruins left in the dragons’ wake.

And here he was, King of the Seven Kingdoms—but at what bitter cost. He had bested Daemon in the fierce clash over the God’s Eye, and his half-sister, the self-styled Queen, had been devoured by her own madness.

She met her end as Sunfyre tore her asunder upon Aegon’s command. Not long after, Aegon himself succumbed to his wounds, leaving the crown a hollow prize.

Aemond had defeated the Blacks. The traitors were vanquished, their cause snuffed out. But his family had been taken in the fires of war. Jaehaerys murdered; young Maelor torn apart; Daeron slain.

Helaena, dear Helaena, had taken her own life. And Aegon—Aegon had burned away with his dragon, his defiance crumbling under the agony of his wounds.

All that remained of his bloodline were fleeting shadows of memory and ashes of kin. Only his wife, the woman bound to him since he was but fourteen, remained steadfast.

Through the dark days of the war, you had been his only constant, his sole source of solace. In the end, that was all he had left: his bride, his son Aeron, his niece Jaehaera, and his mother, Queen Alicent, who clung to life with a frail resilience.

It was his wife, too, who had stayed his hand when he considered the fates of Daemon’s daughters. You had urged him to spare the lives of Baela and Rhaena, allowing them sanctuary with their sole surviving brother, Aegon the Younger, now far away in Driftmark.

And yet, his mother had been torn asunder by grief, the madness that followed the loss of three of her children consuming her like a wildfire. Just months ago, Alicent had succumbed to the cruel grip of Winter Fever, and with her passing, the warmth of their family had dimmed further.

He blamed himself, for in his fervor to protect his own—the children he adored and his beloved wife—he had allowed himself to be blind to his mother’s decline. Each day, he devoted himself to the care and nurturing of Aeron and Daenys, ensuring Jaehaera felt the presence of family, while the ever-looming responsibilities of the crown overshadowed his duties as a son.

Now, he barely caught glimpses of the life that remained. He would rise in the early hours, the dawn light casting a soft glow upon his wife’s sleeping form, a fleeting moment of peace before he was swept away by the relentless tide of royal obligations.

In the fleeting minutes before he departed for court, he could only admire the serene lines of your face, knowing that the day would steal him from your side again.

The children were no better; brief encounters in the corridors felt like whispers of a past he could hardly grasp. Aeron would be playing with his toys, and Daenys might be crawling after the palace cats, laughter echoing softly in the halls, but those joyful sounds seemed distant, muffled by the duties that consumed him.

But on this day, a flicker of fortune shone upon him; he had managed to complete his duties earlier than usual. Typically, he toiled long into the night, only to return to the warmth of their chambers when all were asleep. Though it was after supper, a glimmer of hope sparked within him that perhaps he could still find them, to grasp those precious moments he had so dearly missed.

Through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, the young Prince Aeron and Princess Jaehaera raced, their laughter echoing against the cold stone walls as they hurried toward the music lesson that awaited them. The air was filled with the thrill of their spirited competition, each eager to claim the title of first to arrive.

As they rounded a corner, Jaehaera noticed Aeron pulling ahead, determination etched across his small face. In a quick, daring move, she reached out and tugged at his tunic, managing to pull him back just enough to dart ahead. “Me first!” she shouted, her voice ringing with triumph.

Not to be outdone, Aeron swiftly grabbed hold of her arm, attempting to halt her advance. “And why should you be first?” he challenged.

Jaehaera strained against his grip, lifting her chin defiantly as she met his gaze. “Because I am the future queen, that’s why!” she declared, her voice bold and unwavering.

With that, she broke free, dashing down the corridor, but Aeron was quick on her heels, bumping her to the side in a playful shove that almost sent her sprawling against the wall. “You’re not a queen! You’re nothing but my cousin!” he yelled.

Jaehaera shot him a fierce glare, her brows knitting together. “I’ll show you if I’m a queen or not,” she murmured under her breath, determination simmering in her tone as they neared the door to the music room.

In a last-ditch effort to claim victory, Jaehaera pushed Aeron aside just as they reached the threshold. He stumbled slightly but quickly regained his footing, throwing a frown her way. “Fight fair, Jae!”

Without missing a beat, she rolled her eyes and slipped into the room, only to be met with an unexpected shove from Aeron as he followed closely behind. He hadn’t meant to, but the force sent Jaehaera tumbling to the ground with a hard thud that echoed in the hall.

She shot him a fierce glare, her lips forming a pout as she rubbed her side. “Now that hurt!” she exclaimed, the hint of a whine creeping into her voice.

“Aunty! Aunty!” she called out, her tone shifting to one of urgency.

Moments later, you entered the room, carrying Daenys on your hip. A mixture of sternness and affection danced on your face as you regarded the two children. “Jaehaera, my darling, Jaehaera,” you said, your voice firm but softening with a smile. “You must stop that; it is really not ladylike.”

Your gaze shifted to Aeron, your tone turning slightly admonishing. “And you, Aeron, such behavior is most unbecoming of a lovely gentleman.”

Aeron’s cheeks flushed, and he scowled at Jaehaera, ready to defend himself. “Well, she started it,” he retorted, crossing his arms defiantly.

Jaehaera, unfazed, lifted her chin in a gesture of regal disdain, pointedly turning her gaze away from him. “Queens do not start fights,” she declared, her voice dripping with authority. Then, with a scrunch of her nose, she added, “But they can finish them.”

Aeron rolled his eyes dramatically at Jaehaera, sticking out his tongue in mockery, but the jest was short-lived as he heard his mother’s voice call out from across the room. “Now, Aeron, don’t be rude,” you scolded, your tone firm but laced with affection.

He turned to you, flashing an innocent smile, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. “We were just practicing fighting and pushing,” he replied, his words punctuated by an exaggerated shrug that only added to the mischief of the moment.

You felt a jolt of discomfort at his words, a wave of haunting memories crashing over you. The echoes of past conflicts flickered in your mind—battles fought and lives lost, the heavy price of such lessons. “Targaryens do not practice fighting and pushing and things like that,” you replied, your voice low, the irony of your own words hanging heavily in the air. “It is just horrible.”

With a determined effort, you sought to redirect the conversation and lighten the mood. “Now,” you began, your expression softening as you turned your gaze to Daenys, nestled in your arms, her tiny form clearly on the brink of sleep.

You smiled adoringly at her, a sense of calm washing over you as you looked back at Jaehaera and Aeron. “Why don’t you two head over to the piano, and let’s begin our lesson?”

“Yes, Aunty!” Jaehaera chirped, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as she practically danced toward the instrument, subtly shouldering Aeron aside.

Aeron glared at Jaehaera, his indignation flaring up momentarily, but he quickly turned to you with a soft nod. “Yes, Mama,” he replied.

“It’s time to practice your scales and your arpeggios,” you encouraged, as you moved toward the piano. You settled onto the chaise beside it, Daenys resting her head comfortably against your shoulder, her eyes half-closed as she watched her brother and cousin with a sleepy fascination.

Jaehaera stood poised beside the grand piano, her back straight and shoulders squared, a picture of determination. She cleared her throat, the sound echoing softly in the air, and waited expectantly for Aeron to begin.

However, she cast him a pointed glare as he took his sweet time, leisurely warming up his hands as if the lesson were no pressing matter.

Finally, after an impatient moment, Jaehaera announced, “I’m ready, Maestro,” her voice ringing with a blend of authority and hautiness.

Aeron shot her a sideways glance, his mischievous grin returning as he subtly shifted his foot and stomped down hard onto Jaehaera’s, eliciting a sharp squeak from her.

“Aunty, he did it again!” she exclaimed, turning her wide eyes toward you, indignation clear in her voice.

Aeron, unfazed, looked away, propping his chin on his hand with an exaggerated air of nonchalance. “Tattletale,” he whispered in response.

You carefully rubbed Daenys' back, the gentle motion soothing your daughter. Your patience was unwavering, as you said, “Now, Aeron, please, darling, settle down and play me your pretty little song.” Your voice was calm, and your tone both firm and nurturing.

With a resigned sigh, Aeron nodded, his playful demeanor shifting as he positioned himself at the piano. “Yes, Mama,” he murmured, fingers poised above the keys. As he began to play, the room filled with the soft, melodic strains of his music.

Aemond was at a loss, frustration tightening his chest as he searched the sprawling halls of the Red Keep for you. He had scoured your shared chambers, his personal solar, and the children’s bedrooms, but you were nowhere to be found.

The sinking feeling in his gut only grew as he realized he needed assistance, and at last, he sought out one of the guards stationed nearby.

The guard cleared his throat and straightened slightly, sensing the prince’s impatience. “At Her Grace's music lessons, sire,” he replied, his tone respectful.

“Music lessons?” Aemond murmured to himself, brow furrowing in confusion. He had not realized such an event was taking place, nor had he been informed of it.

Without another moment's hesitation, he rushed in the direction indicated, making his way down a seldom-used wing of the castle, its walls lined with faded tapestries and the whispers of history.

As he drew closer, he heard the unmistakable sound of a piano, its notes cascading through the air like a gentle stream, drawing him forward.

Coming closer to the door, he opened it quietly before he peeked his head inside, his heart melting at the sight as he heard Jaehaera's voice.

"Do mi sol do do sol mi do," the girl of six summers sang, her voice young and somewhat pitchy as she sang confidently, "Every truly cultured music student knows. You must learn your scales and your arpeggios Finger music ringing from your chest And not your nose. While you sing your scales and your arpeggios"

Aemond stood just beyond the doorway, a swell of pride filling his chest as he watched his five-year-old son, Aeron, seated at the piano. The boy’s fingers danced across the keys with a mixture of enthusiasm and concentration, his small face lit with determination.

To Aemond’s surprise, Aeron broke into song as well, his voice sweet yet tinged with the tremor of youth. “If you’re faithful to your daily practicing, you will find your progress is encouraging,” he sang, each note imbued with his budding confidence.

Beside him, Jaehaera stood, arms crossed and a hint of exasperation in her eyes as she rolled them subtly at Aeron’s exuberance. Aeron continued, his voice growing bolder yet still wavering, “Do mi sol me do, mi sol me fa la sol, it goes. When you do your scales and your arpeggios.”

Jaehaera lifted her voice to sing her part again, “Do mi so do,” but she was abruptly cut off by Aeron, who had become overly enthusiastic at the piano, his fingers now racing across the keys with fervor.

“Do mi sol do, do sol mi do,” you chimed in, your voice ethereal and melodic, casting a gentle spell over the room. Aemond found his gaze drawn to you, the light catching your features as you sang alongside the children.

Jaehaera quickly fell in with you, her voice harmonizing beautifully, “Do mi sol do, do sol mi do. Though at first it seems as though it doesn’t show, like a tree, ability will bloom and grow.”

In your arms, Daenys, who had previously been drifting off to sleep, now sat wide awake, her bright eyes filled with wonder as she attempted to mimic the words you and Jaehaera sang. Her babbling intermingled with the melody.

The three of you continued in unison, your voices intertwining, “If you’re smart, you’ll learn by heart what every artist knows. You must sing your scales.....and your arpeggios.”

Aemond leaned against the doorframe, a small smile gracing his lips as he took in the delightful scene unfolding before him. The flickering light of the candles cast a warm glow across the room, illuminating the joy radiating from his children.

Aeron beamed at you, his face aglow with pride as the final notes of the song faded into the air. “How was that, Mama?” he asked, his bright eyes shining with eager anticipation.

You turned to him, your heart swelling with affection. “Absolutely wonderful, my love,” you replied, your voice laced with warmth and encouragement. Just as you opened your mouth to add more praise, a small, excited voice broke through the moment.

“Kēpa! Kēpa!” Daenys cried out, her tiny hands clapping together in delight, her wide lilac eyes fixed on the door where Aemond stood.

All three of you turned your attention toward the threshold, and Aemond couldn’t help but feel a slight flush of warmth at the sight of his little girl’s enthusiasm. He stood there, somewhat awkwardly.

“Do you wish to join us, my king?” you teased gently, a playful amusement dancing in your tone as you gestured for him to enter.

Aemond gave you a small smile before striding into the room, the familiar weight of his crown momentarily forgotten in the presence of his family.

Daenys, her cherubic face lighting up with excitement, eagerly raised her arms toward him, and he scooped her up effortlessly from your embrace, her giggles filling the air. “I was not aware there were music lessons in the first place,” he remarked, an amused glimmer in his eye.

“Merely for the children’s entertainment, I assure you,” you replied softly, your heart warmed by the sight of your husband.

Aemond shot you a skeptical glance, an eyebrow arching slightly as he nodded. “Oh, I am sure,” he replied, a hint of teasing lacing his tone.

“Father, did you see how I played?” Aeron asked eagerly, his small hands still resting on the piano keys, a bright grin spreading across his face.

“Yes, I did,” Aemond said, his expression softening as he smiled down at his son. “Much better than any bard I’ve heard.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable, and Aeron beamed at the praise.

“And did you see how I sang, uncle?” Jaehaera chimed in, her voice a melodic chime that danced through the air like the notes of the piano.

“Yes, of course,” Aemond replied, nodding with genuine admiration. “One day, you might even come to rival the Queen’s voice.” The compliment brought a bright flush to Jaehaera's cheeks, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“She’ll be even better than me,” you murmured, a soft smile gracing your lips as you watched the exchange unfold.

As the children chattered excitedly, desperate for their King's attention, your gaze drifted to the doorway, where you spotted your maid, Emery, standing patiently, signaling that it was time for bed.

You cleared your throat gently, drawing the children's attention back to you. “Children, it’s time to go to bed,” you announced softly, your voice laced with warmth yet firm.

Aeron turned to you, his wide eyes shimmering with innocence as he clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture. “Do we have to, Mama? Father just got here,” he implored, his lower lip jutting out in a way that made your heart ache.

You sighed, feeling your resolve weaken under the weight of his pleas. However, Aemond came to your rescue, his hand affectionately ruffling Aeron’s fluffy silver hair. “And I’ll come say goodnight once you are in bed, little king,” he promised, his voice soothing and reassuring.

You tilted your head toward the door, giving a gentle nudge. “Emery is waiting for you,” you murmured, the soft authority in your tone guiding them toward the inevitable.

Disappointment flickered in both Jaehaera’s and Aeron’s eyes, yet they nodded reluctantly. Jaehaera approached your side and planted a tender kiss on your cheek, her small frame radiating warmth as she bid you goodnight.

Following her lead, Aeron hurried to do the same, his kiss lingering a moment longer before he bent down to press his lips against your swelling stomach, his sweet gesture eliciting a smile from you.

Aemond, observing the tender moment, passed baby Daenys into your arms. She giggled excitedly, her laughter a delightful sound as you smothered her with kisses, before you handed Daenys to Emery, who was prepared to lead the children out.

As the soft patter of little feet faded down the corridor, the lively laughter and chatter of the children ebbed away, leaving you and Aemond cocooned in the warm embrace of the cozy chamber.

A serene silence enveloped the two of you, a precious moment amidst the storm of duties and the remnants of grief that lingered in the air.

“Hello, husband,” you greeted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to shatter the comfortable stillness that settled between you.

“Hello, wife,” Aemond murmured in return, his tone low and warm as he lowered himself onto the piano bench beside you.

With a gentle grace, he let his hand drift over the piano keys, pausing just short of touching them. It was a silent acknowledgment of his lack of skill, yet he seemed fascinated by the instrument nonetheless.

You watched him, the lines of his face illuminated by the soft glow of the chamber, and felt a pang of affection.

“I apologize for not informing you about the lessons,” you said, your voice steady yet filled with sincerity.

“Tis alright,” he replied, though his gaze remained fixed away from you, a flicker of concern shadowing his features. “When did it begin?”

“The day of your mother’s funeral,” you replied gently, choosing your words with care. “Your duties had taken you away, and Aeron and Jaehaera were feeling very down. I thought music might lift their spirits, and it has. Jaehaera even asked me to teach her to sing and play.”

At the mention of that day, Aemond’s expression shifted. Guilt washed over him, and memories flooded back—his mother’s service at the Sept, the heavy atmosphere of sorrow, and how he had been swept away in the currents of his responsibilities, never given a moment to truly mourn.

He nodded thoughtfully, his voice barely above a whisper. “Aeron seems particularly skilled.”

“He is a very intelligent little boy,” you agreed, your eyes not leaving his as he continued to stare at the piano, lost in thought. “He has an eagerness to learn that reminds me of you.”

Aemond chuckled softly, the sound breaking through the solemnity that hung in the air. “I fear he has far more talent than I ever did,” he said, a hint of pride seeping into his words. “But I’m glad to see them find joy in something so beautiful.”

“Music has a way of healing,” you remarked, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Especially in times like these.”

He turned to face you fully, his piercing violet eye searching yours. “And what of you? How do you fare amidst the shadows of loss?”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his concern. “I carry the grief, as we all do. But I find solace in our children. Their laughter reminds me of the light we can still find in our lives.”

Aemond’s gaze softened, and he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing over yours with an intimacy that sent warmth coursing through you. “You are stronger than I,” he said earnestly. “I often wonder how you manage to bear the burdens we both carry.”

With a gentle squeeze of his hand, you replied, “We bear them together, my king. That is what family is for.”

Aemond's brow furrowed slightly, and he murmured, “Aeron... he shall be a better king than I.” His voice held a weight of expectation and uncertainty, a reflection of his own doubts.

You turned your gaze toward him, a hint of sadness flickering in your eyes as you stood and swiftly settled beside him on the bench.

Reaching out, you cupped his face in your hands, grounding him with your touch. “Only because he shall learn from your mistakes. Every king should be better than the former.”

Aemond stared into your eyes, his heart swelling with gratitude. In truth, he had often wondered what he had done to deserve your steadfast presence. Memories washed over him—of the day he first met you when he was merely fourteen, a boy angry and hateful at the world.

He leaned his forehead against yours, finding solace in your warmth. “You are very wise, my queen. You never lead me astray.”

“Destiny has its designs,” you replied softly, a small smile gracing your lips. “And I am merely fulfilling mine. To guide you, to stand by your side.”

He chuckled lightly, the sound a blend of affection and admiration. “Even when I do not deserve it?”

“Especially then,” you countered, your tone playful yet sincere. “Every king needs a queen to keep him grounded, to remind him of what truly matters.”

Aemond took a deep breath, the weight of the realm and his responsibilities momentarily lifted. “And what is that, my love?”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It is love, loyalty, and the hope for a better tomorrow. The kind of future we want for our children.”

Aemond leaned back, a rare lightness settling in his chest for the first time in what felt like an age. He placed his hand over your round belly, feeling the warmth radiate from within. You tilted your head, an amused smile blossoming on your lips as you caught his gaze.

“Aeron has taken to kissing my stomach,” you said, your tone playful. “He believes that if he shows enough affection, it might persuade my body to grant him a brother. He claims it would make his chances of having a fair fight against the girls much better.”

Aemond chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement. Then, nodding toward the piano, he added, “Teach me. I may never reach the heights of Aeron’s talent, but perhaps I could aspire to match little Daenys’ skill.”

Your laughter chimed like music in the air, a sound that warmed his spirit. Aemond grinned at the absurdity of comparing his potential to that of his infant daughter. “Very well,” you said, your eyes sparkling with delight. “First, let us see what you can do.”

You guided him closer to the piano, instructing him to place his large, slender hands over yours on the keys. “Feel the movement,” you encouraged, your voice soft and patient. “It’s not merely about the notes; it’s about the rhythm and the heart behind them.”

Unbeknownst to you and Aemond, enveloped in your own intimate world, three pairs of curious eyes peered in from the slightly ajar door of the chamber. Jaehaera, Aeron, and little Daenys had quietly slipped away from their caretakers.

Jaehaera, though only six years of age, sighed wistfully as she watched her uncle and aunt. “How romantic,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a sense of longing.

She cradled baby Daenys in her arms, the infant unusually calm, her wide eyes reflecting the gentle glow of the room as she took in the scene of her mother and father together.

Aeron, standing beside Jaehaera, observed his parents intently, a thoughtful frown furrowing his brow. “Do you think our marriage will be like that?” he asked, glancing over at Jaehaera to gauge her reaction.

Jaehaera turned to him, her gaze sharp and serious, her little brows furrowing in determination. “It has to, Aeron. It has to.”

“Do you think we’ll be that happy?” he pressed, his youthful innocence shining through, even as the shadows of doubt crept into his mind.

She nodded vigorously, her long silver hair bouncing with the motion. “Of course! The king and queen love each other. If we love each other like they do, it will be just as wonderful.”

Aeron pondered her words, his gaze drifting back to the sight of you and Aemond, lost in your shared moment. “And what if…” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “What if things become difficult, like they do in the stories?”

Jaehaera frowned slightly, her youthful optimism momentarily faltering. “Then we fight for each other, just like they do,” she declared with conviction.

Aeron nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face. “I like that idea,” he said softly, his gaze drifting back to the happy scene of his mother and his father.

“We’ll make it the best story ever.”

[Jaehaera, Aeron, Daenys]

headcannonsss:

— aemond and reader end up having six children in total: aeron (18), daenys (15), mikael (13), jaemes (10), elaena (7) and aelora (4) + jaehaera (19)

— aeron and jaehaera marry

— daenys falls in love with aegon (rhaenyra's son)

— mikael comes out as gay

— jaemes and elaena marry

— aelora refuses to marry and part with her mother (sophie/donna relationship)

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x you #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond

569 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 5 months ago

Text

four seven eight, phase 3 (3)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: jungkook wants to fight with, for, and beside you.

alternatively, nothing will ever be the same again, and you and jungkook couldn’t be any happier.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

[ fluff, angst, the moral dilemma of keeping someone (read: yoongi) who was almost ur first, last, and everything in ur life despite having another person (read: jungkook) to be exactly that, yearning, full circle moments, The Vagueness n different kind of angst now that 478's a family n not jus a couple anymore, redemption :) ]

notes: thank you for locking in!!!! the og 478 fic aka phase 1 was released two years ago n now we're here can u believe . hee-hee thank u for all the love you've given and continue to have for them!! TRUSTTT that this won't be the last you'll see of them :-)

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

In a nightmare that Jungkook’s experiencing in real time, Hwayoung mistakes Yoongi as her dad.

Jungkook knows fully that there’s a knee-jerk reaction available for practically everything. He knows it well, because the impulse that occupies him kicks in during the most important events of his life.

Your husband’s impulse, which he often confuses for instinct, is too driven to the point that even for the briefest second, all that Jungkook could feel is himself.

He tasted blood in the roof of his mouth when you left him the first time all those years ago. He had clenched his fists so hard, he almost drew blood over the realization that you had given up on him, even if it was for the time-being.

He felt his heartbeat in his eardrums when Hwayoung’s cries first pierced into the world (and straight to his ears), all to the point that the people surrounding you thought that he suddenly fell ill.

Jungkook could and should be able to feel himself right now; right now when his only child glazes past him and calls Yoongi as her dad, and right now when he hears his name called out for someone it doesn’t and should never belong to — except Jungkook can’t even feel his fingers.

He can’t taste blood in the roof of his mouth and he can’t feel his heartbeat in his eardrums. Jungkook can’t even claw himself out of a nightmare that’s built around him yet staged by his karma alone.

“That’s not appa, Hwayoung,” you cut into the thick air, your lips set in a straight line as it takes everything in you not to scoop up Jungkook into your arms because he looks like he’s about to collapse in shock. “Yoongi’s not your dad.”

Hwayoung understands, of course. She understands it like how she always does whenever her little mistakes get rectified. The concentrated pout on her face tells you that she’s listening, hearing you loud and clear as you reiterate a fact that she seems to have forgotten.

Jungkook genuinely tweaks within his own hold, the knot in his throat unbearable as he can’t even figure out how he’s standing beside you on his own to feet. He stands beside his wife and he stands before his daughter, yet he doesn’t even know if the weight he holds in between is enough for him to stay rooted.

Jungkook is as still as a rock while he watches you correct Hwayoung on the spot. He’s immoveable as he sees his daughter’s eyes flit to him in curiosity before finally coming to realization. He’s frozen, not by his own choosing, but because neither of his impulses nor instincts kick in.

Hwayoung nods easily, and Jungkook thinks that he’s about to lose his mind if it hadn’t already been muddled three seconds prior.

In a dream Jungkook doesn’t tell anyone, he’s not as easily interchangeable with Yoongi in the same way that Hwayoung thinks apples are pears sometimes, and that blue is somehow violet.

The mornings without Hwayoung have been too long for Jungkook.

They’ve been too long since her impromptu vacation from the both of you started, dragging out endlessly to the point that he had to ask you to hold his phone so he could withhold himself from hovering above Hwayoung by asking Yoongi for updates by the minute. Mornings were too bright; too normal to be spent by you and him without a playful toddler who tries to slip her finger in whenever someone yawns.

Jungkook’s missed his mornings with Hwayoung in between the two of you.

He missed the mornings where it’s still dark out and he’s been asleep enough for long that he could make out Hwayoung twitching in the dark as she searches for a cold pillow, before later ending up next to your stomach or next to his head.

He longed (read: still longs perpetually) for the mornings wherein he gets to sleep in and it’s you and Hwayoung who wake him up from dreams he’s always willing to part with, because he knows that he has something infinitely better to wake up to.

“Hiii, appa,” Hwayoung drawls out, hugging his leg as Jungkook automatically pats her head with a gentle hand, the smile on his face more or less forced as he chokes out a greeting. He gets snapped out of his trance immediately, even if he isn’t sure that the sight he woke up to this morning is even worth living alongside with.

“Hi, Young-ie,” he whispers, his eyes strikingly neutral even when Hwayoung grabs his hand and swings it around lightly.

Jungkook make the mistake of looking up and he doesn’t know which is worse; your husband, for once, can’t definitively tell if you looking at him empathically should placate him or unsettle him deep into his core.

What Jungkook can tell however, is that seeing Yoongi’s sly gaze on him with the ghost of a smirk on his lips plays into the rage that he can barely hold onto, if not for the little hand that’s already silently apologized to him.

Hwayoung may not know any better at the moment, but she knows well not to ask questions when Jungkook suddenly stands up out of nowhere when he’s just agreed to play on the floor with her two seconds ago, and she knows better not to stare when you immediately agree and not interrogate him at all.

“I’m gonna step out. Need to blow off steam because otherwise, I’ll take it out on him,” Jungkook whispers to your ear, hands grimly shoved into his pockets. “I know we both saw him do the same thing, Y/N,” he laughs humorlessly, clenching his jaw tightly before he leans down to speak again, enough for Yoongi to both see and hear just how angry he is. “Go put your friend on a leash.”

Yoongi likes to think that it’s spite that keeps him running.

The notion of doing things out of spite is not new at all to him; as a matter of fact, he actually thinks he’s the foundation of it.

Yoongi can’t keep track of the many times that it was spite that put food on the table and pushed him to his limits to arrive at the state that he’s in now. Yoongi yearns unlike no other to the point that it ails him because longing, without any bitterness in it at all, feels pointless.

Longing with only the ambition to surrender in the end is pointless; it doesn’t push Yoongi at all to be the best in anything. It doesn’t make him feel any better because without the regret in his stomach and the resentment in his chest, he wouldn’t be reminded of his dream.

In a dream Yoongi wants to tell everyone, he doesn’t fall short to Jungkook.

It’s a ridiculous gag dream that feels like a poorly-made skit to him. Yoongi, with all his spite, can’t believe that he only comes second to the likes of Jungkook, who hadn’t worked as hard as he did nor attempted to fight tooth and nail to be even recognized (even under your light) in the first place.

In a well-rehearsed yet trite skit that appears in Yoongi’s mind whenever he goes to sleep after drinking a little too much or waking up with the sheets a little colder than usual, he doesn’t acknowledge Jungkook to be in the same orbit as him; in his dream that’s equivalent to Jungkook’s nightmare, you and Hwayoung are within arm’s reach.

It had been spite that made Yoongi smirk at Jungkook, right after the latter’s whole worldview shattered in front of him when Hwayoung mistook him for a stranger.

It’s everything but spite that makes Yoongi keep his head up high at you, refusing to bow even just a little out of shame. You’ve dragged him to the nearest empty room and while he would’ve teased you about it for any other context, he can’t seem to do it now when you look at him in disgust, even before he gets to open his mouth.

“What was that, Yoongi?!” you fume, standing by the door as you keep your voice hushed.

It’s almost poetic for Yoongi to see because even when you’re bound to curse him out, even when the both of you are at a turning point (or whatever is left of it to change before it perishes completely), you still put Hwayoung first above all else.

“What was what?” he smiles cheekily, even if it’s apparent that it’s just for show because if anything, it’s Yoongi who knows the most about his own fallacy.

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“I was playing around?” he offers weakly, shrugging his shoulders to make it seem that he doesn’t care at all about the anger you’ve reserved specifically for him; as if he’s not trying to buy time to prolong what could be the last time he’ll ever see you outside of work.

“That was nothing, Yoongi. What Hwayoung said meant nothing,” you grit, your fists balled to your sides as you try not to let your mind drift to the fact that you had confronted Yoongi first before comforting your own husband. “She’s a kid and she just got confused.”

There’s only silence between the two of you, and Yoongi wants to stay in it.

Yoongi wants to consume the dead air if it means that he won’t be backed into a corner and forced to take all the hits that Jungkook’s reality – which are his dreams— could throw to his face.

“You don’t have to tell me what I already know,” he murmurs lowly yet for some odd reason, Yoongi still refuses to bend his head.

The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t feel regret at all. Out of all the times he could ever feel it, he doesn’t feel it now, even when the supposed love of his life wants to banish him out forever.

“Then why do you look happy about it?” you seethe. “Why the hell did you look happy when Hwayoung called you her dad?”

“Because I was,” Yoongi smiles so tightly, his skin buckles under the pressure — come to think of it, his eyes almost feel like they’re stinging. “Do you want me to lie?”

“It would be better if you do,” you retort without even thinking, the tremble of your bottom lip only goading Yoongi further.

Yoongi stands before you, proud yet unwilling, as he serves as the largest and longest milestone of how far you’ve come in your career with his unrequited love for you as the barometer.

“Oh,” he reacts, his face falling before his throat tightens impossibly. Yoongi keeps nodding his head madly, the pricking of tears in his eyes making him frustrated even more. “Okay. Sure. Y-you know what, let me just lie andsay that I don’t constantly think about how it could’ve been me, o-or how I don’t usually hope that Jungkook completely fucks it up because I could show you that I’ll never do you wrong in the first place!”

“Friends don’t fucking do that, Yoongi!” you clench your teeth, the devastation on your face apparent yet never equivalent to that of Yoongi who’s already nearing his limit.

“I don’t want to be just your friend!” he whispers at you, because while he thinks about Hwayoung in the living room who’s just a few steps away, he also thinks of how scared he is to admit the fact to your face no matter how high he holds his head.

“I don’t think we can’t be friends either,” you sigh breathlessly, the finality to your tone making Yoongi freeze.

Finally, he lowers his head.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.”

In an overdone skit that plays in Yoongi’s head, somebody pulls out a slate and yells for the scene to be over, because not only did the whole thing play out in just his head, it was also just a silly dream that a married man with a kid could only have.

In a well-rehearsed, trite, and critically acclaimed skit that Yoongi writes himself but could never act in, you never have to be put in a position wherein you have to put a pause to your friendship with Yoongi.

The dependency and entanglement the both of you have with each other, no matter in what degree, only proves to be a double-edged sword that hurts you more than it could ever hurt him, and Yoongi knows he can’t ever live with that.

There needs to be distance between you and Yoongi, and he’s never hated that fact more than now, no matter how much he knows it’s needed.

Yoongi knows he’s an intruder.

He’s an intruder who frequently gets to see you at work, he’s an intruder who always gets to loathe Jungkook no matter from what angle, and he’s an intruder who occasionally gets to hold Hwayoung who isn’t his.

( ♡ )

The truth is, Jungkook didn’t even really think of having kids until you came along. It had been a long withstanding truth in himself, even with Sora before you, that the thought of having someone of his own flesh and blood was too heavy for him — too much.

Jungkook didn’t entertain the thought of having children until you came into his life and he had decided then and there that there’d never be too much of you for him.

You weren’t too much for Jungkook when you were still a new couple and had asked him if he’d be open to marrying you one day, even if you were barely a year into your relationship (and your first one at that) that he was yet to have a full grasp of.

You weren’t too much for him when you had talked his ear off when you were still a rookie, promising him sincerely that you’ll make it big and that soon enough, the both of you would live a comfortable life — provided that you were still in each other’s by that time.

You weren’t too much for the Jungkook of then, your wide-eyed boyfriend who’s a man of few words, and you’re not too much for the Jungkook of now, your husband who feels like he has far too many feelings.

The truth is, Jungkook didn’t even really think that his heart could exist outside of his chest until Hwayoung came along.

There’s this dull, agonizing pain that always squeezes on Jungkook’s chest like clockwork whenever he feels he’s letting his daughter down. There’s bitterness in failure and there’s failure, even when Hwayoung’s tiny hands don’t seek his when they’re walking side by side, or when she’s not as enthusiastic about her meals like how he had been when preparing them–

Or even when Hwayoung mistakes Yoongi for her dad.

“This shirt?” Hwayoung asks, interrupting his inner turmoil as she points to a shirt of his from high school. She has a whole drawer filled with yours and Jungkook’s old clothes for sleep shirts, the giddy smile on her face as she awaits for approval making Jungkook almost forget everything. (Read: almost)

“You can choose any shirt you want, Young-ie,” he answers, his eyes only half-lidded and just a whisper close to stinging with tears. The exhaustion in his voice is practically inseparable from the gutting feeling of his full-time work as a dad for a little more than two years, being mistaken for Yoongi’s part-time favor as a godfather for barely two weeks and then some.

Jungkook’s hands immediately twitch at his sides when Hwayoung walks towards him and stumbles for the slightest second, the brief hiccup on his heart reminding him that he’ll be attuned to her no matter what — even if his daughter mistakes him for a stranger.

He knows the shit that the elders say about letting children fall. He has the script memorized by now and he knows the annoyance that blooms in him routinely when he gets unsolicited advice.

Jungkook knows it all, and he knows that eventually, Hwayoung would get hurt and he won’t be able to do anything about it. Just like how she can hurt him, someway and somehow along the line (maybe she’ll call Yoongi appa again), and how he won’t know what to do with himself should that time come.

Tonight isn’t the time.

“Help, appa.”

“Okay,” he obliges. “I’m here,” Jungkook utters, ironically refusing to call himself the title that he wants Hwayoung to keep only for him; not for Yoongi, not for your manager, and not for the men that constantly pine after you even when they know fully that Jungkook’s in the picture.

Your husband knows greed and he hates it, because it had been in the form of Yoongi briefly smirking when Hwayoung called him appa that time.

Jungkook knows greed and is well-acquainted, because his fist is scuffed and Yoongi’s number is blocked.

He knows greed and whatever indomitable power that puts a brake to his rage right when it’s about to pour over, because he had punched the brick wall in the patio instead of Yoongi to blow off steam, and because he has the mind to not taunt Yoongi with a complete family picture right after you distanced yourself away from him.

“I’m sorry, Young-ie. Mama and I are sorry to put you through that, okay?” he murmurs to her ear like it’s only their little secret for them to hear, the unbridled wonder that lingers in his daughter’s eyes enough to placate him that everything’s okay between them tonight.

( ♡ )

To wake up in the same bed as Jungkook and Hwayoung after so long makes your heart swell.

Your heart swells, not just with pride, but with a feeling you can’t ever put a name to. You’re more than content enough to see Hwayoung cuddled up to Jungkook and the mess of their hair tangled in between, but even more, you’re filled with a strange yearning that you don’t want them to stay that way.

You want more of them in a way that you’re overwhelmed, just by thinking that they’re the closest you could ever have to feeling immortal in this life. Not everything is completely back into place like they once were, but oddly enough, neither you and Jungkook are actively trying to replicate the old times.

“You sure you’ll do the groceries alone this time?” you ask Jungkook for the third time, also receiving his third consecutive playful eye roll as he packs Hwayoung’s bag for you.

“Yes, ma’am. Just go with the princess and look at playschools,” he hums, ruffling your daughter’s hair that you spent a good ten minutes on. “If I come with, I fear I’ll already cry just by thinking Young-ie’s growing up.”

“She is growing-…”

“Can’t hear you!” he hollers as he backs out from the driveway, the smile on his face incomparable because he woke up with the thought that you did.

Jungkook wants more of you and Hwayoung, not because he just wants to return your unspoken sentiment, but because he figures that no amount of time or space will ever be enough if it’s the both of you that hold it.

It’s nice to be back to a somewhat normal routine. With your work finished (and all that is left is for the publicity to ramp up) after having spent so much time on it, you immediately resign yourself to the fixed routine you’ve been dying to get back on.

You’ve almost forgotten just how chaotic a supposedly mundane breakfast could be for a family of three, seeing to it that Jungkook’s packed lunches had grown on you to the point that even having your own plate on the dining table felt weird.

You’ve almost forgotten just how liberating it felt to walk outside with Hwayoung (despite having to put on masks and caps on for animosity) without having to worry how much time you have left before shooting starts again, considering that your daughter doesn’t even regard you for the actress that you are.

Hwayoung pulls your hand and walks ahead of you, and you let her. She’s small and unyielding, even if she pulls you with the equivalent of a mini Jungkook’s strength.

Your daughter walks ahead of you and you don’t mind because you rarely ever get to see her in the sunlight wearing the dresses that Jungkook buys even if there aren’t any sales going on (you’re trying to get him to curb his shopping addiction), as opposed to her being bundled up in pajamas, sitting on your lap in your trailer under studio lights.

Hwayoung has the strength that only a child of yours and Jungkook’s could ever possess, because while you freeze in your tracks upon seeing a familiar face as soon as you open the glass doors to the playschool you were about to scope out, Hwayoung only looks at you and the woman in front with a smile.

“Y/N, is that you?”

“Sora,” you exhale, the surprise probably evident on your face because it takes a solid second for you to register her presence. “Hi.”

Sora’s even prettier in person (not that she was ever ugly in the first place) than the beauty she was on the picture you’ve seen of her and Jungkook, her genuine smile unmistakeable because she looks like light itself.

You get why Jungkook had fallen for her, and while there’s nothing about now to blame him for, you can’t understand either why Sora’s absolutely ecstatic to see her ex-boyfriend’s wife.

“She’s my daughter,” you belatedly add after finally moving on from being starstruck, putting a reassuring hand on Hwayoung’s back (who doesn’t need it anyway because she’s more at ease right now than you are) as you smile. “Say hi, baby.”

Sora gasps in awe, and while you appreciate her politeness in not assuming anything about Hwayoung before you introduced her yourself, the curious, baser part of you wonders if she thinks about you and what she could’ve been–

If Sora thinks about you as much as you do with her whenever she fights with her partner, or if she ever thinks about the lingering insecurity that comes with being a lover in general.

“She’s an absolute sweetheart! She looks so much like you.”

“She does?” you beam, completely surprised at her words. You’re already surprised about Sora in general along with her unexpected enthusiasm, but you’re even more shocked at her sincere interest. “A lot of family and friends say that she looks like Jungkook more.”

“I mean they do say that soulmates will look alike at one point,” she shrugs playfully, head tilting as she waves to Hwayoung while you digest her words.

You didn’t think Jungkook’s past would be this kind no matter how much it had hurt you before.

You feel guilty for having expected a confrontation of some sort, the slight paranoia that had creeped on you before completely dissipating the longer that you look at Sora. She looks at ease and it’s contagious, the soft smile on her face extending up to her eyes when she sees your gaze lingering at the hand on her belly.

“Oh, yeah. I’m expecting,” she announces excitedly, cheerfully, as if you’re childhood friends and go to brunch every Sunday — as if you’re close enough for her to spread her joy with.

“Congrats, Sora,” you grin, extending your hand to gently hold her arm in celebration.

You had insisted again and again to yourself that Sora’s no one to you; that she’s a blip in Jungkook’s radar that lasted for years and came before you. You had let the idea of her consume you fully to the point that her kindness takes you aback.

You can’t blame Sora, and she can’t blame you either. Somewhere along Jungkook’s mosaic he’s made for himself, she lingers in there as a stray piece that fits no matter the pattern. It’s irrevocable and only natural for your husband to be an accumulation of everything and everyone he’s ever loved, and while you know that you and your daughter occupy most of it, you can’t ever erase Sora from existence.

You want to ask who’s the dad with the most inconspicuous tone you could ever possess.

You want to ask her how she’s been and how things went with her partner during the last time that she and Jungkook had celebrated their anniversary as exes.

You want to ask Sora about her cousin and maybe even joke about how chaos must probably run in her bloodline.

You want to ask Sora about hundreds of things and hold her accountable for the sleepless nights she’s costed you and your family, but you hold yourself back — not only because it’s the right thing to do, but because everything had already worked out in the end. Sora’s already in the past and you want her to stay there, even if you have the opportunity to get the answers you’ve only used to pray for.

“For what it’s worth, Y/N, I’m sorry. I know it’s a little too late to say it, but I really am,” she murmurs after some time of only you and her silently watching Hwayoung talk to another kid, the sincerity in her eyes evident even if she holds her head low before you.

The closure you could only ever ask for whenever your heart hurt the most, comes to you when you feel that you’re at your lightest.

( ♡ )

True to your word, you don’t let Jungkook attend your press conference.

There’s no point in denying that you do need Jungkook here with you, but there’s no denying either that needing him and wanting him to be here are two different things.

You’re oddly reminiscent of the time that you had been in this position, and even if the memory’s bittersweet, the rational and realistic part of your brain could only think that it’s reasonable to miss Jungkook despite barring him from here. This is your highest peak after all, and it’s only normal for you to be nervous.

It’s normal for you to be nervous despite telling the staff that you’re going to keep the wedding ring on your finger throughout the entire thing. It’s entirely reasonable for you to be jittery at the possibility of being asked about your family, no matter how far-fetched the queries could be from the actual movie at hand.

It’s only okay for you to feel that trepidation in your stomach even if everything in your life, at the moment, is at your favor.

The room’s quiet with only you and Jimin in it, and without the buffer of Hwayoung that laughs through everything that he says, the one-on-one that you have with your manager reminds you of the talk you had to have when the rumors about you and Yoongi broke out.

Jimin has more years and experiences under his belt now, but with the way he talks to you, it feels as if it’s neither of you are experienced; that the both of you are complete beginners who’d like to think that the only way to go is up, and that a tiny irregularity could instantly make everything you’ve built to collapse.

The talk about Eunsu has been a long time coming, and Jimin wants to let you know now when there’s nobody else — when you’re reminded that you have everything to both gain and lose.

“I’ve managed to put a lid on it for the meantime,” he clears his throat, looking at your reflection in the mirror as he puts on your microphone delicately. “I don’t know for how long though.”

Your gaze looks blank, almost unreadable to the untrained eye, yet Jimin knows that there’s a weight to it. Unlike all the brush-ins you’ve ever had with issues before, this is the first time that it had ever hit home and everything that ever mattered to you.

He could only imagine the weight of what it must feel like to be you; of how heavy it must be to be the one to take everything in stride.

“It’s okay, Jimin. Thank you,” you murmur, looking down on your lap as you try to fight the frown that comes with the realization that you’ve been used to having Hwayoung on it.

“Y/N,” he tuts, his tone stern yet familiar.

“Hmm?” you ask while you’re in a daze, letting yourself stare at a spot on the wall that could only hold your attention for so long. You can’t erase it as much as you can’t avoid this conversation with Jimin, and even more, you can’t avoid the eventual turbulence you’ll be subjecting your family to once everything goes public.

There’s an innate guilt that comes with being a wife and a mother, you figure. It’s your first time being both and with it comes the sense of doom; it’s not the morbid type of ruination, but rather, it’s the anxiousness that comes with knowing you don’t only have yourself to look after.

“What Eunsu did to Jungkook— to your family, even-…”

“I know,” you interrupt, nodding fervently to cut the conversation short, except Jimin doesn’t fold.

“I know you’re protecting them. I know you’re thinking about Hwayoung the most,” Jimin sighs. “But you wanting to protect them also means that you’re protecting Eunsu even if it isn’t your intention,” he murmurs, squeezing your shoulder gently. “The news coming out about her won’t be the worst thing in the world.”

The same two people that you’re protecting, one of them more innocent and clueless than the other yet just as loving, give you complacency amidst your unease.

( ♡ )

You always insisted on having a big bed.

Jungkook remembers your insistence on having a big bed when the two of you moved in together and slowly started furnishing your home before your wedding. Your preferences didn’t exactly clash his because while you mostly took care of the budget and he took care of the aesthetics, there would almost always be common ground. Almost.

Additionally, you also remember Jungkook’s gratefulness for your stubbornness towards having a big bed because realistically, he can’t ever picture himself lying down on a deluxe standard bed with a toddler between the two of you.

The maintenance for the third-biggest variation of a king-sized bed that you had pleaded him for (and even made a whole presentation about defending your case) with Hwayoung in the picture now is even more troublesome. The quest for bedsheets that are hypoallergenic, extremely soft and comfortable, have a neutral, classic, yet easily-maintainable design, and toddler-proof simultaneously seems to be never-ending.

Jungkook can’t sleep at all sometimes. Even when the airconditioning in the room is at a perfect temperature, his comforter is on his person and not on the other side of the bed by your doing, his daughter’s hair isn’t in his mouth, and his cat’s humongous built isn’t blocking his passage of air, there’s days wherein Jungkook can’t put himself to sleep.

In one way or another, it’s always the ache and worry that manifests in his chest for the next day. He keeps wondering about tomorrow’s meals and the probability of Hwayoung throwing a tantrum. He keeps wondering if there’s going to be a wild curveball that somebody will throw at you tomorrow, and how fast he can get to you should that happen.

Jungkook’s no stranger to sleepless nights. He’s used to analyzing one unfavorable context after another to scare himself into being awake so he can’t get nightmares when he eventually goes to sleep.

To wake your husband up just because you couldn’t sleep yourself is a menial task that you finally talk yourself into doing, the little shake that you give Jungkook on his shoulders enough to make him jolt awake.

“Kook, wake up.”

“What, what-…? What is it?” he darts up groggily, eyes barely adjusted to the dim light you’ve set the room to. Jungkook’s lost to why you even woke him up when Hwayoung’s out like a log, but he doesn’t question you on it — instead, he gently carries his daughter to occupy his warm spot on the bed, just so he could crawl his way to the middle to listen to you.

“Jungkook.”

“Hmm,” he hums again, sleepily propping himself up with a pillow as he tries to blink the sleep away from his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t even dare to take a peek at the alarm clock because all he knows is that you’re awake and you also want him to be, so he doesn’t complain.

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

“Let’s fight,” you whisper, leaning your head on Jungkook’s shoulder.

Your husband could only rub his eyes tiredly, the yawn that escapes him making his entire body shake. “Huh? Right now?” he clarifies, the sleepy pout on his lips only highlighting how wide and docile his eyes are for you at the moment.

“Come on. Let’s fight,” you half-heartedly offer, bumping your head to his.

Your husband only stays silent, putting a hand up to your forehead to check for a fever.

Jungkook only yawns once again, his sluggishness being infectious to the point that you suppress your own by burying your face to his neck.

“Can we like, fight in the morning or something?” he tries to compromise, fully serious about a half-baked joke you woke him up for.

Jungkook’s come a long way. He’s no longer your husband who didn’t want to fight you on things for the sake of self-preservation. He’s no longer the one who avoided confrontation in fear of setting you apart from him. He’s this now, so willing to go with your every whim that if you want to have a fight with him at two in the morning, he’ll rub the sleep out of his eyes and let you rest on his shoulder if ever you were being serious.

You kiss your husband on the lips, the love-drunk smile that he gives you afterward making you snort.

Your king-sized bed is a mess. Somewhere by the end of your foot, there’s Hwayoung’s pink crayon that she insists on holding to sleep. Somewhere by the tips of Jungkook’s hair, there’s Miso’s fur kept together with his daughter’s hair clip because she didn’t want to go to sleep without putting it on him.

Jungkook, your husband who’s clad in a shirt of yours with too many holes on it because of his daughter’s safety scissors and his cat’s claws, hugs you to his chest in silence.

You think about how you can’t tell when the news about Eunsu is going to release, while Jungkook sneakily tries to uncover your sock-covered foot with his own because he lost one of his socks while sleeping and wanted to be even.

You think about how the Academy nominees are going to be revealed in a week, while your husband says out loud his grocery list for the week while randomly staring off into space every ten seconds.

You think about Hwayoung attending playschool in a matter of months, while your husband internally plays rock, paper, scissors with himself as he waits for you to gather your thoughts.

You think about you and Jungkook and whatever comes with, for, and between you while he hugs you under the dim lights.

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

“What if it only gets brutal from here on out, Jungkook? What do I do?” you murmur, looking up at him.

“Who says it has to be brutal?” Jungkook laughs, his voice bouncing out into the space as if you’re in a newly-built house with barely any furniture.

Jungkook’s laughter is still joyous and loud, because even if Jungkook’s heart is a newly-built house, his happiness still reverberates the more it settles into the ground and comes closer to its roots; closer to you.

“We’ll keep up.”

#DUNNNNN :O n to get ahead of questions.. yes there WILLLL be a phase 4!!!#jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook series #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook x reader

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jhdyuiee · 2 days ago

Text

ocean-side

·˚ ༘ pairing: dad! jaehyun x mom!reader

·˚ ༘ warnings/tags: fluff, smut!, oral(f receiving), breeding kink (?), kissing/making out, explicit content!, dirty talk, cursing

·˚ ༘ w.c: 4.2k

·˚ ༘ a.n: hi! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? well i apologize for the abrupt break, november was just a lot, both good and bad, but it’s safe to say i’m back! thank u for waiting, i’m truly sorry having been gone for so long :/ . i promise to be back for the remaining days of the year as i’ve got a lot in store, hehe. thank u for ur continued love and support, i’m just so glad to finally be back doing what i love! i love you all & enjoy this one as it was voted by many! <3

“Here’s a good spot,” your husband says, dropping the large bag that slung on his shoulder, onto the sand as he begins looking for the blanket you made sure to pack.

You all the while hold your sleeping 7-month old daughter, Sienna, in your arms. Your husband, Jaehyun gets a hold of the blanket and gets Yejun, your 5-year old son to help him set it up. Jaehyun then proceeds to set up the umbrella, placing it at a perfect angle. Once he finished, you sat down along with your daughter.

“Can I go into the water now!?” Yejun asks excitedly. He’s been dying to get to the beach, into the water. It was a spontaneous trip, thought of by Jaehyun, but you all nonetheless packed your bags to go. There was honestly no better day to go, today the weather was at a perfect temperature.

“Put some sunscreen on first love,” you said to your son as you looked for the sunscreen inside the bag. “Ask your daddy to help you,” you say, giving Jaehyun the sunscreen.

Yejun walks to his dad, allowing him to put sunscreen all over him. And when he finishes he asks again, “Can I go into the water now!?”

This time however Jaehyun answers in your stead, “wait a little more bud, I gotta put some on too since someone’s gotta go with you.”

Yejun pouts, the boy just too impatient. Once Jaehyun finishes he gets up, adjusting the black swimming trunks he had on. He grabs ahold of his son before turning to you and his daughter.

“We’ll be back,” he announces before crouching down to peck both you and his daughter.

“Be safe!” you shout out as he leaves with Yejun in hand.

You watch as they step into the ocean side, going only up to Yejun’s chest height. You take your eyes off them, turning them Sienna who was still in your arms. Surprisingly she was still soundly asleep, however strangely enough just then she started furrowing her brows and trying to open her eyes.

“Oh my goodness,” you say lovingly. She was just so adorable, a perfect blend of you and Jaehyun. While on the other hand, Yejun took after his father both looks and personality.

You peck her cheek, setting her to sit on your lap so that she could also look at her father and dad as they played in the water. They were having the time of their lives by the looks of it, splashing water on each other as Yejun tried swimming away, only for Jaehyun to catch him.

It was then that Sienna started blabbering, sticking her arms out and making grabby hands. You could tell what she wanted, to go join her father and brother.

“We’ll go in a bit baby, let mommy take some pictures first before I forget,” you tell her as you take her in your arms again. Sienna is turned the other way, facing you. You place her down, only for her to start crawling before you capture her and sit her back down. It took a couple more tries since she was so curious but you ultimately managed to snap some pictures of her in her cute little beach outfit.

“Now, let me put some sunscreen on us before we go!” you say tenderly as you grab the sunscreen Jaehyun left on the empty spot where he’d sat.

You make sure your baby is well protected, you too as well, before you head out of the little spot where your family resided. As you head to them, Yejun notices first calling out: “Mommy!”

You smile lovingly at your son whose energy was still at its max. When you arrived, you stood in between the sand and where the waves died. Your husband notices, walking over to you as he pushes the hairs out of his face.

“What’s wrong love?” he asks.

“Nothing, Sienna just seemed to have wanted to join you two,” you informed him.

“Alright, come in,” he says, reaching his hand for you but you don’t take it.

“I- I don’t feel like going in,” you tell him.

“Why, love?”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” you lied.

You had one underneath, one that you’ve never worn before. It was quite small on you though, your post-pregnancy body filling it out. Yeah, you had other swimsuits but those fit even worse since they were quite old. You were left with no other option but this one.

In truth, you were planning to go into the waters with it on but seeing the people near the beach made you rather scared and insecure to take off the long, white sundress on top of it.

“Really?” Jaehyun asks, growing a bit skeptical since you were always on top of things.

“Yeah… must’ve slipped my mind while I was focused on getting Sienna ready,” you said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

“Is that so, I guess you can come in next time,” he says, giving you a dimpled smile as he reaches his arms out so you could hand him Sienna.

“Be extra careful Jae, don’t play too rough with Sienna in there,” you tell your husband, your mother instincts kicking in.

“Don’t worry love, she’s safe with me,” he says before returning back to the ocean where Yejun waited. He seemed to have said something, a wide dimpled smile on his face when he saw his baby sister in the water as well.

You return back to your family’s little spot and sit down. You watched them as they played in the water, Jaehyun carefully and securely carrying his daughter as she hit her hand against the water, splashing her brother. You smile fondly at the scene, feeling as though this was some sweet dream you never want to part from.

As you take your eyes off your family, you reach inside the big bag again, taking out a book you brought along. You read as your family played, and before you knew it the sun was about to set.

You close your book, taking out the towels as you walk back towards them. “Yejun! Jaehyun! Time to start packing up,” you shout at them. Yejun swims his way to you while Jaehyun carries Sienna back.

“Mommy!” Yejun shouts, jumping up and down in front of you. “Yes, my love?” you ask your overly excited 5-year old. “Today was the best day ever!” he continues to say as you dry him off.

“I’m glad you had fun,” you smiled, wrapping him in the towel. When your husband arrived with your baby she made grabby hands so you could take her. You hand your husband his towel and he hands your Sienna. You take the last towel you had and begin drying Sienna off as you all walk back to where your belongings were.

“Want me to take Sienna with me to wash off at the shower heads?” Jaehyun asks. “Yeah, that'd be great, to hold off until we get home.”

Your husband departs with the kids and a small backpack containing a pair of clean clothes for them that you managed to quickly put together. While they were gone you started packing everything up, putting things back into the big bag and folding back up the umbrella and blanket. You took stuff one-by-one back to the car, and by the time you finished they’d also as well.

“Everything packed?” Jaehyun asks, handing you Sienna.

You nod, walking over to where her carseat was while he opened and closed the door for Yejun so he could get into his.

“You didn’t have to do all that love,” Jaehyun says as he walks over to your side while you strapped your daughter in. He places his hands on your waist and pecks your temple.

“I’m hungry,” Yejun interrupts, causing you two to chuckle.

“We'll stop for food before going home, ok Yejun?” Jaehyun says, stepping away from you.

Yejun nods his head happily, and you finish strapping your baby in. Then you and Jaehyun go into your respective seats before driving off for some food.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The front door unlocks, Jaehyun opens it and steps aside to let you and a sleeping Sienna go in. the lights turn on, illuminating your home. You watch as Jaehyun steps in, he too with a sleeping child, Yejun.

“Wake him up so he could clean up with you while I take care of Sienna,” you whispered. Jaehyun nods, trying his best to gently wake up his son who just grumbles, fisting Jaehnyun’s shirt with his small hand.

You on the other hand start heading upstairs to the bathroom in your bedroom as Jaehyun would be using the one connecting Yejun and Sienna room.

You set your baby on the bed while you get everything ready so you could clean her up. It was then when you decided why not go in with her, you’ve had a long day too and a nice bath would solve it.

You took your time, finding the moment spent with your daughter peaceful. And so when you finally finished and dried you two off, putting on her cute bunny pajamas, she fell asleep once more. She must be worn out, you thought.

You carry her back to her room, placing her gently on her crib so she doesn’t wake up. Gently walking, you shut her door softly and walk back to your bedroom. When you arrive you notice Jaehyun sitting on the edge of the bed.

He looks up when he sees you walking in. You walk towards him, stopping in between his legs. He engulfs you in a hug, his head in your chest and your chin resting on the top of his head. It was nothing sexual, it was warm and peaceful.

“I love you,” Jaehyun says, resting his chin on your chest as he tries looking up at you.

“I love you more,” you reply, smiling as you lean down to capture his lips.

The kiss didn’t escalate anywhere further, which was a little shocking since you two could never keep your hands off one another. However today in truth was tiring and long, but a beautiful memory.

And so the night ended in bed, his arms around your waist to bring you close to him. It was warm, a warmth that lulled you to sleep.

Bonus!

You’re folding laundry, it’s an oddly peaceful weekend. Probably considering the fact that your children were with their grandparents for the weekend, off to the Orchards. And Jaehyun was somewhere within the house since today was his day off.

“Hey, love do you kno-” Jaehyun says, walking into the bedroom but something catches his eyes and leaves him speechless.

You widened your eyes as the item you were folding: a bikini top. The very same one you wore that day at the beach. Fuck, you internally curse yourself.

“W- When did you wear that?” he questions.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, alternating between lying to him or telling him the truth.

“T- The day we went to the beach,” you said, your words growing quiet.

He strides towards you, taking it out of your hands and scanning his eyes to find the bottoms. When he found them he took them. You didn’t know why he was doing, much less what was going through his mind.

“Put them on,” he says, handing them over to you.

You eye Jaehyun, focusing on the change in his eyes. They were growing hot. You opened your mouth to talk but nothing came out. Instead you started moving towards the bathroom, not thinking twice before slipping on the bikini. You didn’t look at yourself, fearing you would back out.

As you open the door you see Jaehyun sat on the bed, eyes trained on you. You walk towards him with your arms across your breasts in an attempt to try covering yourself up.

However Jaehyun reaches his arms out to you when you're close enough, taking your hands into his, allowing him to see you clearly now. You could feel your face heat up as his eyes drank you up.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t tell me you were wearing something underneath,” he says, pausing before continuing, “because I would’ve not been able to control myself, with or without the kids.”

You didn’t respond, feeling your mouth unable to open. His hands, his fingers subtly touch your thighs which caused you to slightly flinch. “You’re so cute,” Jaehyun comments as he gets up from where he sat.

He towers over you, hands now on your neck and jaw to tilt you up. Jaehyun leans down slightly so he’s able to capture your lips. It’s a desire-full kiss unlike the sweet one you two shared a couple days ago.

You moaned into the kiss when you felt his tongue begin to play with yours. You could feel when his hand grasped the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper into his mouth. The kiss grew intenser with every passing second, and your mind became hazier too. You could only focus on him and his subtle touches around your body, that you never noticed when he got you on the bed.

“Since the kids are gone, you can be as loud as you want love,” Jaehyun whispers when his lips part from yours.

Your breathing was heavy and you tried regaining it back, however Jaehyun wasn’t done yet. His lips went back onto yours for a couple of minutes longer, before they traveled to your cheek and down to kiss along your jaw. From there they went further down onto your neck where he sucked on the exposed flesh, giving you bites occasionally.

“J- Jaehyun!?” you moaned out loud when you feel his teeth nip your neck before licking that spot right back up.

“What is it, my love?” Jaehyun mutters against your skin as he makes his way to your chest area.

He kisses the valley of your breasts, eyeing you from in between them. You groaned, feeling yourself grow wet from the look he had on his face.

“P- Please,” you pleaded.

“Please, what?” he responded innocently as if he had no clue what you were talking about.

“T- Touch me down there,” you boldly responded, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jaehyun just smirks before tearing his eyes off you. “The night is still young, love and plus there are no kids around to interrupt us. Let me take care of you properly tonight,” he says as he brings his head above one of your tits.

You don’t push it further, thinking that he had a point. You two should enjoy yourselves tonight.

You watched as Jaehyun leaned down to kiss your nipple over the fabric before bringing his tongue into the mix. He swirls his tongue around your bud, teasingly flickering it through the swimsuit material. He gnaws at it, causing you to groan. Then he kisses his way to the other one, doing the same to that one until your top was a sloppy, wet mess of his saliva.

Yet, Jaehyun still didn't remove your top and instead kissed his way further down. His mouth was leaving a blazing trail down your stomach. All thoughts of insecurity are erased from your head when you hear him groan against your stomach. The vibration elicited a pleasuring sensation.

“How about it, love… another one,” he mutters against your stomach where he couldn’t seem to pry his lips out of.

You lift your head slightly, his eyes already meeting yours. “Another child?” you question, sort of confused at his sudden words.

“Yeah, I mean look at Yejun and Sienna, they’re the cutest little children ever. They were made with so much love,” he says, emphasizing the last word.

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” you question, feeling there is a hidden secret.

Jaheyun chuckles against your stomach, “you caught me,” he says. Moving his lips again, to your lower region. He grabs ahold of your legs, resting them on his shoulders. He gives a kiss to your inner thighs before diving into your cunt. He kisses your clit, followed along by your slit.

“You're just so hot pregnant, it’s complicated to put into words but I just feel so many emotions seeing you pregnant. I especially love it when you cling to me, wanting nothing more but for me to stick it inside you.”

Your eyes widen, face growing hot. There was no denying, you were all over him during both your pregnancies. When you had a husband like Jaehyun, who wouldn’t want to pounce on him.

“Cat got your tongue?” he mutters against your cunt, causing you to jerk against his face.

He sticks his tongue out, licking your cunt up through your bikini’s bottoms. He stayed a second or two longer on your clit before dragging his tongue back down. He alternates between pecking, sucking, and licking your cunt. You even unconsciously started grinding against his face, wanting more and more the further he continued.

“G- Give me another child, J-Jaehyun.”

The words left your mouth as you lost yourself in the pleasure. There’s no harm in another one, right? Oh god, just the thought of how he’ll handle you tonight caused you to get more turned on, grinding just a bit faster.

You faintly feel his lips smile before coming to kiss your clit. “I love you,” he says before using his teeth to pull apart the string holding your bottoms. Once untied and removed, he opens your legs again. He could see your wetness as it dripped out of your cunt.

Prying your lips open, he drinks up your wetness before inserting his tongue inside. You arched your back at the sensation, having been a long time since you felt it inside you. He rests it against your gummy walls, using the tip of his tongue to play alongside your walls. His breath, too, created a pleasuring sensation against your clit. You bucked your hips, wanting him deeper.

He thrusts his tongue inside you before taking it out, the loss of sensation causing you to whine. He devours the remnants that seemed to escape, drinking you up and making sure not a single drop goes to waste.

He isn’t done yet though, he spits on your cunt. Then with one of his thumbs, he gathers it at your clit. He doesn’t take his thumb off, continuing to rub your clit as he takes two fingers from his other hand to tease your entrance. He puts them in half way only to pull them back out. Each time leaving you to groan in frustration.

He stops his games, finally thrusting his fingers inside you. You moan out his name as you feel him scissoring them inside you, opening your cunt right up for him. Then deciding it was time to switch things up, he replaced his thumb with his mouth. His mouth engulfing your clit.

You moved your hips, arching your back as you tried to fuck yourself with his fingers inside you. They reached you deep enough to cause you to start pulsing around them. You could feel your high easily coming to you. A high that has been long missed since you gave birth.

He bites on your clit, working his fingers even faster inside you. And as much as he’d like to continue teasing you, edging you, he couldn’t continue his desire any longer. He wanted his cock inside you, to feel you warmly wrap around him.

His pace doesn’t falter, and never does his tongue and mouth on your clit. It was only then when he pressed against a sweet spot and sucked on your clit that you came. You came hard, coating him in your juices. You're breathing, inhaling and exhaling, trying to gather yourself. It was only the beginning and you were already gone.

Jaheyun stayed on your cunt for a while longer, making sure to savor all of you. When there seemed to be none left he got back up on his feet. He’d been crouched down the entire time.

You hazily watched as he removed his sweats, tee, and boxers. His reddened, hardened cock came into full display. It leaked with his pre-cum.

He opens your legs up again, sliding his cock along your cunt so he could coat himself in your juices that continued to flow. While his hands grabbed your legs, holding them bent over your upper body. Your thighs squeezing your breast.

And once he had you in the desired position, he began entering you. His tip stretched you out before everything else did as well. You were being filled, his cock fitting snugly inside you cunt.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You always feel so good,” he continued saying in a sultry tone, leaning down to kiss you while he entered you.

Once it was all in he began thrusting into you while holding your legs against you. You feel him reaching your g-spot with every thrust, he’s deep within you. You feel his balls slapping against your ass with every rough thrust he gives you.

“S- So de- deep! I- I love it,” you moaned out loud, unable to contain your inner thoughts.

“Love what baby?” Jaehyun questions, bringing one leg down so he could angle you slightly. This new angle hits you into another world.

“Y- You! Your co- cock,” you replied rather seductively.

His chuckles erupt into the room, “aren’t you honest… I love it, my sweet wife deserves a reward for her honesty,” he says.

He leaves no room to talk as he slams into you, going at a godly pace. You clenched and pulsed around his cock, almost nearing your second high of the night. Jaehyun gets the message with the way you feel around his cock. So he lifts one leg up, draping it on his shoulder. Using his thumb to rub against your swollen clit, and not much time passing before you met your high.

You gushed around Jaehyun, coasting both his and his cock. He enjoyed the view, it only edged him on to meet his high, to cum in you, impregnant you.

“Take it all, fuck,” he groans as his cock twitches before painting your walls white.

He lets go of your legs, causing them to fall onto the bed. Tears slid down your face, your mouth blabbering random words. Jaehyun pulls out, not done just yet. He swiftly flips you over onto your stomach.

“Lift your ass up for me baby,” he instructs you whilst slapping both ass cheeks roughly, causing you to jerk from the sensation. You wasted to second thoughts, complying to what he asked of you. Using his hands on your hips to drag you a bit back.

You feel his cock as it tries gathering his cum so he could fuck it right back into you. Then in a matter of seconds, he’s in you again.

His fucks you with his hands on your hips, as he brings you back onto his cock. He keeps his eyes open, admiring your body, the body he couldn’t wait to see pregnant. God, just the thought of seeing you all swollen again riled him up all the more. He thrusts into you, grabbing your arms so he could pull them back fuck into you roughly.

Jaehyun lost control, his mind infiltrated with the purpose of getting you pregnant. “Cumming already baby? Got you feeling sensitive, didn’t I,” he says but your mind doesn’t process it. He continues as your cunt tightens around him, you were so close, so so so so close.

Dropping your hands, he works his way down your back to untie your top so he could touch your tits. He gropes them, squeezing them and imagining them leaking with milk again. He pinched your nipple, groaning, just then you came.

You incoherently moaned into the comforter as you came. And just like before Jaehyun didn’t stop, only quicking his pace. Your tight cunt and thoughts of another child were more than enough to get Jaehyun to cum inside you again.

He groans, cumming inside but still maintaining his thrusts, though now slow. He needed to make sure his seeds were fucked well in deep, well in enough to get you pregnant.

Once he felt like his seed was fucked well inside, he parts from you. You laid face down, going in and out of consciousness. It’d been awhile since you two got this wild. And now that it seemed over, Jaehyun’s demeanor changed. The lusting man from before was replaced by a loving husband.

He kisses you softly, scoping you up in his embrace so he could carry you into the shower. He gently cleans you up, his heart melting at your sleeping state. “You’re too precious,” he whispers, followed by an “I love you.”

And so once you two were cleaned and dried off, he carried back onto the bed. He made sure to wrap you up well before hitting the sheets himself. His arm wraps around you, feeling his warmth on your back. The night went by peacefully and beautifully.

However the next morning, right before the kids were set to come, you two went at it again like a pair of rabbits again. Well, at least now it’s safe to say you're going to be welcoming baby number 3, one that was made with excessive love.

2024. 12. 21

final a.n: you've reached the end, yay! a bit behind the scenes on this story, it was written and rewritten more than 5 times before this ended up being the final draft... not very fun (also it was originally named: where happiness lies). nonetheless, i hope u all can enjoy the finalized version, i'll be back veryyyyyyyyy soon ;) . good night (it's 3 am right now >_< )!

197 notes · View notes

love-belle · 1 year ago

Text

tujhe kitna chahne lage !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which the entire world is convinced that they do not like each other but it's actually quite the opposite.

for when they make you go crazy in a good way. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lando norris x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - another desi!reader bc why the fuck not!!!!!! hope you like it, i love you so much <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lilymhe, carmenmmundt, landonorris and 758,427 others

yourusername lando norizz said i sparkled (derogatory)

tagged landonorris

6,829 comments

username NAH MARRY ME RN

username sirf ek chance plzzz (just one chance please)

username MAATE???? ( mother )

username OH MY GOD

username nah im in love what yhe fuxk

carmenmmundt you shine ❤️‍🔥

*liked by yourusername*

username THAT LEHNGA THOUGH

username traditional clothes hit different and that's just facts

username hayeee nazar na lage ( no evil eye )

username SHE ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS

username lando rn: ur a vampire

-> username forgive me in my head that was wayyyyy more funny

username marry me PLEASE

carlossainz55 i'm blinded

-> yourusername STOP MAKING FUN OF MY SEQUINS

-> landonorris only i'm allowed to make fun of her so back off sainz

-> carlossainz55 child i taught you everything you know now

-> landonorris OMG DAD STOP EMBARASSING ME

-> yourusername i'm blocking both of u

username she's so W

username traditions attire 🔛🔝

username i love all the drivers just randomly popping up on her post and leaving after pissing her off like that's MY source of entertainment and serotonin

username mother slays 🔥🔥🔥

mickschumacher your aunt (???) is setting me up with her daughter help

-> yourusername walk AWAY

username not the desi aunties trying to play matchmaker 💀💀💀

username i love her so much omg

username waiting for lando's comments before going on with my day like it's the morning news or something

landonorris you DO sparkle

-> landonorris disco light like looking witch

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-> landonorris WAIT NO

landonorris you sparkle (🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮)

-> yourusername here lewishamilton

-> lewishamilton lando no

-> landonorris I WASN'T EVEN DOING ANYTHING

landonorris imagine wearing silver on silver

-> yourusername you wear dumb on stupid everyday do u see me complaining

-> usernme nah she gagged him

landonorris boo 👎👎👎

-> yourusername ur so obsessed with me ☺️☺️☺️🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️❤️ go on 🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️🙏🙏🙏 log out 💯💯💯❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥😘😘😘

username they make me so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username i want what they have

username just make out already

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 789,514 others

landonorris when y/n managed to *not* burn the kitchen down while boiling water

tagged yourusername

7,826 comments

username lando babe this js proves that you're all sunshine and smiles when it comes to her

username they hate each other???? lol

username nah what in the enemies to lovera shit is this

username HIS SMILE OMG

username sunshine boy

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username nah they're definitely together

charles_leclerc says the one who burned the hello kitten mittens

-> landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT and YOUR hello kitty mittens

-> charles_leclerc LANDO WE AGREED TO KEEP THAT OFF THE INTERNET

-> username me randomly discovering that charles loves hello kitty in the comments of a post about y/n from lando is so wild if u think about it

username hiii im new to f1 can someone please explain who y/n is and why do lando and her hate each other :)

-> username ofc angel <3 she's the daughter of one of the BIGGEST sponsors for f1 and she's like very close with most of the drivers and their partners and attends as many races as she can!!!!

-> username lando and her have had a very *rocky* relationship since the beginning bc the first time they met, lando pushed her into the pool and then she pushed him into a fountain so !!

-> username they're all currently in india atm bc y/n's sister is getting married and it's like the event of the decade!!!!!!!

-> username NO BC THAT FOUNTAIN CLIP WOULD FOREVER BE ICONIC

danielricciardo this is not helpful in beating the crush allegations !

-> landonorris shut the fuck up !

username he's so ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

username not danny ric calling him out

username this comments section is WILD

username they're together idgaf they HAVE to be

username atp they're just playing with us

username no bc lando and y/n are SO iconic like from the moment they met to here like all of their public interactions are so entertaining

-> username one of them is always ready to throw hands with the other one and most of the time it's y/n

-> username nah bc i know my girl is DONE with his shit

yourusername you forgot how to crack an egg.

-> landonorris YOU CRACKED AN EGG ON MY FOREHEAD

-> yourusername HOW IS THAT RELEVANT RIGHT NOW

yourusername *when y/n is actually the love of my life

-> landonorris hahahahahahaha!!!!!!! babe what!!!!!!!!!

-> danielricciardo both of you are so dumb 😭😭😭

-> maxverstappen1 oh my god

-> charles_leclerc what just happened

-> username "babe" SAY WHAT

username im gonna go and walk my fish

-> username i suddenly need to iron air

username they're idiots (affectionate)

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, landonorris and 897,527 others

yourusername tujhe kitna chahne lage ( just how much i love you )

tagged landonorris

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 897,426 others

landonorris she's mean but she buys me chocolate so ❤️

tagged yourusername

9,457 comments

username AHHHSHHSHSHD

username i am not okay

username IM SO

username HER.

username im heartbroken 💔💔💔💔💔💔 both of my parasocial relationships gone just like that

username nah bc she can fuck me up and i would say thank u and sorry for wasting your time

maxverstappen1 she's mean to all of us but she doesn't get us shit

-> yourusername aren't you like a millionaire

-> maxverstappen1 SO ARE YOU

-> yourusername lol i get p and kelly chocolates

-> kellypiquet 🥰

-> maxverstappen1 you're never getting to babysit p ever again

-> yourusername WAIT NO I'M SO SORRY

username they both said fuck soft launch

username ENEMIES TO LOVERS

username apna time aayega ( our time will come )

danielricciardo idk she makes me chai

-> landonorris didn't she almost hit you with a rolling pin because you said "chai tea"

-> yourusername it was honestly so deserved

-> danielricciardo i am TRAUMATIZED

username LOOK!! AT!! THEM!!

username we've come so far oh my god

username y/n posting a couple dumb pictures of lando and a cute one of them together and then disabling the comments while lando posts these MASTERPIECES is so on brand of them

-> username cool gf 🤝 obsessed bf

yourusername i am NOT mean

-> landonorris sure

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-> yourusername blocked

yourusername hey ur kinda pretty

-> landonorris hey you're very pretty

username THESE BITCHES

username i feel like i've entered an alternate dimension

username ngl im gonna miss y/n and lando shit talking each other

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris insta au #lando norris blurb #lando norris fluff

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mustangbby · 10 months ago

Note

same bitch who requested the last wrio pregnancy stuffs but I need more and I'm like kinda in love with your writing so I want to request MOREEEEEEE anyways how he deals with reader third trimester (WRIO DOTING ON U CUS UR SO ROUND AND CUTE AWEEHFUREILFRUEIWHFCIR) anyeyss thanks for listening ily nova

-> third trimester

synopsis -> wriothesley during ur third trimester of pregnancy. self explanatory

a/n -> anon ur my spirit animal i love ur energy (and u 😉) but anyways i could write so much more lmk if anyone wants a part 2

warnings -> pregnancy, lactation and vomiting mentions, besides that pure fluff

w/c -> 1.6k

he doesn’t know how to feel the moment you tell him you’re officially in the third trimester of your pregnancy. it all went by so fast, he thinks it was just yesterday you called him into the bathroom to look at the small test that changed your lives in the greatest way possible.

and now, you were almost finished growing your daughter. anyone who even took a glance your way could certainly tell that you were having a child, and it’s certainly the dukes.

the women of the fortress have been keeping tabs on you and your pregnancy, awaiting the day you walk with your baby in your arms instead of in your stomach. they’re so nice to you, so wriothesley allows you to wander sometimes because of it. they’re always willing to make you comfortable and give you some of the nicest labor-inducing teas they can find.

now, this is around the time he’s likely going to take a work leave, or just not work as often. his job requires his undivided attention, and he has to be flexible and able to be there in case a tragedy, like the seal breaking, were to occur. (hopefully not, because he still thinks about how he’d get you out of the fortress in time. you’re unable to run and you can barely walk at a quick pace, leaving him nervous and clueless a lot, considering your living quarters were connected to a door in his office).

besides that, your life is pretty good, despite how uncomfortable you feel all the time. you ache everywhere, and sleep is simply not a thing that comes by often anymore. so, these are the moments wriothesley is able to step in and make sure that you’re content and as comfortable as you possibly can be.

the main thing he needs to do for you is help you stand, considering that it’s incredibly hard for you now. you can do it of course, but it’s too much effort and you always either stand and immediately sit back down due to how winded you feel, or you just don’t try at all. wriothesleys strength comes into hand in these moments, almost making you fall forward due to how quick he pulls you up (the first time he did it, it actually happened. he caught you in time, but it left you laughing and him just there like “i almost just killed you sweetheart” and worried).

he’s so the type of husband to barely wake up when you scoot yourself out of bed to use the restroom, and him behind you giving you a little boost to get up before going right back to sleep. he’ll try to keep consciousness while you’re out of bed, in case you fall or something happens, but as soon as he sees you re-enter the room he’s out once more.

the only times he genuinely wakes up at night is when you frantically shake/tap him or you’re crying. if you’re crying, he’ll sit up and turn on a light (if you want) and try to ask you what the problem is. if it’s just a cramp or if you’re just achy/not in the right position, he’ll massage you or help you reposition the pillows to ensure your comfort.

and when it comes to you walking up his offices’ stairs? he’s incredibly paranoid about it, but he’ll try to not make it known. you had to tell him multiple times to settle, that the railing was enough to keep you on your balance, and that you were just pregnant, not paralyzed. he’ll still try to meet you down at the door to help you up the stairs, especially when you’re at your biggest point. he’d be anything but calm and composed if you were to take a tumble down them (he would have a heart attack on the spot).

and oh, would that man dote on your belly. you’re just so adorable, how could he not? especially when you’re curled up on the couch in his office with a luxurious sherpa blanket and the roundness of your tummy under the cover is very evident. usually, he won’t be able to help himself and would lay down next to you, his head lightly propped up on your stomach or on the side of your body. on the occasions he falls asleep, you stroke his hair, reading whatever book in his office that has piqued your interest this time.

he’s also a tease. sometimes. he’ll walk past you and gently brush a part of his body against your belly, usually his hip or his hand. but back to the point, he’ll rub it, massage it, hold it up to take off pressure from your back and pelvis, and cuddle it! you’re not gonna be pregnant forever, so he sees this as a chance he can’t waste. only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. if not, then he wont proceed.

this man loves tea, so there's no surprise when he brings in a tea that he’d read induces labor, or at least makes for a smoother one. he honestly probably has so many of those types, presenting you the box and allowing you to choose which one you’d like this time. seeing your eyes sparkle and your fingers wiggle as you choose your tea of choice always makes his heart soar in adoration.

and back on the tea thing, he’s on all of the times said book told you to have it. he’s always giving it to you right on the dot of the hour unless something else more important has taken his attention (which isn’t much, unless he’s in a meeting or something really bad has happened in fontaine/the fortress).

he’s also one of those husbands who secretly makes an important note in his brain whenever you have an ultrasound or any sort of baby appointment coming up. he wouldn’t miss one for the world- even though it's one of the little things, it means a lot to the both of you when he shows up alongside you, and shows the world how devoted of a husband he is to you. cue clorinde in the corner taking care of his work for him during the hour that he’s away.

like i said in my last post, his massages are incredible! usually, he’ll get the memo, and right when he gets home, he’ll set you in between his legs before rubbing the soreness out of your back, hips, shoulders, neck, foot, and calf.

he likes to make those moments last longer, and makes him feel good if you feel good. sometimes he’ll add a little kiss to the top of your foot or along your shoulders when he’s done, making you giggle a little before going on about how he has no need to be so formal (in which he counteracts by saying something cheesy about his love for you to make you laugh once more).

he hates seeing you in pain, and especially hates it when he hears you cry about how exhausted you are. no, not that he hates when you cry, he just hates that you have to do this all alone. obviously, he is there to give all of his support and more, and would carry the baby for you if he could, but he can't. and he knows you’re exhausted, but his issue is that there is nothing for him to do to help you feel at least a little better. he understands that it’ll come when the baby is born, and he’s already told you how for the first few weeks he’ll do anything and everything to care for the baby while you catch up on your hard-earned rest.

another great thing about him is that he pays no mind to things such as lactation, vomiting, etc (i have genuinely seen men who make fun of their wives for things such as that out of their control). he recognizes that its just something that happens, and its normal in pregnancy, and he won't get mad at you if any of these things happen while you’re wearing his clothing, either. considering you dislike maternity clothes, you’ve been wearing his shirts lately, resulting in milk stains in some of them. you’re over here apologizing profusely while he gives you a soft lecture on how he understands that it's not your fault, that it's out of your control. because he also knows for certain that if this was something you could control, you’d choose to not have it happen.

this guy is clingy at night, so when he realizes that cuddling you is kind of out of the options, either due to your absolutely obnoxious, in his words pregnancy pillow, or your belly is in the way, he’s certainly not thrilled. but he finds a way, which is usually just spooning you from behind or bringing your head to his chest. the first time you two did the second method, you felt embarrassed, due to your tummy barely even being able to fit the gap between you and his hip, but as time went on, you just didn’t care anymore, literally laying like half on top of him. not like he cares either. thats what he wanted you to do in the first place.

and in the times your so so clingy, wanting to just lay flat on top of him and forget about everything and just be in the warm, strong embrace of your husband, he’s even more crafty! usually uses the side method once again unless you quite literally find a position that’ll make you as close as you possibly could be to him. sometimes it’s incredibly uncomfortable, but if it makes you happy and safe and content, he won’t fight it. just know that this might be the only time you get to do that very position with him.

overall, mans is a great fucking husband during your pregnancy, always super patient with you and would never shame you for things out of your control. you know he’s so so soft for you and you love him so so so so much.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x reader fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #genshin impact fluff #cw pregnancy

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pha55ed · 4 months ago

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Touch | F1/F2 (kimi bday celly!)

type :: fluff tw/cw :: gn!reader for all, one gendered-term for carlos contains :: kimi!, oscar, carlos request :: heyy! can you do touch by katseye for carlos, oscar and kimi? or choose whatever 2 other drivers u want if you dont feel like writing for these, im mainly requesting for kimi lol. im really excited to read the new stuff, love ur writing 💕 (yes ofcc!! i love carlos and oscar sm <33 and thank you!! ur so sweet :D ) link to kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Getting a crush wasn't on Kimi's 2024 bingo, instead it was on the list of the things that he didn't want. Focussing on racing has been what he's done all his life, he's barely had breaks or time to himself - so how the well would be able to have a girlfriend? He knew logically that a relationship would never work, and yet he couldn't stop the way his heart beat got faster around you.

As you came to the paddock once again, he wanted to scream. It was a internal fight that he could never win. On one hand, he was estatic to have you here to help cheer him on and watch him. It was going to push him 10 times harder to be better, to make sure to impress you. But on another hand, he was screaming because how he was shitting his pants and thinking of every bad outcome possible.

What if he crashes in the first minute and has to retire? What if he loses miserably and doesn't even have an excuse for why he sucked so bad that day? What if a different driver sees you and realizes how cute you are and tries to flirt with you, he's especially worried about Paul or Ollie finding you - he knew those two could pull anyone if they wanted.

He did his best to focus on the race, pulling off P7, not awful but not amazing. And god was he nervous, his hands were sweaty and forehead glossy from nerves. Before he could allow you to see him, he needed to freshen up in some way.

Rushing to his drivers room, trying his best to avoid anyone and everything so he can see you quickly. But when he walks into his drivers room, he's met with you looking at him whilst holding a little bouquet of flowers.

Suddenly his senses were all heightened. He could smell his sweat from his armpits, has he always smelt this bad? He could feel how loose his racing suit was on him, did he look too baggy? His breathing was still raggedy from racing, oh my gosh did his staggered breathing make him seem unfit?

And even worse, why did you look so perfect to him? God he hates this. It was like his entire plan for his future was crumbling all because some stupid person walked in and made his stomach flip. He was stuck there, frozen, staring at you with his mouth slightly open as he does his best to think of anything at all.

You confuse his silence with him not wanting you there, which even he didn't know if he wanted you in there or not. So you hand him the flowers, congratulating him on his placement as you left.

Long story short: he's awful with crushes. You WILL be the death of him.

Oscar Piastri | 81

Being nonchalant is basically his entire brand. That's why so many people freak out when they see him laugh or giggle, he's known as the next "Kimi Raikkonen" for a reason. So, when you begin to come to more races since you're the daughter of one of the head engineers at Mclaren, everyone notices how different Oscar is around you.

He usually just stands there,,, awkwardly,,, as if he's a Sim waiting for a command. But with you, he's suddenly fiddling with everything, doing his best to make sure he looks good. He constantly pushes his hair back, clearing his throat, making sure his shoulders are rolled back, you swear you even saw him MEW whilst you were busy talking...

This crush is noticed by everyone, the engineers, mechanics, lando, and even you. But there's one person who doesn't know: and that's Oscar himself. Somehow, he's fully gaslit himself into believing he's just nervous around you for other reasons.

He only pulls out your chair when you come to the group dinners because he's a gentleman. He keeps fixing his hair around you since it's windy, even if you're talking indoors. He can't stop staring at you because you stick out since you're the only girl in the Mclaren garage,,, even if you're not the only girl,,, there are like 10 other women who work in Mclaren.

But one day, Lando and Oscar are eating breakfast together before their free practice. That's when Lando boldly asks, "So have you made a move yet on (Y/N)?" Oscar replies with no, scoffing at his question as if Lando was asking something stupid. Lando has a small smirk from Oscar's reply. "So, can I shoot my shot?"

Instantly Oscar is confused, obviously no! But he's not sure why he wants to say no to Lando's desire to ask you out. Oscar literally tries to find every single reason as to why he doesn't want Lando to date you, even going as far to think he's possibly gay for Lando. He rules that out quickly though and connects the dots, he can't deny them anymore: he likes you.

From that point on, Oscar is an even bigger mess than he already is around you. He's already nervous, but now you swear you can see the buckets, yes plural, of sweat that he's making from even being in the same room as you. You know he likes you, everyone in the paddock as already told you, even Toto Wolff joined in,,, why is this grown man in some young adult romance...

Please, please, please, just confess your feelings to Oscar. He most likely won't get the guts to even THINK of asking you out for at least 4 months. And then he has to plan how he's gonna ask you out for another 2 months. And then he has to gather the courage to ask you out for another 4 months. And then... you get the point.

Carlos Sainz | 55

Unlike the other two, Carlos is older and more experienced than them. But of course, he's still going to be a tad bit flustered when it comes to you. You're one of the new videographers for Drive to Survive. All videographers were assigned a driver to film, and you got Carlos. Which you were grateful for since he's always super respectful and also very easy to film, since he looks good in every angle.

Carlos usually hated being filmed for Drive to Survive, he thought they were super annoying. But he couldn't bring himself to dislike you, even when you accidentally hit him with your huge camera - he still found you so endearing. He couldn't help but try to shoot his shot at you.

Every time you came to film him, he made sure to drop not-so-subtle hints that he liked you. Like saying, "maybe I should film you, you're much more beautiful" which you obviously reply by saying how handsome Carlos is - which makes him smirk. You fell for his trap of calling him beautiful, but was it really a trap if you've been thinking it from the very first day?

Or how you always have to remind him to look into the camera when speaking, because his dark brown puppy eyes can't help but stare at you instead. Or when you almost trip since the camera gear is so heavy and Carlos catches you, saving you almost $10,000 in damages. Or when you went to the bathroom, leaving your camera on the table only to be met with a camera shoved in your face that was controlled by Carlos, to which he laughed and repeated yet again, "you're stunning".

As you two get to know each other more and more, he becomes much more forward with his flirting. Greeting you with an air-kiss, brushing your hair behind your ears, and even buying you multiple bouquets of flowers. You couldn't help but blush at all of his actions, but you knew you needed to stay professional still to avoid getting fired. Carlos knew that too, he would never want his favorite camera-woman to get fired.

So it's a constant tug of flirting with you and you being bashful in return. It's a painfully long wait till the season end so that Carlos can finally ask you out on a date, since there's no longer a contract forbidding you two.

#f1 #f2 #kimi antonelli #andrea kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #formula 1 #formula 2 #ferrari formula 1 #mclaren formula 1

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1eoness · 2 years ago

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professor!re4r leon fucking u.. i think (or at least wanting to fuck u)

cw content : leon size kink kennedy (jk) | sub-afab-fem-reader and dom!leon kennedy | age gap(ur 22 he's 27), leon masturbating, penetration, slightly weird ooc leon ♡

[to clarify, i am 18. anyone <18 and anyone >18 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni]

authors note bc i love rambling; btw i'm writing this in public at some boba cafe can u believe that lol im literally supposed to be studying but hwatever fuck it leon make me go blaahhhhhh. btw what do i call this? a fic?blurb?drabble? idklmfao by the way i have NO idea on how to write professor x reader shit so im sorrhy if this sucks ass.

synopsis : conflicted and flustered professor!leon kennedy of your local college struggles to improve his class' average because students like you—incompetent, airheaded, spoiled and klutzy— make it difficult for him :(

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you heard the rustling of laptop bags and stationery as leon's students left for that morning lecture. though, they moved slow and drowsy; for leon is sure nowadays this generation can't afford to wake up at 6:00 in the morning to prepare for a 7 a.m. lecture on "deviance and crime control."

especially you.

kennedy is a sharp man. he harps on students even if they get a B on any assignment, but he swears it's on his tough love (to which a lot of students aren't really aware of, just that they know this stoic pretty-face of a man has high standards.)

he is also keen on attendance. something girls like you seem to take lightly. it was absurd, really. most professors don't give a shit, do they?

it would've been fine with leon if you missed lectures even twice a week as long as you emphasized your understanding of his lessons through putting stellar effort on your schoolwork. but the best you've gotten on his class was a B- drawing close to a C+.

so, he needs to have a chat with you. urgently.

"l/n, i need to speak with you." leon spoke, confrontative as his black jeans peered from your right peripheral vision. he stood tall beside the edge of the table where you sat. jesus, was he trying to give you a heart attack? (he always had this habit, he'd just pop out of nowhere. he has silent feet.)

yes, you may have missed his lectures from monday to thursday to go to macedonia with your family: but if leon were given the opportunity for a vacation he would snag it too, right?

you looked up at the young professor, wide-eyed and a bit intimidated. what the hell did you do this time? you closed your laptop, gave leon your full attention. leon has also noticed this about you; you're quick to pay attention but you have the memory span of a dumb rabbit. maybe even the IQ of one too, if leon was rude enough.

so you sat there, hands on your lap as you fiddled with the pleats of your blue plaid skirt. the color makes his heart beat a little—he loves the color blue. and the way it looked on you... wait, no. what the hell was he thinking?

"you couldn't even spare the few minutes to e-mail me that you'd be missing four- four, of my classes in one week." he emphasized with a slate tone, and the way his eyes peered down at you added that he needed your reasoning of the situation. he'd love to hear what you had to say for yourself. "i had to talk to your friend, ashley, for some clarification. even the president's daughter has the dignity to show up to my class with a verbal apology." leon scolded as his fingertips met the pages of your notebook. did you even care about his classes? :(

much to your chagrin, your lips were pressed in sheepish silence. hopeless, even. you didn't even have anything to say for yourself? how pitiable.

you simply can't miss class, that wasn't right! just because you thought you could hide in the shadows amidst leon's collective of 73 students (yes he counts), you aren't out of his eyes. in fact, you stood out to him even if you were just an incompetent scholar.

he sighed at your silence. "fair enough, an apology can't compensate for your lack of presence or decorum." he then placed your paper on the desk, you had gotten a D. you were never a bad student but this was your first D ever! your eyes widened and he caught on even though he could only see the crown of your hair. "surprised? because i'm not." leon uttered flatly while his pale fingers flipped through the papers right in front of you. you even spotted a few contractions— when did you even pass this?!

but you weren't a bad girl to him, no. you were capable of shame and guilt. you looked sideways, unable to meet his eyes and training your vision to the floor. you felt low, disappointing a professor that gave you numerous chances to break out of your awkward shell.

"you're a smart girl, you know that?" he finally sighed softly. he wanted you to look at him, make him another promise that you'll start putting effort in his class. he needed to maintain his class's average or else he'd prove he was an inept professor, and he can't do that when he lets 'students like you' get away with shabby attendance and subpar schoolwork. "i don't just give students chances. but that doesn't make you special." and it was true—he's voluntarily failed 6 of his students before. "you'll do something about this, right?"

"yes, professor kennedy.." you muttered modestly.

"hmm?" he hummed inquisitively as he took your paper back. he was willing to give you a chance. "listen to me. i'll give you the chance to redo your paper. i know when students rush their work and if i see even a hint of redundancy in it—i will take all my chances back. and you are never taking absences from my class. i don't want you entering even a minute late, or leaving a second early. i hope we're clear, l/n."

naturally, you were scared. so you nodded up at him after countless confirmations that you will do you work and that you'll show up to class no matter what. he has to use your word against you, he's sorry but it's for your own good.

once he was satisfied, he gave you a nod and turned his side, dismissing you. after all, leon was a busy man. you're not his only student.

it was when you walked out the building and then 20 minutes away from it that you felt like crying. you hated being scolded by him :( but just when you were about to go through your bag for your handkerchief, you were stuck with an inconvenient realization. you forgot your handkerchief.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

leon just stared at the table where you sat from just now, backpack strap over his shoulders since he was just about to leave. he gripped onto either of them slowly as he stared down at your handkerchief in contemplation.

a twofold baby-blue hankie embedded with a subtle floral print. tentatively, he picks it up with his hand and examines it. for a minute his mind went blank, conflicting between chasing you and just returning it to you or to leave it by the lecture podium for her to retrieve tomorrow (when you hopefully attend his lesson again.)

..but blue was his favorite color.

"damn it." leon, with a barely audible mutter, shoved the handkerchief in his jacket pocket. he felt like the most guilty man in the world, poor boy.

...

leon sighed.

he wasn't celibate.

his hormones were in shambles once he got to his place. perhaps part of it was because he knew he hasn't graded the recent tests yet.

manspreading, tie loose, shirt stuffy and jeans undone while his hair wisped in slightly disheveled directions. cold breaths followed out his pretty mouth.

"nnn..fuck.. uhh-" leon whimpered into the baby blue cloth, laced with your perfume. he felt so guilty, so perverted. he shuddered every time he could see over the edges of the cloth, seeing his cream-leaking tip from previous orgasms spurt teasingly. "ahh- fuuuck, p-please-"

his grunts were high. he was close to crying, staining your pretty handkerchief with guilty-pleasure-ridden tears. spilled milk, it trailed down his pretty shaft as he pumped it over and over. his motive was you— you were just so fucking stupid and had so much naivete, it absolutely vexed him knowing how endearing you were.

until a slip of leon's mouth surprised him, earning a small squeak from him as he accidentally muffled your name in your cloth. "fuck, y/n- a-ahh.. u-uhh..hmfff.." he was frustrated; whining and cumming while his mind stirred with the thought of you and your pretty eyes and the photographic memory of your dumbstricken face.

he gave out a tired whine into the cloth, so, so close to crying his frustrations out. he just wanted to eat you. christ, and he was so hard for you it made his head ache..

he could only watch his girth that pulsed with white. he pried the sweet handkerchief off his lips, breathing roughly and wiping his tears. he felt so, so sorry for you. the color of the cloth looked exactly like the skirt you wore yesterday. and yet to top it off, he (ashamedly) wiped his cum off with your dainty cloth. oh, he's so sorry..

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

he didn't want to come to this point. or maybe he did and god was force-feeding him with culpability (he's atheist). he offered once to tutor you personally. one-on-one, no distractions. and so suddenly, someone's skirt was on his clean carpet floor..

your blouse draped over your shoulder and was pulled above your bra carelessly. he handled you with so much ease, squishing you into position while he tried to slowly push his thick length into your syrupy hole. you bit the knuckle of your thumb, and whimpered timidly that he was too big. but look where you were now.

"fuck- you're so- you feel so good.. shut up and take it all, yeah?.. hmmff-" there leon goes, harping you again. you were so loud but it wasn't even your fault, not when he was pistoning his cock into you and paying no hesitation to his pace. you were simply too sweet for him not to please. "sweetheart, hold onto me.." he mutters.

he was pushing every squeak and cute little wail out of his pathetic student, rutting his tip into that spot. "n-nnghh- aah!~" you were running low on words.

"yeah?- mhmm...ffuck, right here? huh?" the feeling of him thrusting against that spongy part more and more sent your mind further into autopilot. you were past squirming around and pushing him away, you just had to take it.. and take it.. and you were doing so good ♡.

"l-leoonn.. m-mm!- fffeels t-too good-" you babbled, mind stuffy with the pleasurably-shameful feeling of being gorged with your professor's thick girth. he shuddered at the way you uttered his name so adoringly. to leon you were so dirty but so, so cute. he had you puddled into tears beneath him while he fucked into your cute little hole with fervor. he just wanted to stuff you full, make you his, adore you forever.

he whined softly into your shoulder. you kept clenching down on him and it made him impossible to think. his phone was ringing on his bedside but he doesn't even give a shit—if anything he tried to drown it out by thrusting into you faster, to which made him lament into your skin. he even adjusted your hips up impossibly further.

"l-leeonn, n-no..— n-no more, please!!-" you blabbered adorably, voice mumbly and whiny as you clawed at his shoulders or back— you didn't know anymore.

"shhh shh.." he cooed over your cries with a quiet and honeyed voice, planting a soft kiss to where he could reach on your face or head. "i know, i know, it feels so good, hm?.. just let it feel good, baby—ahh, fuck-.. uhh..." he moaned lowly into your shoulder, unable to stop the way he rutted his cock into your creamed-up cunt. you seemed to be enjoying it, so why were you complaining? leon thinks to himself smugly but he knows he can't act on his pride. after all you made him like this—submitting to his carnal urges...

you didn't wanna cum a third time, huh? silly little girl.

leon growled quietly into the crook where your neck and shoulder met. you've never heard that sound from him. he held you down, constraining you, and squished you further into his mattress. a helpless and surprised yelp lolled out your tongue as he went impossibly quicker while he cursed like he was about to break down in tears. leon was mercilessly grinding his cock into all your sensitive spots, not letting your pleas of retort contest him. "fuckfuck- u-uhhh, take it, baby, c'mon... do it f'me, it's gonna feel so good-.. ahh!-"

he couldn't even finish his sentence—just piping his cum in you roughly as if he were proving a point, growling whinily along the way. he even kept fucking you shallowly while you were a dumb, sniffling mess with no sense of self-assertion as you creamed all over his shaft uncontrollably a third time. consecutive and quiet whimpers could be heard from you while you soaked in your overstimulation, needing him desperately to reassure you again through the overbearing pleasure of being pushed past what your cunny can handle.

"poor baby." he muttered to himself breathily as he gave the last of his tired, frustrated thrusts and pulled out of you; giving you the time to breathe while he pats your hair down comfortingly. his fluttering eyes finally closed as his head found refuge in your neck, slightly limp with exhaustion as he huffed cold breaths on the wet patches of your skin.

he pulled his head away after a minute of regaining what's left of his strength. leon looked down at you with subtle puppylike eyes, like he was sorry for ever being so harsh on you; even before he fucked the shit out of you. you quietly took your handkerchief to wipe some sweat off his neck— and his cheeks went a little rosy, remembering what he did to it that day you "lost" it ♡.

seems detergent can't wash something like lust away!

#leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #guys im sorry if my writing is pretty vague idfk lmao #re4remake leon smut #THIS IS SO BAD AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut

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novaursa · 3 months ago

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ahhhh so happy to see ur request are back open!! love ur works so much ! can u do something for reader x aemond and its something like they was married and she was madly in love with him but when he meets alys rivers and he decides to accuse his wife of treason and infidelity which leads to her yk being executed. and everyone (otto, aegon, alicent) knows that the claims are false but doesn’t do anything about it <33 ! thank you in advance bookie

The Dagger's Kiss

- Summary: You loved Aemond since you were children, but what he did to Luke was a sin you could not forgive.

- Paring: baratheon!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

- A/N: I hope this is what you had in mind. 🙂

The storm rages outside, howling winds rattling the ancient stones of Storm’s End. The great hall feels colder than usual, despite the roaring fire that blazes in the hearth. You stand beside Aemond, his presence a steady force amidst the chaos of the weather outside. His hand rests on the pommel of his sword, his face unreadable as he converses with your father, Lord Borros Baratheon.

The tension between them is visible, a silent battle of wills. Your father’s eyes flicker toward you, his jaw tightening before he finally nods.

“The Stormlands are yours, Aemond,” Borros rumbles, his voice as deep and grating as the waves crashing against the cliffs outside. “But I won’t have my daughter dragged into your family’s war.”

Aemond’s gaze shifts to you, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Y/N is my wife, Lord Borros. Her place is by my side, where she has always wanted to be.”

Heat floods your cheeks at his words. It’s true; you’ve loved Aemond since childhood, your affection blossoming over the years as he grew from a serious, studious boy into the fierce warrior who now stands before you. When he proposed marriage, you thought it was a dream, even knowing it was a political move. But he chose you, and that meant something. It meant everything.

“I can speak for myself, Father,” you interject gently, stepping forward. “I stand with my husband, wherever he goes.”

Borros’s face softens, just a fraction, before his expression hardens once more. “Then may the gods protect you both.”

Before Aemond can respond, the heavy doors of the hall swing open with a crash. A drenched figure stumbles inside, his dark hair clinging to his forehead. Prince Lucerys Velaryon, your cousin Rhaenyra’s son. The sight of him is like a knife to the chest. Your heart lurches, remembering the carefree days you shared with his mother, Rhaenyra—your beloved cousin, your dearest friend.

Lucerys’s wide eyes scan the room, settling on you for a brief, heartbreaking moment before darting to Aemond. “I come with a message from my mother, Queen Rhaenyra,” he announces, his voice trembling. “She asks that you, Lord Borros, honor your oath and remember your duty to her.”

Your father’s brow furrows, a scowl darkening his face. “And what of the promises your mother broke when she sent her sons here without offer of marriage, boy?”

You barely register the words, your gaze fixed on Aemond. His eye narrows, a predatory gleam flickering in its depths. You know that look. It’s the one he gets when he’s ready to strike.

“Aemond,” you whisper, reaching out to touch his arm. “Please…”

But he shrugs off your hand gently, his focus unyielding on Lucerys. “I’ll not have bastards and traitors speak to me of oaths.” His voice is calm, but there’s a razor-sharp edge to it that makes your stomach twist. “You owe me an eye, nephew.”

Lucerys’s face pales. “I—I came as a messenger. I don’t want to fight.”

Aemond’s lips curl into a cold smile. “Then you should not have come, Lucerys.”

He turns to leave, and you feel your heart hammering against your ribs. “Aemond, don’t do this!” you plead, but he doesn’t look back. He strides out of the hall, his cloak billowing behind him like a shadow.

The door slams shut, and you’re left standing in the echoing silence. You can barely breathe, your hands trembling as you stare after him. You know what he’s going to do. You can see it in his eyes, the same madness that once took hold of your grandfather Aerion Brightflame. The storm rages on outside, the winds screaming like the dragons of old.

“Father, please!” you beg, turning to Lord Borros, but his face is stony.

“He’s your husband now, girl. His choices are his own.”

You don’t know how long you stand there, the world spinning around you, before the doors are thrown open again. Aemond strides back into the hall, his face flushed with victory, his eye glittering with a savage light. He’s soaked to the bone, his hair plastered to his skull, but he looks more alive than you’ve ever seen him.

“It’s done,” he announces, his voice ringing through the hall. “Prince Lucerys is dead.”

The world tilts beneath you. “No,” you whisper, shaking your head as if denying it could change what’s happened. “Aemond, what have you done?”

He steps closer, reaching for you, but you shrink back, horror clawing at your throat. “He attacked me, Y/N. I had to defend myself.”

You want to believe him, you want to hold on to the image of the boy you loved, the man you married. But the way he speaks, the pride in his voice—it’s not the Aemond you know. This is someone else, someone who has been twisted by hatred and vengeance.

“Rhaenyra… my cousin… Aemond, she will never forgive this,” you say, your voice breaking.

“Let her come,” he snarls, his face contorting with a rage you’ve never seen before. “I’ll deal with her as I dealt with her son.”

You feel the world collapsing around you, everything you’ve known and loved crumbling into ash. This is not what you wanted, not what you dreamed of when you stood beside Aemond, pledging your life to him.

“Y/N, you’re my wife,” he says, his voice softening as he steps closer. He reaches out, cupping your face in his cold, wet hands. “You belong to me, as I belong to you. This is the price of loyalty, of love. You understand that, don’t you?”

You stare up at him, searching his face for some trace of the man you loved. But all you see is a stranger, a monster wearing your husband’s skin.

“I… I don’t know,” you whisper, tears blurring your vision. “I don’t know if I do anymore.”

Aemond’s face darkens, his grip tightening on your chin. “You will,” he says, his voice a low, dangerous promise. “You will, Y/N.”

And in that moment, you realize that you are trapped—trapped by your love, your duty, and the man who stands before you, holding your heart and your fate in his bloodstained hands.

The journey back to King’s Landing is a blur, the days melting into one another as the memory of that night at Storm’s End lingers like a dark cloud. Aemond’s mood grows darker with each passing day, his patience shorter, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation. You try to reach him, to understand the turmoil churning beneath his calm facade, but he shuts you out, his focus consumed by some unseen enemy.

When you finally arrive at the Red Keep, it’s as if the entire city holds its breath. Word of Prince Lucerys’s death has spread, and the reactions are mixed. Some cheer for Aemond’s act of vengeance, while others whisper in dark corners about the reckless cruelty of it. You feel like a ghost, drifting through the familiar halls that once felt like home, but now seem haunted by your own guilt and grief.

In the throne room, Aemond stands tall and proud, his chin lifted as he faces his mother, Alicent, and his grandfather, Otto Hightower. They’re all there—Aegon, lounging on the Iron Throne with a smirk playing on his lips, Helaena watching quietly from the shadows, her eyes distant and unfocused.

“You did well, Aemond,” Otto says, his voice cold and calculating. “This was a necessary step. The Blacks will think twice before challenging our rule.”

Aemond nods, his expression blank. “It had to be done. He was a traitor.”

Alicent steps forward, her face softening as she looks at her son. “You’ve proven your strength, Aemond. But please, be careful. This war… it will tear us all apart.”

Her words hang in the air, and you feel a pang of sympathy for her. She’s a mother caught between love for her children and the brutal realities of power. But then Aegon laughs, a harsh, grating sound that grates on your nerves.

“Oh, Mother, don’t worry so much. Aemond did what needed to be done. The boy was a bastard, and now he’s dead. Simple as that.”

You can’t hold back any longer. “He was a child!” you snap, the words bursting out before you can stop them. “Lucerys was just a boy!”

Aemond’s head snaps around, his eye blazing with fury. “Watch your tongue, wife,” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous. “Do not forget where your loyalties lie.”

Your heart sinks, but you hold your ground, your eyes never leaving his. “My loyalties? I’ve stood by you, Aemond, through everything. But what you did… it wasn’t justice. It was murder.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Alicent’s face pales, and even Otto looks momentarily taken aback. Aegon’s smirk falters, his eyes flicking between you and Aemond with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

Aemond’s expression hardens, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “You know nothing of justice,” he says coldly. “You’ve lived your life in comfort, protected by your father’s name and your family’s power. You have no idea what it means to fight for something.”

You shake your head, tears stinging your eyes. “I fought for you, Aemond. I’ve always fought for you. But I can’t—” Your voice breaks. “I can’t be a part of this anymore.”

You turn and leave the throne room, your heart pounding in your chest. The walls of the Red Keep seem to close in around you as you make your way to the courtyard, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and sorrow. You don’t know where you’re going—just away, anywhere away from this nightmare.

The courtyard is quiet, the stables bustling with activity as the grooms prepare your horse. You’ve made up your mind. You can’t stay here, not with Aemond like this, not with the memory of Lucerys haunting every corner of your thoughts.

“Lady Y/N, your horse is ready,” the stablehand says, his eyes wide with concern as he helps you to the saddle. But before you can mount, a hand grips your arm, yanking you back.

Aemond stands before you, his face a mask of fury. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, his voice shaking with rage.

“I’m leaving, Aemond,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I can’t stay here and watch you destroy yourself.”

“Destroy myself?” He laughs, a harsh, bitter sound. “I’m doing what must be done, Y/N. For our family, for our future. And you would abandon me?”

“I’m not abandoning you!” you cry, your heart breaking at the look in his eye. “I love you, Aemond, but I can’t be a part of this anymore. I can’t watch you become—”

“Become what?” he snarls, his grip tightening painfully on your arm. “What am I becoming, Y/N? Tell me!”

You struggle against his hold, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. “Someone I don’t recognize,” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Someone I can’t follow.”

His face twists with a fury that is almost madness. “You swore to stand by me, to be my wife, my partner. You promised!”

“I know,” you sob, your voice breaking. “But this isn’t what I wanted, Aemond. This isn’t what I thought—”

Before you can finish, you feel a sharp pain in your chest, a burning, searing agony that steals the breath from your lungs. You look down, your eyes widening in horror as you see the hilt of Aemond’s dagger buried in your chest, his hand still gripping it tightly.

The world seems to slow, everything fading to a muted blur. You look up at him, your lips forming his name, but no sound comes out.

Aemond’s face changes, the fury melting into something else—something like fear, or maybe regret. He pulls the dagger free, and you stumble, the ground rushing up to meet you as you fall.

“No, no, no…” His voice is a broken whisper, his hands trembling as he catches you, cradling you against his chest. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t want to…”

The pain is overwhelming, a crushing weight that steals the air from your lungs, the light from your eyes. You can barely see him now, his face blurring into darkness as your world begins to slip away.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice choked with grief. “I love you, Y/N. Please, stay with me.”

But it’s too late. The darkness is pulling you under, your body growing cold and heavy in his arms. You try to hold on, to reach out to him, but your strength is gone, your breath slipping away like the tide.

And then there’s nothing but darkness, the world fading to black as you fall into the void, his voice the last thing you hear, echoing in the silence of your dying mind.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond

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3d-wifey · 1 year ago

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toxic (yandere) baseball player eren and the girl he'd kill for? 👁🫦👁

You Say I'm in Love (I Say You're A Fool)

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x tutor!reader Synopsis: There are many things Eren loves. Word Count: 1.3k Warning: smut, an argument could be made for manipulation, eren is in denial, riding, car sex, overstimulation (reader and eren receiving) A/N: I wrote this in 30 minutes and it shows.

Tag list: @scoven

There are many things Eren loves.

The way his calves burn and lungs heave as he runs from base to base. The resounding cracking noise the bat makes as it hits the baseball. Even the way the infield dirt stains his pants as he slides in to touch the base before a tag out.

But if there's one thing Eren can confidently say he's in love with, it's being between your legs.

It's a known fact that Eren isn't looking for a relationship. He's far too focused on getting scouted. His brother is in the major leagues, after all. So renowned that he has a pitch named after him. It only makes sense that he'd follow in his footsteps.

So, despite the dozens of girls who throw themselves at him and crowd the stands at every game just to get a glimpse of him, he isn't looking for anything serious.

And that fact doesn't change when he starts failing a few classes and his coach makes him take up tutoring with you, his daughter.

It doesn't change the first time he fingers you in his jeep as he drives you to your dorm. It doesn't change whenever he makes you read from a textbook as he eats you out under one of the rickety library tables.

It definitely doesn't change whenever he drags you to the dugout after practice and fucks you so hard that an imprint of the gates is left against your cheek. But you don't mind. His good girl, always so eager to please him.

But when did you become his?

Maybe it was when he warned all his teammates that you were off limits and told them in no uncertain terms that he'd break their fucking fingers they'd have to deal with him if he saw any of them sniffing around you. Or when he didn't see you in the crowd cheering him on at one of his games, and he found himself sending you a few concerned texts.

Ren💚: r u comin?

Ren💚: hello??????

Ren💚: did something happen?

Ren💚: y aren't u answering ur phone???

Ren💚: where the fuck are u?

Ren💚: r u with some1?

Ren💚: I swear to God I'll kill them.

Ren💚: You have till the second inning to be in the stands before I come to you.

Turns out you just overslept with your phone on silent.

Regardless, it's becoming a problem. He can't even get off to porn unless the girl looks like you and even that stops working after a while. Sleeping with anyone else is out of the question. So maybe he has to resort to scrolling through your Instagram when he finds himself in need of inspiration.

Eren's room is pitch black other than the bright light from his phone reflecting off his bare chest. His left-hand holds his phone as he scrolls your page from a burner account while his right hand palms his dick through his sweat pants.

His breath hitches as he stumbles upon the perfect post. It's from last summer when you and your family went to the beach. You were clad in a baby blue bathing suit with little white clouds. He's quick to push his sweatpants down his thighs and take himself in hand.

You had just gotten out of the ocean when you had someone take the photo for you. His pace speeds up as his eyes trace the salty drops of water that dripped down your skin, dipping between your cleavage and between your thighs. He imagines what it would be like to fuck you in that cute, little swimsuit, pushing the crotch of your bottoms aside to go down on you and his hips buck into his hand.

He swipes to the next picture of the set, you on your hands and knees, presumably, playing in the sand as you smile up at the camera, and Eren feels his orgasm ripping through him.

All things considered, his problem with you could be worse.

At least that's what he thinks until he realizes you're eager to please everyone, not just him. Always happy to help, always jumping at the opportunity to be praised, and under normal circumstances, maybe Eren would find it cute or funny, but now it's just fucking annoying.

The team is up for an away game against their rivals and your schedule has finally opened up enough to hang out with Eren after his game. Both of you had been pretty busy, you with midterms and him with practice. He'd never admit this to anyone but you even with a gun to his head, but he's been missing you more than he's missed anything in his entire life. So when you tell him you have to cancel because Jean apparently told your dad he needed some tutoring, he's rightfully pissed off.

Not at you, of course. You're practically in tears when you tell him. It's obvious you don't want to do this, which only fuels his anger.

That piece of shit. Jean is the last fucking person to need help with his homework. Hell, he graduated salutatorian in high school—second only to Armin.

This isn't about grades. He's doing this shit to get under his skin. Is he really this desperate for Eren's sloppy seconds?

He can't stop you from going, but he can send you off with a message.

He has fifteen minutes before he needs to be in the locker room, but you showed up wearing one of his old jerseys and he's already half-hard at the idea of you being in the stands cheering him on with 'Jaeger' printed on your back in big, bold, white letters. Making it known to everyone who you belong to.

And Jean overstepping his bounds pisses him the fuck off. Two birds, one stone. Besides, he doesn't need to be there when the team goes over the play, he's the one who made it.

His pants are pulled down to his thighs and you're bare from the waist down, wearing nothing but his jersey. He grips your hips tight, fucking little gasps out of you. One of your hands claps his shoulder while the other holds the car handle for dear life. Your cheeks are wet, almost as wet as you've made his lap.

He's overstimulated you both, a ring of white, frothy cum grows at the base of his shaft with each downward swing of your hips. That painful pleasure tightens his balls every time your sensitive walls spasm around his equally sensitive cock.

"E-Eren, I—fuck, fuck, fuck, ahhh—” You cut yourself off with a moan that slithers around his spine, pushing him to go faster, harder, deeper. This position is perfect, you're practically boneless over him as the head of his dick punches your g-spot.

"One more, baby. Just, hah, give me one more." And you nod your head from where you're crying into his neck. You leave his skin wet with tears and spit as you bite at him to muffle yourself. He doesn't have the heart to tell you each twinging bite is only making him harder, the grind of your canines that'll surely leave blotches and maybe even thin pricks of blood only makes him feel like he could fuck you for hours—days even! It feels too good, your pussy is too good to leave alone. A fact that Jean will never know.

"Mhm, okay, Ren." Despite your fatigue, your hips shift towards him, rutting your clit against his happy trail like you can't help yourself. "One more. One, uh, uh, uh, more for you." You agree, pulling his hair out of its messy bun in your haze. His good girl, not even thinking about the fact that he asked for one more the last three times, you're too full of his dick to think for yourself now. He would have cooed at you if it weren't for the tears blurring his own vision, toes curling in his shoes. By the time he finishes, you'll be full of his cum too. The game be damned.

After all, Eren Jaeger isn't known for his impulse control.

#3d wifey answers #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren jeager #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger #aot smut #aot eren #attack on titan smut #attack on titan

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foxcantswim · 1 year ago

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i’ve just been thinking about this scenario…

maybe where instead of vanessa reader steps in and takes the stab?

you can put where they get into a coma or they die..

thank u !!

also i love ur work.

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Not Your Fault]

(gif by me)

It was supposed to be Vanessa getting stabbed by Afton. Not you... (aka you stop Afton from hurting Vanessa, but it backfires on you in the process) Content: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-relationship, one-sided love confession(?) Warnings: Blood, Stabbing(Reader), Trauma ig??? WC: 1,038 (sorry it's so short! maybe a part 2? not sure yet!)

Thank you anon <3 Love you~ Hope this is okay! (Left it slightly open ended to keep you on your toes)

PART 2

Vanessa stepped forwards, reaching to grab her father's arm. Your heart raced as you watched the interaction between the two, you noticed how Afton's hand was shaking as it tightened around the handle of the knife. His arm reared back, ready to attack. That's when you quickly reached to grab his arm, pulling him away from the blonde.

Your breath caught in your throat as the sharp hot pain rushed through your entire body. You glanced down to see the knife firmly embedded into your stomach, Afton's hand firmly gripping the handle of the blade. His other hand harshly gripped your shoulder, his glare was cold as he stared into your eyes.

"Y/N..." Vanessa's voice was barely even a whisper, tears flooding her eyes as she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. Her father was about to hurt her, and you had taken the blow instead. Her whole body shook in fear and worry.

You expected to hit the cold hard floor, but a warmth soon surrounded you. Vanessa helped you to the floor, with you in her lap. She looked up briefly towards her father who had no emotion on his face, his eyes drifted towards the blood covered blade in his hand. He then turned to face towards Abby and the animatronics.

"H-Hey, hey," her voice was shaky as she looked over your whole body with panic, "Keep those eyes open for me, okay?"

She wasted no time in taking her sweater off, quickly pressing it down onto the wound. You tried to reach towards it as the pain increased, but your arm simply fell back weakly. You felt your breathing become shallow, you tried your hardest to keep your eyes open but they refused - flickering closed every so often.

"Y/N, please," Vanessa said, trying to hold back her sobs as she pressed harshly onto your wound to try and stop the bleeding the best she could. She did whatever she could to wrap the sweater around you and tighten it, "Why did you do that?!" she exclaimed, her hand coming up to hold your face. She didn't blame you, no. She blamed herself for getting you into this, "I'm so sorry, baby, I'm sorry," she choked on a sob as she leaned down to rest her forehead against yours.

You wanted to open your mouth to tell her it's not her fault, but of course your body refused. You felt your fingers go cold as you did your best to lean into Vanessa more, searching for any bit of warmth from her.

"I've got you," she promised, still shaking as she held you.

That's when William's voice pierced her ears, "Vanessa!" he exclaimed, "Get these stupid things away from me. NOW."

That's when Vanessa realised what was happening. Abby was glaring at her father as the animatronics walked towards him. They were finally seeing him for who he really was.

"Vanessa," his voice was strong, "You will listen to me."

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she looked at him, his gaze was cold. She gulped harshly before simply closing her eyes and turning her head away. Her name left his mouth once again, but she didn't react.

He had intended on her hurting Abby. He had intended on hurting his own daughter, too. And he had actually hurt you. There was no way she was listening to him anymore. She wouldn't let him hurt anyone ever again. He was a monster. But he was still her father, and she couldn't stop herself from loving him. She refused to look at the gruesome fate he was about to receive. She kept on telling herself that it was for the best.

Her eyes finally opened to look back down at you. That was when she realised that your eyes were finally closed, your body limp against hers.

She hugged your body close, tears staining your shirt as she buried her face into your neck, "Come on, Y/N. I love you. Come on. W-We haven't had enough time together," she couldn't stop herself from pressing a kiss to your forehead. Her heart hammered in her chest at the fear of losing you.

She had known you for quite a while now, when you had started to work the night shift almost a year ago. Truthfully, she didn't like you when she first met you. She thought you were just trouble. But after a few weeks she had fallen for you, hard. The two of you weren't really sure what you two were relationship wise. Sure you had kissed a couple times and been extremely intimate, but there were never any labels or confessions of love or anything like that.

Vanessa already started to have so many regrets as she held you as tightly as she could.

Eventually, the animatronics had dragged her father away. The room around her started to crumble and shatter, lights falling from the the ceiling. She was about to sit here with you until the very end, she couldn't leave you and her body refused to move on its own. That was when Mike appeared by her side, helping her up with you in the process. He quickly offered to carry you in his arms, Vanessa could hardly see through the tears in her eyes as she helped him walk. Abby was quickly on their heels.

Everyone made their way out of the pizzeria, moving as quickly as they could into the parking lot.

Mike and Vanessa put you into the back of Vanessa's patrol car. She climbed into the backseat, Abby sat in the passenger seat in silence. Mike quickly got into the driver's seat and started up the car.

"Mike-" Vanessa said, her voice getting cut off by her own sob. She continued to hold you close in the confined space of the back of the car.

"It will be okay," he reassured, his own voice slightly shaky, "She's breathing, Vanessa. She'll be fine."

He didn't trust his own words. But all they could do was be hopeful.

She had a shirt on under that sweater you freaks ;)

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp ; @emiliaisdead

PART 2

#fnaf movie #vanessa shelly #fnaf #vanessa shelly x reader #vanessa monroe #fnaf vanessa #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #william afton #spring bonnie #fnaf fanfic

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venusbby · 2 years ago

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haiii idk if ur doing rq but-

can u pls do bllk bois with their kids and wife🙏maybe them attending a game or going out and the public/media recognises them or something and blah blah blah they become the talk of the town cuz of their resemblance or something like that🤷‍♀️idk just a suggestion, it's entirely up to u. i just want some fluffy family moments😭

do whoever u want and can, and it's a-okay if u can't or don't wanna do it😭👍

p.s if u end up doing it can u pls give the kids names🥹

ok i'll stfu now🫶

family time !!

🍂 characters/pairings: itoshi sae, mikage reo, itoshi rin x reader (seperate ofc)

🍂 warnings: ages of the kids are not specified (sorry idk how kids work sorry), nicknames like "ma" and "mommy" and "mom" used for reader, sae is the best hubby ever, reo is spoiling his daughter left and right, rin almost curses (almost!!), mention of paparazzi in rin's part, reader tears up a little at the end of rin's part (not angst, don't worry)

🍁 note: here u go anon!!!! im so so so sorry for making you wait for so long. your idea was adorable!!! i hope this makes up for it <3333 thank you for requesting. also i don't know the first thing about kids. like i genuinely don't know what 7 year olds are like. its so funny. pls help anyways enjoy

🍁 what would it be like to have a family with.... ITOSHI SAE?

"kenji, let's stay quiet."

"but... why? it's morning."

"because your mom is sleeping, and we shouldn't disturb others when they're sleeping."

oh, how difficult it was to keep your lips pressed in a straight line and keep your breath steady— when you could clearly feel two pairs of eyes on your sleeping form. sleeping on your side while facing these two was such a challenge.

sae's voice was incredibly low as he spoke to your son, words coming out raspy from how hard he tried to avoid waking you up. the constant shuffling of your son in the middle of the bed made your hands itch with the urge to ruffle his hair, even when your eyes were closed.

you felt another shift, this time a gentle finger pushing away a strand of your hair behind your ear. you'd recognise the touch anywhere, anyhow.

"ma is really pretty." you heard kenji mumble quietly. (that too at the softest volume ever, because he listens to his father and definitely wouldn't want to interrupt your sleep.)

"she is very pretty," sae sighed, staring at your relaxed face, eyes trailing from your eyelashes to your slightly parted lips as you breathed out. "she works hard for us every day, you know?"

your eyes slightly shifted once he said that, and you hoped he didn't notice.

you heard kenji whisper to his dad. "she's not really sleeping, is she?"

he whispered back to him. "nope, we will just wait until she gives up."

you fluttered your eyes open right after. your son giggled loudly and flung himself in your embrace, dragging the sheets underneath his body along with him. sae usually made the bed afterwards, anyway. "i knew it!"

"good morning, ken." you softly kissed the top of his head, flattening down the wild strands of red hair that became messy due to his weird sleeping positions. while your son gave you a very cheerful 'good morning' back, your gaze shifted towards your husband, who was already staring at you with his lips pressed in a line which almost looked like a small smile. "good morning, sae."

"good morning. we are too smart to fall for your tricks, just so you know." sae took your hand, pressing his lips against your soft skin. "did you sleep well?"

you nodded with a sleepy smile on your face. kenji whipped up his head from your chest to look as well, and he smiled too when he realised that you had gotten the rest you deserved after your long family trip yesterday.

sae calmly shifted out of the bed. he stretched, muscles still sore from how long he had to drive the previous day. he looked back at the cute sight of the two most important people in his life, eyes softening. "hey, ken. why don't you help me cook something for ma? you know what she likes for breakfast."

"i know, let's go!"

you watched sae quietly leave the bedroom with your excited son running after him, right on his footsteps, your heart swelling with love and your face bright with a smile.

for you, this is the best way to wake up.

🍁 what would it be like to have a family with... MIKAGE REO?

"baby, are you ready yet?" reo asked.

"almost! are you both already done?"

once you wore your earrings, you swiftly turned to look at reo standing in the bedroom's doorway along with your daughter.

as expected, they were completely ready, with reo in his casual (yet obviously expensive) clothes, your lovely daughter wearing a dress which reached below her knees.

a dress that you certainly don't remember buying for her.

your eyes shifted towards the culprit.

"sora, baby, who got you this dress?" your voice was soft, yet your eyes still stayed on the male who didn't show an ounce of guilt on his pretty face.

she noticed your behaviour and sheepishly pointed to her father, her giggles barely contained.

"okay, i did.. just an hour ago." reo admitted, then looked down at sora, a pout on his face. "you promised you wouldn't say anything!"

she shook her head, running towards you. with heels on, you felt so much taller, and your little kid felt so much tinier. you lifted your hand up for a high five, which was returned by sora immediately. "that's my girl."

reo's pout deepened. he walked towards you too. "hey, i deserve a high five too, sora. didn't i play with you while your mommy was busy getting ready?"

you rolled your eyes playfully, making sure your daughter didn't see. she was in her mimicking age at the moment, you would regret it if she rolled her eyes at any and everything you or your husband said.

reo leaned in for a quick kiss that you granted him, "you look beautiful. both of you do."

"you don't look too bad yourself," you mumbled, sending him a wink, which made his heartbeat speed up. even after all these years.

reo snapped his fingers as you all left the bedroom, gaining the attention of your daughter who was focused on fiddling with the material of your jeans. he asked her in hopes that she'd remember, "what are we going to do today?"

"the ball game!"

"it's... it's called football." reo chuckled at her cuteness, letting her tiny hand slip into his as he bent down slightly to carefully walk down the stairs with her. you followed after them, making sure to check that all the lights on the top floor were off before making it downstairs.

"yeah, football! you play that, right?"

"yes, i do! my sora is so smart!"

you smiled unknowingly behind them, noticing your husband's wide grin. you knew how much it meant to him when your daughter showed interest in football. although he wanted her to decide her own likes and dislikes, he wasn't going to let her inherit a company if she didn't want to— and yes, those thoughts are pretty early on since she's still a toddler, but you know that your husband overthinks. he just wants her to like football so she can have a hobby that she likes.

reo and sora continued to walk outside hand in hand, towards the parking lot.

you called out to your husband while checking the house once more, mentally going through the things you carried in your purse just in case you missed anything. "reo, you better not let her choose one of the cars by saying eenie meenie minie mo or else—"

"too late, our ride has already been chosen!" your husband yelled happily from outside, his laugh echoing loudly as you came outside to find your daughter already seated in her favorite car of the day.

"you are so in trouble," you shook your head as you made your way to the car together. your husband shrugged, "let her have some fun, babe. and i'm absolutely fine with being in trouble." he gave you one of those smiles, earning another eyeroll.

🍁 what would it be like to have a family with... ITOSHI RIN?

"why can't they just leave us the fu- leave us alone when we're with 'kio?" rin huffed, setting down his car keys on the coffee table as you entered the house. your son was already running up the stairs and into your shared bedroom to play with his toys while you and your husband lingered behind him.

"it's alright, rin. calm down." you spoke softly, patting him on the back as you went into the kitchen for a glass of water. he followed. "i just don't get it. we deserve privacy too."

"they weren't bothering us, you know that."

"...i know." he sighed.

"in fact, i just saw an article on the way home. people are going crazy because akio has your eyes, it's so funny." you tried to lighten the mood, succeeding when rin leaned in to look at the article on your phone that you showed him.

he sighed once again, eyeing the picture of the both of you walking on the street with your son in the middle, who had an excited smile on his face while he was looking at you. "he really does have my eyes. and your hair."

you hummed and caressed rin's cheek, soothing him with your quiet voice. "it's no big deal, baby. we can handle the paparazzi."

just then, your son was rushing down the stairs again, blooming with energy from the wonderful lunch you guys had half an hour ago. "i wanna go out again!"

you watched as rin made his way over to akio, seeing him bend down to come eye to eye with the child.

rin observed akio's eyes, finding the resemblance that the public was talking about. a feeling of pride took over his heart. he ruffled the boy's hair. "we will go out again tomorrow. wanna play in the pool for now?"

"only if mom comes too!!"

rin turned his head to look at you, raising his eyebrows in question. he smiled slightly when you nodded and walked towards them.

"of course i'll come! i just need to change. why don't you and your dad go ahead?" you cooed, admiring the two sets of teal eyes that stared at you with admiration and love, akio's being much rounder and bigger than rin's. your husband hummed in agreement.

"let's go, 'kio. i'll give you your favourite floatie."

your son followed after rin as they made their way towards the pool in the backyard, rin sliding the huge glass doors aside to let more of the warm sunlight in.

you knew the pool would calm both of the boys down. it had been a long time since you enjoyed some sun as well. you grinned to yourself as you made your way upstairs to change into some swimming-appropriate clothes, making sure to take some time in order to let akio have some son and father bonding time with his dad.

they were so identical. it was as if a piece of rin was present in akio, and a piece of akio was present in rin. both of them reminded you of each other.

once you came back downstairs, you quietly sneaked a glance towards the boys outside, hearing their muffled voices.

"oh, so you want to play like this?" rin said. the grin on his face made your eyes sting ever so slightly. he splashed some water towards your laughing son who waved his hands around to protect himself from the water.

this is exactly how you imagined rin to be a few years ago, and even though he didn't believe in himself much as a soon-to-be father that time— you knew he had found his safe place now.

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