#he loves her but can’t forgive her for leaving his brothers and wants to be held like he was as a child but feels too grown

[spicy-suns]

20 years alone will do something to your memories

(ft brozones mom)

[maxtermind]

please i'm begging you (please don't feel pressured if your life is busy 💕) we need pt 2 to the angst i can't handle this 😭 my heart 💔 the writing is too good that i'm feeling things 😓

was i stupid to love you?

★ : summary :: when he downplays your feelings ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst; hurt/comfort ★ : word count :: 4.6k ★ : a/n :: open ending, don't forget to vote after so i can get a bit of feedback :3 kinda rushed so might contain lots of typos sorryyyy!!

( part 1 )

Charles Leclerc

The house party buzzed with music and laughter, a cacophony that drowned your thoughts as you stormed through the crowded rooms. Your heart raced with a mix of anger and hurt, knowing Charles was right on your tail, determined to catch you before you could reach Arthur.

Your boyfriend’s hand wrapped around yours just as his brother turned around to look at you guys. You stomped your feet as you shook your head to dismiss Arthur and follow your boyfriend who quietly kissed your head in gratitude before you could step away.

”What is going on with you?!” Your voice trembled with barely contained fury as you confronted Charles in a quieter corner.

Charles sighed, his brow furrowing in frustration. ”I don’t know, baby. I’m so sorry—”

”You told me off when you should know that I’m right!” Your voice rose involuntarily. ”She fucking leaned in thinking that you were gonna choose her.”

”Y/N, please listen to me,” Charles said earnestly, stepping closer to you. ”I messed up. I know. But I would, never in a hundred years, choose anyone let alone her over you.”

You looked into Charles' eyes, seeing the sincerity and pain reflected in them. Your anger began to melt, replaced by a swirl of conflicting emotions.

”You’re just saying what I want to hear and I don't like it,” you said, your voice softer now, searching for clarity.

”It’s the truth,” Charles declared, his voice tinged with regret. ”I know I’ve hurt you baby and I'm sorry for that but I can’t— I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I watched you leave with my brother. Let me drop you home, okay?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, frustration and hurt mixing with the love you still felt for him. Charles gently took your hands in his, his touch warm and comforting.

”Y/N, please,” Charles pleaded, his voice raw with emotion. ”I never want to make you feel like you need to run away from me. I want to talk this out, please give me a chance to make things right.”

You hesitated, feeling torn between wanting to forgive him and the pain of betrayal still fresh in your heart.

”Okay,” you finally whispered, feeling emotionally drained. ”Let's go.”

Charles nodded, relief washing over his face. He led you out of the noisy party, his grip on your hand tight and reassuring. The cool night air outside provided a stark contrast to the heated emotions inside.

As Charles drove you home, neither of you spoke. The silence was filled with unspoken words and the weight of what had just transpired. But Charles kept stealing glances at you, his eyes full of regret and love.

When you arrived at your shared apartment, Charles parked the car but made no move to get out. He turned to you, his expression soft and vulnerable.

”I'll leave if you want me to,” Charles said quietly, his voice tinged with sorrow. ”But please, Y/N, give us a chance to talk tomorrow. I'll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the love that still lingered despite everything. Tears fell down your cheeks as you nodded slowly.

”I need time,” you admitted softly, your voice barely audible. ”Time to sort through this.”

Charles nodded understandingly, reaching out to gently wipe away your tears. ”Take all the time you need,” he said softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. ”I'll be here, whenever you're ready.”

”Where will you go?” You asked, not wanting to leave just yet.

”To your brother’s house,” he joked and smiled cheekily when you let out a small laugh.

”I love you,” Charles continued and seemed satisfied when you saw your tinted cheeks, giving into the temptation to kiss your hand. ”I’ll stay at Arthur's for the night.”

With that, you stepped out of the car, your heart heavy with conflicting emotions. You watched Charles drive away, feeling the distance between you both but knowing that perhaps, with time, you could find a way back to each other.

Lando Norris

You sat in the break room at work, your lunch untouched in front of you. The memories of last night’s events still stung, the image of her hand on Lando’s thigh and the lipstick on his collar replaying in your mind.

Just as you were about to take a sip of water, the door swung open, and there he was, your— ex? —boyfriend, looking desperate and determined. You knew there was a possibility he’d try to catch you at work given that you’d taken away all other means.

”Y/N, can I please?” he said, his voice pleading as he pointed towards the hallway.

You nodded reluctantly and led him to an empty hall, away from prying eyes. The silence was deafening as you stood there, waiting for him to speak.

You nodded reluctantly and led him to an empty conference room, away from prying eyes. The silence was deafening as you stood there, waiting for him to speak.

”Y/N, please,” he started, his voice trembling slightly. ”I’m so sorry about last night.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the table. ”Bet you had a good time, huh?”

”No, I didn't,” Lando said in disbelief before he took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. ”Nothing that happened there was intentional. We were all drinking, and she... she got too close. I should have pushed her away. I’m sorry.”

You scoffed, anger bubbling up again, finally fired up enough to speak your mind. ”Her hand was on your fucking thigh, Lando. And your collar— her lipstick was all over it. How do you explain that?”

He winced, clearly pained by the memory. ”I know it looks bad, but it wasn’t what it seemed. She leaned in close to talk to me, and I didn’t realize she had left a mark. It was a— just a stupid mistake, and I should have been more aware.”

”More aware?” you echoed, your voice rising. ”You should have cared about how it would make me feel! Instead, you shrugged it off like it was nothing.”

”I didn’t mean to shrug it off,” he said, stepping closer. ”I was wrong. I should have reassured you, should have shown you that you’re the only one that matters to me. Baby, please just let me—”

You looked away, the pain still fresh. ”It’s not just about the lipstick or her hand. It’s about how you made me feel like I was overreacting, like my feelings didn’t matter.”

”They do matter,” he said, his voice breaking. ”More than anything. I was an idiot. I should have pushed her away immediately. I should have come to you and told you everything before you saw it for yourself.”

”You know I only want you,” he added softly, his eyes pleading with you.

You shook your head, trying to hold back tears. ”That’s the thing, Lando. I don’t know that. I actually believe that y— you don’t at all.”

Lando’s eyes filled with tears as a broken whisper of your name left his mouth. ”I h.. have never, I never will. Ever.” He stressed. ”Want anyone— need anyone the way I want you.”

You kept quiet as you looked at him trying to catch himself. Lending him your hand that he squeezed in return.

”I can’t believe you would ever believe that but I understand and, I promise… I’ll be more mindful, more respectful. I’ll make sure everyone knows I’m taken, that I’m yours. Please, give me a chance to make it right.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and you let out a slow breath, trying to not have a breakdown at your workplace. ”It’s going to take time, Lando. Trust isn’t rebuilt overnight.”

”I know,” he said, relief washing over his features. ”And I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I’ll prove to you that I’m worthy of your trust.”

”Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. ”I’ll give it a thought, Lando. But if you hurt me again, we’re done.”

”I understand,” he said, his voice filled with determination. ”Thank you, Y/N. I won’t let you down.”

Max Verstappen

The streets were bustling with late-night revelers, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you. The restaurant's neon sign flickered as you stepped out into the cool night air, your phone clenched tightly in your hand.

Three hours. You had waited for three hours, hoping Max would show up for your anniversary dinner, only to find out from the story of your mutual friend that he was out with her again.

On your anniversary.

You made your way through the crowded streets, not caring where you ended up. You just needed to get away, to think, to process the hurt and betrayal. Your phone buzzed incessantly in your pocket, but you ignored it. Max's calls and messages could wait. Right now, you needed space.

After wandering aimlessly for a while, you found yourself at the edge of the city, near the river. The quiet contrast of the flowing water was a welcome change from the city's noise. You sat on a bench, pulling your jacket tighter around you as a light drizzle began to fall. The soft patter of rain on the water's surface was soothing, but it didn’t dull the ache in your heart.

Minutes turned into an hour, and the rain intensified. Your phone buzzed again, and this time you glanced at it. Last message from Max was a minute ago

Max: Y/N, please. Where are you? Let me explain. I’m looking for you.

You sighed, wiping away the raindrops mixed with your tears. Your fingers hovered over the screen before you finally typed a reply.

You: By the river. Near the old bridge.

You didn’t know why you told him, but some part of you wanted to hear him out. To understand why he kept doing this. Why would he even waste time with you if he was already in love with someone else?

God. Even the thought of that brought up a real pain in your chest. The rain fell harder, and you huddled under the small awning of a nearby building, trying to stay somewhat dry.

After what felt like an eternity, you saw a figure running towards you through the rain. It was Max, drenched and breathless. He slowed as he approached, his eyes filled with worry and regret. HIs clothes were all over the place, untucked and wrinkled and you only drew the worst conclusion.

”Y/N,” he gasped, stopping a few feet away. ”Thank God, you're okay.”

You stood up, arms crossed defensively. ”You’ve got five minutes, Max. Make it count.”

He nodded, taking a step closer. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know I’ve let you down. I was with her tonight because she’s going through a really rough time. She had no one else to turn to.”

You narrowed your eyes, the skepticism clear. ”On our anniversary? How convenient.”

He flinched at your tone but didn’t back down. ”I know it’s no excuse. I should have told you. I thought I could help her quickly and still make it to dinner. I didn’t realize it would take so long.”

You shook your head, the anger bubbling up again. ”This isn’t the first time, Max. How many times have I had to wonder if she’s really just a friend? How many times have you put her before me?”

Max stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”I’ve been blind, Y/N. I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. There’s nothing romantic between us. She’s just a friend, and she needed my help. But I see now that I’ve been unfair to you.”

Tears mixed with the rain on your cheeks. ”I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Max. The constant worry, the feeling like I’m not enough. It’s tearing me apart.”

He reached out, tentatively taking your hand. ”You are more than enough, Y/N. I’ve been an idiot, and I’m so sorry. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deception. All you saw was sincerity and regret. ”How can I trust you again, Max? What did she even need help with?”

He squeezed your hand gently. ” She saw her ex at the club and he was being an asshole. I just went over for five to put him in his place when one of her friends posted the story. I’m sorry for the delay, baby. I know I should've been more transparent about everything. Just please, give me a chance to make things right.”

”Is she okay?” You took a shaky breath, your heart aching with the desire to believe him and he exhaled when you pulled him under the shit excuse of shelter you had from the rain.

”She’s okay. I promise I won't ever embarrass you this way again, baby. You won’t ever have to sit and wonder if I'm bailing because I found someone else or not.” Max took another deep breath. ”I never will, baby, you are the only one I want. I will never find anyone.”

You closed your eyes, the tears spilling over as you hugged him. ”I wanna go home.”

”Okay let’s go home, baby.” Max gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. ”But I need you to know. You are my priority, Y/N. I’ll never let you feel otherwise again. I love you more than anything, and I’ll spend every day proving it to you.”

You leaned into his touch, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the pain as you hugged him.

He sighed again, closing his eyes to soak in this. ”Happy anniversary, baby. I love you”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a tired smile.

Carlos Sainz

Carlos's pleas had grown quieter, the urgency in his voice replaced with a softness that seemed to seep through the crack under the door.

You could hear his breath hitching, a clear sign that he was on the verge of breaking down himself. But you couldn’t get yourself to stand up as you sat on the bed, knees drawn to your chest, tears still streaming down your face as you tried to block out the sound.

”Y/N, please,” he choked out, and you could hear the tears in his voice now. ”I'm so sorry. I... I don't know what else to say. I can't lose you.”

The sincerity and raw emotion in his voice cut through you in a vicious manner, and against your better judgment, you found yourself getting up. You hesitated for a moment, your hand hovering over the doorknob, before finally opening the door just a crack.

Carlos was standing there, his eyes red and swollen from crying. When he saw you, a look of profound relief washed over his face. ”Thank you,” he whispered.

You stepped back, letting him in. He walked in slowly, as if afraid to invade your space, and you closed the door behind him. The silence was heavy, each second stretching into an eternity.

”I'm so sorry,” Carlos said again, his voice trembling. ”I swear, I didn't know she was going to kiss me. If I had known, I would have never invited her. I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your own shaking voice. ”But you did invite her, Carlos. And I told you to cut her off so many times. Why didn't you listen?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking utterly defeated. ”I thought... I thought we were just friends. I didn't realize she felt that way about me. And when she kissed me, I was so shocked. I— I froze. I'm an idiot. I should have pushed her away immediately.”

”You should have,” you echoed, your voice breaking as you recalled that scene and it felt like someone was physically stabbing you. ”Do you have any idea how much it hurt to see that?”

Carlos stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”I know, and I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, Y/N. You're the only one I want to be with.”

You looked down, tears falling onto the floor. ”How do I know that, Carlos? How do I know you won't let this happen again?”

He gently took your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. ”Because I can’t ever go through this again. I don’t want to know what it feels like to almost lose you. I'll cut her off completely. I promise you, baby, just, anything— it will never happen again.”

You pulled your hands away, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. ”It's not just about cutting her off, Carlos. I can never get that image out of my brain now. What if you just wake up tomorrow that you didn’t get rid of her because yo— you…?”

You trailed off but Carlos understood and immediately shook his head. ”No,” he said firmly. ”I will never wake up with anyone other than you in my heart. You’re the one I love, the one I am going to live my life with.”

He didn’t let you speak as he carried on,”I understand. Trust is earned, not given. And I'll do whatever it takes to earn it back. I'll prove to you that you can trust me.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of his words. ”I want to believe you. But it's going to take time. A lot of time.”

”I know,” he said softly. ”And I'm willing to wait. I'll wait as long as it takes for you to trust me again. Just please, don't shut me out. Let me be there for you.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the genuine remorse and love in them. Despite everything, a part of you still loved him deeply. ”Okay,” you whispered. ”But you have to understand, it's going to be hard. I'm still hurt, and it's going to take a while for me to heal.”

Carlos nodded, a flicker of hope in his eyes. ”I'll be patient. I'll be here for you, no matter what. And I'll do everything I can to make it right.”

”Alright.” You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope yourself. ”Just... don't make me regret it.”

”I won't,” Carlos stepped closer, tentatively reaching out to wipe a tear from your cheek. ”I love you, Y/N. More than anything.”

You gave him a small as you leaned into his touch, feeling a mix of emotions, ”I love you too, Carlos. That's why this hurts so much.”

He pulled you into a gentle hug, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. ”We'll get through this. Together.”

Lewis Hamilton

You paced around your apartment, the anger and hurt from the argument still fresh. The silence after the exchange with Lewis was deafening. You couldn’t believe he said those things. Your phone buzzed on the couch, but you ignored it, needing space to process.

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. It was loud and persistent. You hesitated, hoping it wasn’t who you thought it was.

”Y/N, please open up. I need to talk to you,” Lewis’s voice came through the door, sounding desperate.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. Your boyfriend stood there, looking remorseful.

”What do you want, Lewis?” you asked, your voice cold.

”Can I come in? Please, we need to talk,” he pleaded.

You stepped aside reluctantly, letting him in. He walked into the living room, turning to face you with regret etched on his face.

”I’m sorry, Y/N,” he started, his voice soft as he ran a hand over his face. ”I didn’t mean what I said. I was frustrated— but that’s no excuse.”

”You really hurt me,” you said, crossing your arms defensively knowing you had to support yourself before you start crying again. ”And you were so fucking cruel about it!”

”I know, and I hate that I did that to you,” he replied, his eyes sincere. ”I’ve been spending too much time with her, and I’ve been blind to how it’s been affecting you— us. Affecting us.”

”Why do you keep seeing her then? If she’s just a friend, why does it feel like she’s more important than me?” you demanded, your voice shaking.

”She’s not more important than you,” he said quickly. ”I’ve let the boundaries blur, and I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you. I’m sorry.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. This was not what you expected. You were ready for a fight, sure that Lewis would come with his own weapons out but this was undoing you.

”It’s not just about her, Lewis. It’s about us. You’ve been distant, and I feel like I’m losing you.”

Lewis nodded, looking pained and sick. ”You’re not losing me, Y/N. I’ve been an idiot, and I’ve taken you for granted. I want to fix this.”

”How?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Desperately clinging onto him to make amends because you couldn’t see any in hindsight.

”By being more present, by setting boundaries, and by showing you every day how much you mean to me,” he said, taking your hands in his. ”Please give me a chance to make this right.”

”Words aren’t enough anymore,” you said, looking down at your joined hands.

”I know,” he nodded. ”But I'm willing to go through any lengths, I’ll prove to you that you’re my priority.”

You searched his eyes, seeing the determination and regret. ”I want to trust you,” as your voice cracked, the very first tear fell down your face and Lewis immediately grabbed you as he pulled you to lay your head on his chest.

”I can’t though— I wish I could but I can't get hurt again.”

”I understand and I promise you can shoot me if I hurt you again” he said. ”I love you, Y/N. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the pain. ”I love you too.” You felt him take a sigh as he held you tight against his warm body.

”And I need you to understand that my feelings are valid,” you continued as you soaked his shirt with your tears. ”When I tell you something bothers me, I need you to listen and not dismiss it.”

”I promise I’ll listen,” he said, his voice full of sincerity. ”I’ll do better because losing you would end me.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift slightly. As you stood there in your boyfriend’s arms, you realized that healing would take time but there was no one else you would rather heal with. Though only time could tell what the future held for you.

Oscar Piastri

You closed your eyes as you heard the door of your best friend's apartment being knocked on again. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, betrayal, sadness.

You replayed the messages over and over in your head, each one cutting deeper than the last as you contemplated whether letting Oscar in would be a good decision. You finally made the decision when you heard the neighbor’s lock moving.

You pulled him in before they could open their door or call the cops and finally took a look at him. He looked disheveled. His eyes were red from holding unshed tears as they glossed over once he finally took you in.

”Y/N,” Oscar started, moving towards you with open arms. ”Thanks for letting me in.”

”I almost didn't.” You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep your voice steady as you stepped away from his open arms. ”But you were waking up the whole damn building.”

Oscar nodded, looking down at the ground. ”I deserve that.” You took a deep breath, desperate to get this over with.

”Why, Oscar? Why did you lie to me?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. ”I... I was scared you'd get upset. I thought if I told you the truth, you'd leave me.”

”And now?” you scoffed, your voice rising. ”You think I'm not upset now? You think lying to me makes it any better?”

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”Y/N, I made a mistake. A huge mistake. But nothing happened between me and her, I swear. We were drunk, and she sat on my lap for a picture. It was stupid and irresponsible, but that's all it was.”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. ”Do you have any idea how that made me feel? Seeing her on your lap after you told me she wasn't even going to be there?”

Oscar reached out to touch your arm, but you stepped back once again and his eyes brimmed with tears. ”Y/N, please. I love you. I was an idiot, but I love you. I need you to believe that.”

You wiped your eyes, trying to compose yourself. ”How can I believe you, Oscar? When I don't even know if you really want me?”

He swallowed hard, his tears finally falling out of his eyes. Oscar looked defeated as if he was fighting a battle already lost.

”Please don’t say that. You’re the only person I want. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. I'll never lie to you again. I'll be completely honest, even if it's something I think will hurt you. Just... please give me a chance to make it right.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of deception. You saw only earnest regret and a desperate longing for forgiveness. You wanted to believe him, but the hurt was still so raw.

”I don't know if I can,” you whispered. ”You've broken my trust, Oscar. And that's not something you can just fix with words.”

He nodded slowly. ”I know. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I'll go to counseling, I'll give you access to my phone, my social media, anything you need to feel secure. Just please, don’t give up on us.”

You stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation heavy in the air. You looked around the dimly lit apartment, as you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

”Okay,” you said finally. ”I’m willing to discuss this in the morning. But if you lie to me again, if you hurt me again, we're done. Do you understand?”

Oscar's face lit up with a mixture of relief and determination as his chest heaved. ”I understand. I promise you, Y/N, I'll never give you a reason to doubt me again.”

You nodded, as your lips quivered. ”I hope so. Because I don't think I can go through this again.”

He stepped closer, cautiously taking your hand. You allowed it, feeling the warmth of his touch. ”Thank you,” he said softly. ”I won't let you down.”

You stood together, still holding hands. The silence between you was different now—tentative, but with a flicker of understanding. You had a long way to go, but for the first time since those fateful messages, you felt like maybe, just maybe, not all was lost.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

The Prince Regent

aemond x sister smut

A/N: I haven't given yall smut in so long :( pls forgive me

WARNINGS: smut!, incest, murder (bye bye aegon)

WORD COUNT: 1,475 words

You feel ill when your brothers come back from battle. Your husband, Aegon is a step away from death and Aemond is… different. It all unnerves you.

You spend hours visiting your husband on his sickbed but there’s only so much you can take before you have to retire to your own chambers. You hated Aegon sometimes but you truly never wanted such a thing to befall him. You miss when he was healthy.

“Sister.” You don’t think you even heard Aemond knock before he’s in your room.

Your eyes well with tears when you see him, knowing it’s okay to break a little when in the presence of your dearest brother. “Aemond…” you let out in a whimper.

His face softens as he immediately makes his way over to you, pulling you into his strong arms. “It’s just all so awful.” You say.

“Oh my poor, dōna riña.” He murmurs into your hair, rubbing circles on your back. You’re such a fragile little thing. Aegon was terrible to you. Your twin can hardly understand why you’re so upset that he’s bedridden.

“I just… don’t want my children to grow up without their father. They’ve already lost their brother. They don’t understand why he won’t come to play with them anymore. There’s no way for me to explain it to them… I don’t know how to help them.”

“Aegon was a shit father anyhow.” He comments.

“Aemond.” You give him a scolding look through your tears.

“You can’t say I’m being untruthful. Besides, I can care for and love your children better than he ever could.”

“You are so careful with them. I am appreciative of it of course.” You murmur, feeling comforted by your brother’s gentle touch. “But you shouldn’t speak so unkindly of our King while he lies on what might be his deathbed.”

“If it is his deathbed, then I am the king.” Aemond responds.

“Would it not be Jaehaera as queen?” You question. Should it not be your daughter who would rule next?

“It would be difficult to have a girl heading our cause when Rhaenyra is also a woman. Besides, i’ve been named Prince Regent. I’m the king in all but name… and all kings need a queen.” He gives you a look that you can’t quite place.

“I am sure the Baratheon girl will be ever so pleased when she is informed of her rise in status.” You murmur.

“I won’t have dark haired, Baratheon mutts as my heirs.”

“Then who shall you marry? One of Vaemond’s granddaughters perhaps? I don’t think a Velaryon is worth breaking such a beneficial betrothal.” You don’t see it yet. You haven’t caught on to what his words mean, his treasonous words.

“I shan't break my engagement for some woman I care not for... I’ll break it for you.”

Your jaw drops. “Aemond, that is absurd.”

“I will quell their anger by arranging a match with Daeron. A third son is as good as a second.”

“You know that isn’t what i’m shocked by.”

“Are you truly shocked?” He tilts your chin up so you have no choice but to look him in the eyes. “I know it is I that you desire, not Aegon.”

“Aegon is my husband.” You protest.

“Aegon is a useless cunt who will be dead soon.” Aemond says firmly. “And when he’s dead, i’ll be king.”

“He might yet live and if he does, i’ll still be his wife. I won’t be an adulterer.” You push away from your brother, creating an appropriate distance. 

“I would never make such a woman of you. All I ask is that you answer my one question. If Aegon were dead, would you choose to marry me?”

There’s a long pause as you think about your answer. It would be treasonous to respond truthfully… but it is Aemond asking the question. You can’t lie to your beloved brother.

“I would.”

There’s a certain glint in his eye when you give him your answer. He leaves the room without saying anything else.

Over the next few hours, you try your hardest not to overthink. The way Aemond phrased the question, the way he looked at you after you answered, it was unnerving. You know your brother wants nothing more than to take care of you but he could never harm Aegon, could he?

Your question was answered by morning. Aegon is dead.

It wasn’t Aemond. You tell yourself, repeating it for a week. You only left your room when it was time for the funeral. You don’t speak to anyone, especially not him. Tonight, you don’t sleep, trying to distract yourself with what most would call silly feminine interests.

“Sister?” You look up from your needlework to see him standing there, stoically in the middle of your room.

“The hour is late, Aemond.” You say, confused by his presence and more than nervous by it.

“I know. You should be sleeping. I thought you would be sleeping.”

“I couldn’t find my rest.” You whisper.

“Why?” 

He knows why.

“It was by your hand, was it not?”

“I hardly know of what you speak.” He brushes you off.

“I am no fool.”

“I know you aren’t. That is why you’ll never say it aloud.”

“Is that a threat?” You ask and there's a visible pang of hurt shown on his visage.

“I would never do anything to harm you.” He states firmly, getting closer and taking the needlework out of your hands so he may hold them instead.

“But you would covet your brother’s wife as he lies on his deathbed. He has been cold for but a week; have you already come to claim me?”

“You desire to be claimed by me.” He states, irritated by your current disdain for him.

“I desire a good man by my side.”

“Then why do you think of me when Aegon fucks you?” Aemond grabs your wrists, pulling you closer to him. You gasp. He’s never spoken to you like this before.

“Aemond…” You breathe out, appalled. 

“You toil with this decision so i’ll make it for you.” His right hand slides down to your waist and he pulls you flush against him. “We will consummate tonight.”

He kisses you with rough passion, stealing your breath from your lips. Your brother has waited too long for this and will not wait a second longer. He pushes you back until you reach the bed, the two of you falling atop it.

“I will have you now, my wife… my beautiful bride.” 

“This is… we can’t.”

“The King can do as he pleases.”

He wastes no time, reaching his hand up your skirts until he finds your small clothes. He rubs gently through the fabric, smirking as he feels the wetness before he pulls the garment down.

“Be gentle, Aemond.” It was never a request you would make of Aegon. Such a sentiment would do you no good with a man who takes pleasure in pain.

“Of course, my dōna riña but by the end of the night, my babe will be in your belly.”

You gaze up at him as he unbuckles his trousers, such a sweet nymphet was wasted on a bastard like Aegon.

You wince as his cock splits your tight cunt and he marvels at the grimace. He must be much more well endowed than the dead king to warrant such a response.

“Shh, I'm sorry. I know it hurts. Poor sweet angel.” He lets you adjust to him, wanting you to enjoy the times you will lie together just as he does.

When he no longer sees pain strewn across your face, he begins to thrust. A little choked gasp leaves your throat as he does; you never expected to enjoy such a feeling.

“Hmm, you like that?” He taunts, beginning to pick up to a pace that you can’t handle.

“Oh, it’s too fast.” You whimper, but he doesn’t slow. Your big brother knows what you can take. Besides, there’s a bit of sadism in every Targaryen man.

He begins to pound into you, relishing each moan his baby sister makes. It’s sick, but nothing brings him more pleasure than knowing he will be a better husband than Aegon in every way possible.

Aemond hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and the new angle lets him get even deeper inside you.

“Gods, you’re just sucking me in.” He wanted so desperately to last longer as he begins to furiously rub your pearl but the way you squeeze around him makes it hard.

His hips stutter but he knows you’re close too as you begin to spasm around him. He digs himself into you with one final thrust before painting your walls white with his seed.

“We will have the wedding this week, my darling. I’ll wait no longer for you.”

comment to be added to the taglist

[1d1195]

Traditional - Extra VIII

Read Traditional here | ~3.5k words

Warnings: it was requested our MC be jealous again. Feelings of inadequacy. There are also some mentions of smutty topics. Otherwise, pretty fluffy. As of 10/14/24 I've added a bonus scene as well. It's at the bottom of the post update 🥰

Summary: At a fancy event, she can't help but think about how out of place she feels in Harry's life. Especially when the person he's dancing with is so gorgeous.

Harry can't believe she's so lovely and all his.

Harry was across the room looking like a James Bond character in his tux. He looked so effortlessly handsome and cool. Like he went to these things daily. It was impossible to tear her gaze away from him and she could barely make out the pretty smile on his mouth from so far away.

“Hey,” Louis’ voice was matched with a hand on the small of her back. Finally pulling her from her staring contest with someone who didn’t even know she was staring.

“Hey,” she smiled politely. “You look good.”

“I always look good,” he reminded her with an eye roll and pecked her cheek. “You look stunning,” he smiled sweetly. “Can’t believe Harry let you wear anything with that much cleavage.”

She snorted. “Harry would never tell me I can’t wear something,” she rolled her eyes. “I also wore a jacket until after we got here,” she explained.

Louis laughed and guided her toward the bar. “Thanks for inviting us.”

“Of course,” she shrugged one shoulder. “I’m sorry El’s not feeling well.”

“I know,” he pouted. “I’m not to tell her about any of the hors d’oeuvres,” he smirked.

She smiled. “We can probably put some aside for her,” she shrugged.

“You really planned all this?”

“Not really. I met with the person that planned it.”

Louis took in the spacious ballroom in one of the fanciest hotels in the city. There were wealthy people from all over schmoozing and donating like money meant nothing. It was inspiring they were so generous, but still terrified her a bit about how many digits probably floated in their bank accounts. Louis was still admiring the décor, the fancy place settings, the centerpieces that she made sure looked right the night before during the set-up phase. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she nodded appreciatively. “I hope it’s successful.”

Louis gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Your brother would be so proud,” he assured her. There was a tug in her chest and a sting in her eyes. She swallowed, nodding silently and didn’t say anything else. Didn’t want Louis to say anything else either. “But he wouldn’t have let you leave the house with that much cleavage either.”

She snorted again and shook her head. “I don’t see you complaining.”

“I may have the hottest girlfriend on the planet, but I can appreciate a plunging neckline with the rest of them,” he winked and grabbed two wine glasses from the bar top. “Where’s Harry?”

They meandered to another tall table setting their drinks down after sipping. “He’s been chatting with clients, business owners, old friends, etc...” she shrugged. “I’ll be lucky if I get one dance with him.”

“Well, his loss then,” he smiled. “Guess I’ll have to be your dance partner.”

“I’m really glad you’re here, Lou,” she sighed with relief. “I’ve... I’ve kind of been dreading this.”

He shook his head. “It’s stunning, love. Beautiful. You did an amazing job, and I know Harry will be thanking you with sexual favors later tonight.”

“Jesus,” she blushed and sipped her glass. She glanced across the room again and found him staring at her. Her heart skipped a beat. It was so stupid. She lived with the man for God’s sake. But his eyes scanning her made her feel warm all over. She waved briefly. His smile grew.

Louis nodded at him, and he nodded in response. It seemed they were finally over her broken arm. Although she was certain Harry would never forgive himself as much as Louis would never forgive him. But at least they could talk again. “Where’s Niall?”

She sighed. “Last I saw he was hanging out by the food line.”

“The food line? What are we waiting for? You told me about the menu, I’ve been dreaming about mini cheeseburgers. Classy place like this? They’re going to be the most amazing thing I’ll ever eat.”

She giggled and grabbed her glass. Louis followed behind her. “I think that was a bit selfish of me, but I haven’t heard a complaint yet.”

*

Harry was still wandering about and chatting with everyone but her. It was his job, but she missed him. She wanted to ogle him up close with how handsome he was. She and Louis played a gossiping game making up stories about couples they saw. It was dramatic and would give any soap opera a run for their money.

“Hey Louis,” Niall’s own rounds finally landed them at their table. “Enjoying?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Told you darling,” he winked and gave her shoulder a squeeze. She sipped her drink looking around for her boyfriend and not seeing him. “Do you want to dance, love?” Louis asked.

“I think Harry’s on the floor,” Niall said sipping the final remnants of his own drink. Her heart fell.

“He is?”

Niall frowned. “Yeah, sorry. I... It’s just a business thing. Ya know?”

She nodded feeling slighted that someone else got to dance with her sexy boyfriend. It was bound to happen. But she was hoping she would have gotten the first dance at least. “Well, fortunately, she’ll be free to dance with the hottest man here,” Louis smiled, grabbing her hand, and twirling her once into his embrace. She laughed, shaking her head and made her way to the dance floor with Louis. At least her best friend was there to keep her mind from thinking about how Harry was dancing with someone else.

*

“I’m sorry I gotta leave you alone, love. I don’t want to leave El alone while she’s feeling poorly for so long,” he sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

She shook her head. “Don’t worry. Tell her I hope she feels better. And that she likes her treats.”

“She’s lucky she doesn’t know mini cheeseburgers were on the menu, I’ll eat them in the car.”

“Louis Tomlinson, don’t you dare. I will ask her about them specifically.”

He kissed her cheek and winked at her. “See you, babe. Have a good night.”

Once more, alone with her thoughts and only able to stare at Harry from afar, she grabbed another drink from the bar and headed to the middle of the tables hoping it would give her the best view to find her boyfriend. The night was a little more than halfway over, but it seemed like it would continue forever.

She took her phone out of the pocket of her dress. An absolute must for an event of this caliber. She looked over her to-do list for Monday. Sent a few emails. Researched a couple articles. They were supposed to clean the house tomorrow which seemed dreadful after a long night like this. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she slept in a little. But when was the last time they slept in?

Harry loved her so much. She knew it. She felt it when he spoke, when he moved, when he bought her anything and everything she wanted without so much as blinking or thinking about what it meant to her.

But the jealousy that hit her like a truck when her gaze caught sight of him dancing with a woman around their age made her want to throw up. It made her feel so inadequate and she knew she wasn’t. Harry insisted. But it hurt. It hurt so much, and it wasn’t even something she needed to worry about or feel. Harry loved her so much.

“Hey, darling. Working again?”

She blinked, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah,” she shook her head hoping Niall didn’t see the way her gaze snapped away from Harry across the room. Was her face flushed? Was Niall going to notice? She worried she would cry if he said something. She did not need to make a scene. “Just a lull, ya know? No one is really talking to me,” she laughed softly.

“Lucky you. I’m reaching my quota of human interaction.”

“Do you want to dance?” She asked, hoping that if she could find a spot on the dance floor away from Harry, it would make her feel better.

“Make Harry jealous? Absolutely,” he held his hand out for her to take and she rolled her eyes with another shake of her head. Niall’s right hand found the small of her back, the left clutched her right and pressed it to his chest. Her free hand rested on his arm.

“Are you a ballroom dancer in your free time Niall?” She asked as he guided her around the floor. He chuckled and smiled.

“I wasn’t kidding, it’s really hot to know how to dance. The ladies love it,” he winked.

Her chest ached. She was sure he was right. Her eyes glancing around for the beautiful woman that was hanging onto her boyfriend. Maybe they were old friends. It was a party where Harry was meant to schmooze with others. It wasn’t his fault. She was being extra and insecure.

But she really missed him in the hours they had been there. “He’s an idiot for not dancing with you,” Niall murmured into her ear. She swallowed feeling the emotion she was trying to beat down creeping up her throat. “You look beautiful, nothing on her,” he assured her.

“How do you know—”

“I’m one of your best friends, darling,” he squeezed around her waist. “Even if we all think it’s silly, we know you’re worried about your worth for Harry.”

“She’s so pretty.”

“Well, you look stunning. If Harry didn’t say so, you should break up with him. This dress alone, wow. Maybe he does have something to be jealous of,” he winked at her. She laughed. Loud. Loud enough for others to look over and she rolled her eyes at him, her cheeks heating as others went back to their conversations. “She might be pretty, but so are you.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “I don’t fit in Niall. Sometimes I feel like I’m an assistant still or an intern. I just do all these things to make things easier but you and him? You guys don’t need me.”

“That’s so wrong,” Niall shook his head. “He would be crushed to hear you say that.”

She went to say maybe he was right, but her eyes caught sight of him. Like a magnet. His head was thrown back in a laugh. A laugh that she loved so much. The woman he was dancing with smiling delightedly. Why wouldn’t she be? It felt like winning an award when she made him laugh. His hand was placed perfectly on her waist, her dainty hand cupped in his. They were probably talking about something she didn’t know anything about. Something that Harry could chat about with someone who had more business experience than her. Someone who wasn’t basing all their knowledge based on theoretical ideas and probabilities from her classes. She turned back to Niall, looking over his shoulder, her eyes burning and aching to cry. She swallowed squeezing her eyes shut. “I have to run to the ladies’ room,” she said quietly.

“Darling?”

“Sorry,” she murmured, dropping Niall’s hand, and scurrying as quickly as she could in her heels to outside the ballroom. The party would be over soon, and she would be able to sneak out and home while Harry finished with everything else. By then she would have calmed down and Harry would be none the wiser.

*

“Kitten?” Harry’s voice was so gentle. He knocked softly. “Y’in here?”

She seriously thought about just ignoring him. He would go away looking for her elsewhere. She could calm herself down and convince herself she was being dramatic. Harry wouldn’t know. But Harry would know. He would see it immediately.

“Niall said y’ran to the restroom in a hurry. M’pretty sure you’re in here,” he continued.

She was going to kill Niall.

Biting her lip, she nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered.

“Y’okay, love?” He asked, his voice nervous.

She nodded but he couldn’t see her. “Just... tired. Needed a second,” she kept her voice quiet. Afraid she would upset him. It was stupid. She knew Harry loved her so unconditionally. But the way he looked with that woman on his arm. It was like they were picture perfect. Straight out of a movie.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

Saying no would break his heart. He would wait right outside. It wasn’t like she would get away crying and trying to pass him. She swiped at her eyes, tried to console herself quietly. “Yeah.”

The door opened. She saw his shoes below the stall door she was hiding behind. “Y’gonna come out her, kitten?”

She took as deep a breath she could manage. Pushed the lock open and stepped outside into the main part of the restroom.

He looked so flawless and perfect other than the frown etched on his lips. “Hey beautiful,” pity covered her face. “S’matter, kitten?”

Before she could stop it, she choked out a sob. Pressing her hand to her lips. His hands moved toward her immediately at the sound. “It’s so dumb Harry,” she whimpered and reached for a paper towel so she could dab at her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

His frown deepened and he cupped her cheeks. “S’not dumb if s’upsetting you, my love,” he promised. “Are y’hurt?” He asked his eyes scanning her quickly from head to toe. She shook her head.

“I didn’t get to dance with you,” she sniveled. “I know how stupid this is,” she swallowed. “But you look so good and everyone you have danced with is equally beautiful. More beautiful than me and I just feel so out of place here. I’m so inadequate. It’s like I can’t stop thinking about that woman saying I’m plain and not worth your time. And I know how ridiculous it is because you love me so much, I feel it all the time but I—”

He pulled her to him quickly. Silencing her with the swift motion. His hand cupped the side of her face. His other arm looped around her waist, his lips brushed the top of her head, and he looked at the mirror as he caught her gaze. She looked down immediately. “Baby,” he hummed. “Look up, please,” he pleaded quietly when she didn’t look up. But Harry was grateful she melted into his chest as he held her. Shyly, she peeked up, only partially meeting his serious expression. “M’sorry I made you feel out of place.”

“You didn’t—”

“M’sorry I didn’t dance with you,” he kissed the top of her head. “I’ve missed you the whole night,” he assured her so soothingly. His voice was slow and deep. Like he wanted her to hear each letter of every word. There was no room for anything else but what he was saying. He wanted her to be crystal clear on the point he was making. “I didn’t want t’be away from you for a second, kitten,” he promised. “M’sorry I made you feel inadequate when you are the furthest thing from inadequate,” he stroked his thumb on her cheek. “Y’look so beautiful. M’crushed you’re crying,” he pouted. “Y’still look breathtaking,” a weak smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “But you’re much too beautiful t’be crying. Especially over this.”

She turned toward him, slid one hand beneath her cheek so she wouldn’t get her wet makeup on his tux. “We didn’t even get a picture,” she whispered.

He sighed. “You’re right, we didn’t,” he grumbled. “We could take one now,” he offered.

She snorted. “That’s attractive. Me all snot-nosed and red eyed.”

“I still think y’look gorgeous,” he assured her.

She sighed. “I’m sorry I ruined everything. It was such a nice night and now because I was all jealous I—”

“Is... is this how y’feel when m’jealous of Niall?” He interrupted.

“What?”

“Like s’the most ridiculous thing in the world,” he rolled his eyes. She laughed quietly despite not wanting to. She supposed, objectively, he was right. “Y’have nothing t’be jealous of,” he promised her.

“Yes, I guess that’s how it feels. But I’m being reasonable.”

The sigh that left him was exasperated with mock irritation. But she could sense the tension easing slightly. “You’re not, kitten. You’re...” he shook his head. “You’re perfect.”

She took a deep breath and shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. M’sorry y’feel so sad y’had t’cry in here,” he kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t make y’feel secure.”

But he did. It was hard to explain. Harry made her feel beautiful and perfect. The inadequacy was only her feeling of being younger than him, knowing the people he interacted with were so much smarter than her. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Harry.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “I talked ‘bout you to everyone. Told them how lovely this was. It was all your doing. How y’make m’life so much easier. I finally feel like I have a balance. M’not stressed all the time. M’able to delegate more. M’trusting more. You have made Styles Incorporated better because you’re there.”

She blushed. “I really didn’t do all that much for this. I just met with the person that planned it.”

“But I never would have picked these colors, never would have gotten the vendors y’chose. Do y’know how many people raved ‘bout the mini cheeseburgers? This place is so fancy we don’t get mini cheeseburgers at these places,” he chuckled. “And the money,” he skimmed his thumb on her lip. “Baby, you are responsible for all the charitable donations made tonight. Y’have no idea how incredible y’are.” She turned toward his chest, but a smile found its way on her lips. “Y’look so gorgeous; I was jealous Louis and Niall got t’dance with you.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Say it again.”

She giggled, tilted her head up and met his eyes. “I’m sorry I’m... needy.”

“S’my favorite thing t’be needed by you. You never need anybody, so it means a lot t’me when y’need me. When y’want me,” he kissed her softly. “M’always needing you,” he reminded her.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he kissed her forehead and wiped below her eyes one more time. “Come dance with me,” he released everything but her hand and tugged her toward the main room.

“The event’s nearly over, Harry. They’ll be packing up their stuff.”

“They can play one more song. I’ll pay them another ten thousand if they need me to. M’going t’dance with m’beautiful girlfriend.”

*

At one-fifteen, Niall was sitting in her usual spot for her mini coffee break with her boyfriend. “Is this because I cried?” She frowned.

“No, darling. Well, maybe. You gave me an idea,” he chuckled.

She glanced at Harry. He held his hands up defensively. “I’ve got nothing t’do with it, kitten. Wish I did. Wish I thought of it so I could take credit.”

“But it’s better because I thought of it. It’s because I love you more than him,” Niall winked.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t push it, Niall.”

She set Harry’s drink on his desk. “What kind of idea did you get while I was crying?”

Niall smirked. “That you should dump Harry—”

“Niall.”

“—I think you deserve a promotion. One that accentuates all your talents and skills that have made the people at Styles Incorporated smarter, better, and more talented. It’s only an idea. We don’t want to part with your current roles because you’re so good at them. But I think you deserve to be in the spotlight that showcases the kind of things you did to make last night happen.”

Her throat ached wanting to cry again. “I told y’she would cry,” Harry hurried to wrap her up in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “S’a good thing, my love,” he reminded her.

She sniffed. “But—”

“You’ve earned it,” Niall said. “Harry didn’t even think of it, that’s why you should like me as a boss more than him.” He explained. “It’s not because you’re dating the CEO of the company. You’re incredible,” Niall assured her.

“You are,” Harry’s voice was soft, reverent in her ear as he held her. “I wish I thought of it before him. He’s been insufferable all day.”

“You don’t have to say yes. Think about it. Think about what your dream job would be. Harry will make it happen,” Niall put a hand on her shoulder, gave it a squeeze. “I’ll let you guys have your lunch date.”

“It is a lunch date,” Harry grumbled.

“I’ve never had a lunch date suck me off under—”

“Bye Niall.”

“I knew he knew,” she mumbled.

“Are y’okay, kitten?” She nodded. “Are y’sure, baby? M’sorry you’ve been so upset the last twenty-four hours. S’not very nice,” his lips touched right above her ear, pressing to her hairline. It felt extremely intimate even though they were in private. She nodded against him. “I love you so much, kitten. More and more every second,” he promised. “There’s no one y’need t’be jealous over. Ever. M’whole heart is yours.”

She sighed contentedly, feeling a little less inadequate.  A little more adored (which seemed almost impossible. But Harry was good at what he did).

“Say it again,” she sighed dreamily.

**You can find a bonus scene for this part here.**

--

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[gretavanlace]

Breña

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, oral sex (m rec), illusions to oral sex (fem rec), fingering, etc.

Inspired by this delicious ask and blurb that was sent to me ages ago. I promised I’d get to this one, and I did, I’m just sorry it took me so long. Forgive me 💕

Loosely edited, but what else is new?

“Get fucked, Josh.” Jake barks with such venom your head snaps in his direction. He rarely speaks unkindly, even if it is only his twin brother, who will love him anyway, on the receiving end.

For his part in the exchange, Josh merely smooths a nonexistent wrinkle in his shirt with an airy chuckle. “Maybe you should take your own advice, brother. Seems like you need to get laid. Awful testy, darling.”

He means it as a joke. A laugh to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, it doesn’t land and you watch on in shocked silence as Jake slaps his glass of whiskey down on the coffee table before him, and then stalks from the room without a word - his absence solidified by the sharp slam of his bedroom door.

”You shouldn’t have said that,” your admonishment is quiet, issued tepidly while you stare down into your glass of wine. You feel intrusive, yes, but you feel worse for Jake, and that wins out.

”I know,” he agrees with the decency to at least sound repentant, “But I didn’t mean it that way. And besides, it's been months. He just needs to get on with it.”

”He loved her.” Your standpoint certainly doesn’t come from a place of loyalty to Jake’s ex - you loathed her, but instead, for Jake and his clearly wounded heart.

”He didn’t love her,” Josh corrects, and likely rightly so “He loved the idea of her. There’s a big fucking difference.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t insert yourself, but you’ve never been great about biting your tongue. ”Maybe give him some time to figure that out for himself, then.”

Josh rises with a smile that tells you your candor hasn’t ruffled his feathers. It’s so difficult to rile him up that it often feels like some twisted challenge, “Don’t you ever get tired of being right all the time? Seems exhausting to me. You should try being a fuck up…I could give you lessons.”

He drops a kiss upon the crown of your head and trips off to place his glass in the sink. “I seem to have worn out my welcome here at Jacob’s Tavern on the Green. You want a ride? I only had the one.”

”No,” you wave him off and nip at your glass, “I might just crash on the couch. The A/C’s out at my place again.”

”Alright, then,” he shrugs on his jacket and pats at his hair as if he’s prepping for a night out rather than the quick drive home, “Don’t poke the bear though, doll face. I’d like to keep you unscathed. Kinda like you.”

”That’s funny,” you deadpan, “Because I can’t stand you.”

He wrinkles his nose, offers a quick wink, and then out the front door he slips.

The couch remains your lighthouse for a time, but everyone knows Josh gives terrible advice, so if he has warned against poking the bear, that’s obviously exactly what you should do.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, just before knocking softly on his bedroom door. “Jake?”

Your call is met with silence, but just before you turn to leave, feeling dejected and meddlesome, the door cracks open to reveal him, now barefoot and shirtless…a pair of sweats resting so low on his hips your mind wanders into dangerous territory “What’s up? Bored of my idiot brother already?”

He’s presenting a brave face, but you can see the anguish in his eyes, and also, something else that you can’t quite place.

”He left, actually.” Why do you suddenly feel so stupid? “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seem…I don’t know, on edge?”

He reaches out and gives your arm a friendly squeeze, “I’m alright, sweetheart. He just dances on my last nerve, that’s all.”

And while that’s not a total lie, you also know there’s a lot more to it, so you gently push him along. “You sure, Jake? You can talk to me, you know? I’ve been there, I understand how hard it is to miss someone you shouldn’t.”

Searching your face for something you can’t identify, he lets a stretch of quiet carry on a beat too long, before finally shaking his head, holding the door open a little wider in wordless invitation.

Once you’re perched awkwardly at the foot of his bed, hands clasped and ankles crossed, he speaks up “I don’t miss her, necessarily. It’s just hard. Especially the way it ended. I just…”

God, he looks so small and walled off. “You just what?”

Slumping onto the bed beside you, he sighs “I just wish it had ended differently.”

”It never ends well,” you flop down as well, and stare up at the ceiling as though constellations might appear to dazzle you. “Everyone always hates the ending. Doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

”Do you miss her?” He asks, staring up at that bright, blank white just as you are.

What an absurd question. Why should he care? And were you really that great at pretending to like her to spare his feelings?

The moment seems to scream for honesty, so you hand it over. “No, I don’t. I never cared much for her to begin with, and then she…” you falter and search for a kind way to describe it, “and then she did what she did to you, and I— no, I don’t miss her at all.”

”It’s alright to just say it. She cheated on me.” He laughs a little. “Fuck, how pathetic does that sound?”

Rolling to your side to face him, you blink away his self deprecation, “It isn’t pathetic, Jake. Not on your end, anyway.”

“I suppose I just wonder what I did or didn’t do, you know?” He chuckles quietly to mask his vulnerability, “What did he do that I didn’t? Why wasn’t I enough?”

“I don’t think that’s really how it works,” you assure him, turning to stare up at his ceiling once again, but now reaching for his hand. “Besides, I can’t imagine you not being enough.”

He returns your encouraging squeeze and makes a half-whispered joke, a verbal mask to hide behind. “Maybe I just wasn’t good enough in bed. I swear I know where everything is, and where things go…mostly.”

”Shut up,” you laugh softly so as not to disturb the calm that has settled. “I have zero doubts about your abilities, Jake Kiszka, in bed or otherwise.”

Now, he is the one rolling to his side to face you. “And what does that mean?”

”I don’t know,” you shrug, suddenly feeling extremely on display. “It’s just…well, in my experience, men like you don’t often disappoint in that department.”

”Men like me?” You have perked his interest and plucked at that mildly conceited chord that lives within him. “And what type of man am I exactly, sweetheart?”

”I’m not going to stroke your ego, Jacob. Though if you’d like to do it yourself, I’d be happy to leave the room.”

He laughs at that, “If I planned on stroking something you’d leave the room? Another devastating blow to my pride.”

You groan in mock exasperation at his tactless humor, earning another chuckle from him. You love the sound of his laugh, and you love being the one to make him laugh even more.

”It’s not like it would matter anyway.” He sighs, nuzzling against his duvet to get comfortable. “Stroking something, I mean.”

”Jake!” Your head whips to meet his scandalous gaze.

”Oh, grow up.” He grins, eyes flashing with mischief, but still something else that you can’t place.

He’s right. You promised him he could talk to you, so you shake it off and start anew. “What do you mean?”

”I just…can’t…” he pauses, searching for his resolve. “Not since she left.”

You’re shocked, and unfortunately, not hiding it well. “You haven’t had sex since then?”

It doesn’t seem possible. He’s gorgeous and charming, charismatic and dripping sex. Women crawl for him everywhere you go.

“I haven’t done anything since she left.” He corrects, dodging your stare. “I can’t. No matter what I do. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Every time I get anywhere near I—“

He abruptly cuts himself off, “I’m sorry. This isn’t cool. I shouldn’t be telling you this. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

“No,” the last thing you want him to do is shut down. “It’s okay. Talk to me.”

He closes himself off again with a clipped shake of his head ”You don’t want to hear this shit.”

Alright, that’s it, he can’t have it his way. He can fight you tooth and nail, but you’re going to march on anyway and drag him along, kicking and screaming.

“So you haven't gotten off since the split?” You ask as if it’s no big deal…and maybe it isn’t.

“Jesus, babe…” he teases, “such a mouth on you.”

Interesting choice of words, Jacob.

”It’s just surprising to me, that’s all.” It’s a leading comment, and you damn well know it.

”Why?”

”Because you’re you, Jake.” Now you’ve spun to face him again as well. “You just walk around like living, breathing sex all the time. And you’re also a liar with your ‘mostly’ bullshit. You know where everything goes and then some. I can tell.”

”You sound terribly sure of your analysis, sweetheart.” His voice has grown quiet and it makes you long to squeeze your thighs together.

“Am I wrong?” Oh, you seem to have grown quiet as well. When did that happen? “Because I don’t think I am.”

He ignores your question, “Living, breathing sex, huh?”

”Again, I can leave the room if you’d like to sing your own praises.”

His fingers reach up to smooth an errant lock of hair away from your forehead, “You are the one singing my praises. I’m simply enjoying the attention.”

You’re further hushed at his touch ”You’re a smug little shit, you know that?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I do know that…it’s just been a bit since I could remember why.”

You want this. You want this so badly you might even be inclined to beg for it. Instead, you seize the opportunity with feigned confidence. “I could help you. If you wanted.”

His fingers are still caressing your forehead, lulling you so softly, “Help me how?”

”I don’t know,” you’re toying with the chain around his neck now, avoiding his eyes, “I could…try.”

”Try what?” There’s a smirk ghosting at the corner of his beautiful mouth, and it betrays his intentions. He knows exactly what you mean. He just wants you to say it.

Now or never. “I could get you off. If it would help. I mean, I’d like to…I want to help.”

The strong column of his throat bobs as he swallows hard, and then there is his nose, nuzzling against yours, the closest to his kiss that you have ever been ”You want to make me cum?”

The way he speaks of it, as if you two have been here a thousand times together before, is so sexy your head is suddenly spinning.

You offer a tiny nod and then hurry on before you lose your nerve, “You could just lie here and I could…”

Every ounce of confidence seeps from your bones when his eyes, cinnamon sugar and blown wild with lust, catch your own.

”You could what?” He presses the gentlest kiss against your cheek.

”I could use my mouth…I…” fuck, you can hardly breathe, and the room feels too small, crowded up with tension and long repressed desire.

A needy, hungry groan rumbles out of his chest as he pulls you a little closer. “You would do that for me?”

”Of course I would.”

His eyes are on your lips now, agonized and desperate. “Have you thought about it before, or do you just feel sorry for me?”

He knows the answer. There’s that smugness you spoke of.

”I think about it all the time.” You whisper honestly. “Do you?”

”No.” his hands fist into your hair. “I don’t think about my cock in your mouth,” oh god, the way those words tumble off of his pretty tongue, dripping saccharine but so dark “but I do think about my face between your thighs…how you’d sound. How you would taste. How you might rock your hips against me when I got you close.”

In response, you’re on your knees before him in a breath, fingers curled into the waistband of his sweats, imploring him with your gaze for permission.

He nods with a hitching inhale and that’s all the confirmation you need. Pulling them down, there it is. Stunning and achingly hard, thick and pulsing for you. As breathtaking as an obscene symphony. He looks so ready, leaking opalescent droplets into the soft dusting of hair below his belly button. You doubt you’ve ever wanted anything more.

The flat of your tongue runs warm and wet from base to tip, nudging harder at that special spot just below his velvety head. How did you know? He wonders as he twitches against your kiss.

After such a long stretch of fighting to get off, he’s now frightened he just might embarrass himself and cover your lovely face before you’ve even had a chance to suck him in.

But suck him in you do, without warning, and so deeply he can feel the silken back of your throat. Lurching forward, curling in on himself against the pleasure, he chokes out a humiliating sound and grabs at you…one hand tangled in your hair, the other clutched around the nape of your neck. “Oh my god, baby, please…”

You nod your understanding and swallow around him, sweeping your tongue back and forth. He sounds blissful but pushes you away without warning. “M’gonna cum,” he murmurs through his panting breaths, “just give me a second.”

How has he gotten here so quickly? It’s horribly humbling, but he wants it so badly his heart is resting in his throat, thrumming savagely, pulse-points pounding a fierce and uncontrollable beat.

”That’s the fucking point, Jake,” you fist at his wet cock and drink him back down once before pulling back, “You need it, I can feel it. Cum in my mouth. Please?”

Your please, so sweet and innocent while asking for something so filthy, snatches a growl out of him that flushes you with unbearable heat.

Both of his palms find either side of your head tentatively, “Can I stand?”

You nod eagerly around him, and then gaze up at his face once he is hovered above you like a deity soaked in depravity. There is a pink blush painted across the bridge of his nose and cheeks that makes you feel as soft as warm cotton.

“I want to use your mouth,” he hushes, “Is that alright?”

Again, you merely nod with your mouth stuffed full of him.

”You give me a little shove if you want to stop…” he coddles your cheek, and speaks like a lullaby as you blink up at him in consent.

When he drives inside of you, it is a vicious invasion, but one that you’d plead for over and over again. He is buried so deeply inside your throat you can scarcely breathe, but the threading of his brow and the steady moans dripping from his lips are all you’ve ever wanted.

He’s twitching already against your tongue, slipping deeper into you until you’re fighting a gag that only wrecks him further.

One, two, three, thrusts and he is reduced to whimpers, “Shit, oh god, please, I need it. I need it so bad. I need to—“ a pained grunt, through gritted teeth, interrupts his babbling, “I’m cumming, sweetheart…”

The taste of his release dances across your taste buds as you struggle to swallow him down.

He is shuddering and cursing above you, holding you still as he shakes his head violently in apology, “I’m sorry…” his voice is but a phantom of itself, “It’s too much, I shouldn’t have…not in your mouth…oh fuck, fuck…”

And you’d tell him if you could, that it is a privilege…his offering, a gift. Instead, you allow every drop to roll down your throat as you suckle gently for more until he is shivering in overstimulation.

Finally, you allow his cock to slip from your mouth as his thumbs sweep over your cheekbones. “I— goddamn…thank you, sweetheart. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

”You’re welcome, Jake…” your thumbs find their own place to sweep against - his thighs. “Thank you.”

His lips part to protest, but pull back into a snarling hiss when you wrap your hand around his length “You’re still hard.”

He looks half-bashful, “I’d say it’s been a while, but I think it’s just you.”

”Yeah?” You rise from your knees and nip at his chin, “Have I made you hard before?”

”Does someone have a bit of a praise kink?” His grip sinks into the dips of your hips beneath your shirt, “Do you like knowing you’ve made my dick ache?”

”Maybe,” you shimmy your shoulders nonchalantly, “or maybe I’m just a cock tease.”

”Get on the bed.” He demands, in lieu of an actual retort, while tugging at the button and zipper of your jeans. “Everything off. You may lay however you’d like, but I want that pussy on display for me…let me see her.”

You may? Well…there’s that bit of dominance you had imagined hidden away inside of him more times than you care to admit

Dropping down on the bed, completely bared to him for the first time, you close your eyes against his appreciative scrutiny, “You’re fucking perfect,” his words are nearly vibrating, “Stay just like that and let me look at you.”

Demurely, you do as he says.

”Legs a little wider, babe…lemme see that sugary little cunt,” oh, he’s deliciously dirty.

”Hi, pretty girl,” he coos when your knees press against the sheets.

”Hi.” You murmur back softly.

He ever so gently waves you off, “Not talking to you, sweetheart. Mind your own business.”

Your cheek kisses linen as you nestle your face into the bed, content to allow him to have his private moment with your pussy. If that’s what he wants, that’s what he gets

His fingertips are there now, curling so lightly over your swollen clit, pretending like they just might nudge inside you now and then, until you’re writhing with want. “Please, Jake…” a tremulous, tiny mewl escapes you. A vexing little sound that heats your face and betrays your need.

His eyebrows quirk upward, “Inside?”

”Inside.” You nod earnestly.

Without warning, you’re filled with his middle and ring fingers. They search along your walls as his gaze clocks your expression until you cry out. “Right there, baby?” He pouts, mocking your whine. “Is that the spot?”

”Faster,” the blood in your veins is rushing at a feverish pitch, the taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue has broken you wide open.

“No,” he shushes, the soft pad of his thumb nudging at your clit “Nice and slow, sweetheart. Relax for me.”

You do your best and fill your lungs to the brim with air that smells of sex and him before releasing it slowly.

“Good girl, baby.” He praises, fucking you gingerly with his hand as if this is all either of you will ever do for the rest of your days…no rush. “When you cum, can this pretty princess make a mess?”

”Hmm?” You’re a million miles away, drifting through his sea, you’ve barely registered him speaking to you.

“If I make you cum,” he clarifies, pressing up into that place that makes you whimper and half-squirm away. He holds you down firmly, but with such tenderness. “Stay still, for me. If I make you cum just right will you soak my hand all sweet and warm?”

”I can’t…” you flush with inexplicable shame, “I don’t do that.”

”That’s alright…you just let me take care of you.” He sounds like he’s coddling a wounded bird just before he begins curling and massaging inside you with a tiny smirk on his face that seems to claim he knows something you don’t.

Never before has anyone’s touch dismantled you so perfectly, and you’re soaked and dripping; wet, heavenly sounds filling the room to mark your pleasure.

“No messes for my sweetheart? Just a neat and tidy little baby?” He taunts as your thighs begin to tremble, “I think you’re lying. maybe not with someone else, but I know you’ve worked this pretty, wet cunt just right…ruined your sheets, had to fight to stay quiet so no one would hear—“

With a cry that could be mistaken for agonized, you let go…barely there-tiny bursts of slick sprinkling across his palm like a spring mist. Were he a garden, he would bloom so beautifully under the kiss of your meager shower.

“There we go, sweetheart,” your eyes are locked in on his arm, watching the muscles turn and twist as if you’ve been hypnotized. “C’mon, just a little longer, relax, sweet girl, relax…”

It’s like lying in too-tall grass on a breezy day. Warm and gentle like an embrace, and his voice is ferrying you through it all so sweetly. How could she have ever given this up?

When you begin to tense against his ministrations, he pulls back delicately and pats the inside of your thigh, huffing the softest sigh of a laugh, “And you said no messes.”

“Jake,” your hands are instantly hiding your eyes, face sparking heat with a euphoric fluster.

“You did good, baby.” He whispers, kissing a path along your shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about that for a very long time.”

“Please,” your entire body is still inwardly writhing and you can’t manage much more.

“Please what?” His hand, so gentle and soft, drags yours downward to wrap your fingers around himself. He is thick, throbbing rhythmically, and so hard, “You want that?”

He sounds in control, but it’s all there for you in his eyes, he wants this badly. He needs this. He needs you…and not simply because it’s been months.

Grabbing his free hand from where it is resting beside your head against the mattress, you guide it down until his fingers are stroking delicately across you, wetting his touch, warm and silken, “You want that?”

He visibly falters, face ducking to find solace in the crook of your neck, “I want you,” he whispers so airily you aren’t even sure you’ve heard him, “I want you so fucking badly. Please, baby…”

His voice is hushed, dragging across your skin hot and wet, desperate and hungry, you couldn’t deny him even if you were crazy enough to want to.

“You don’t have to beg,” you promise, hands now petting through his hair. “You take what you need, Jake…it’s all for you.”

”I need to get off again first,” the words sigh warm against the shell of your ear, “I’m too close. You’re so pretty and warm, and you smell so good. My sweetheart.”

”Well, look who gets soft when he’s this hard.” You tease, gently stroking the cashmere tip of his cock against your clit. “You cum as fast as you need to, let me do this for you.”

Again, his beautiful face drops to hide away, mouth sucking chills into your throat.

“I don’t want to be that guy.” He confesses, sounding shy in a way you’ve never heard before. “I want to get you there, too.”

You reach down deep and find your nerve, “Is this a one time thing? It’s okay to say yes.”

At last, his stare finds yours, “I certainly fucking hope not.”

”So, you’ll owe me one.” You shrug with a cheeky smile to soothe his nerves.

”No.” he shocks you with a fervent shake of his head as he lines himself up, nudging in gently with his pillowy soft tip, “I’m gonna get you off, baby…right on my cock.”

Dirty fuck, who would’ve thought?

”Deeper, Jake,” you’re whining already, fingernails sinking into his shoulders to pull him in closer. “Fuck me.”

”Say it again.” He orders, kissing a path along your jaw.

”Fuck me,” you repeat as though you know nothing but how to follow him into the woods, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please…”

His cock is right there teasing at you, barely inside, working your entire body into a frenzy, you want it so badly.

”Please?” His nose Eskimo kisses yours, “You’re begging very sweetly. You sound like an angel.”

“Haven’t I begged enough?” The words pant out of you warm against his lips and that - the taste of your aching need, shoves him over the edge.

Hips rolling, he slides into you like he was made to fit. The stretch is a lovely, stinging heat that claws a blissful cry from deep within your lungs. It's his favorite sound, he decides in an instant, and he wants to listen to it for the rest of his life.

As if the two of your were created simply to share this together, he fits inside of you perfectly, nestling against that sweet, hidden spot over and over until your back has arched away from the sheets and your nails scratch at him for purchase.

”So soft and tight,” his praise is but a breath, “You feel so fucking good.”

”I’m close,” you whisper back, cunt gripping at him violently, “don’t stop.”

”Wait for me, sweetheart…” he sounds filthy and angelic all at once. “I’m almost there, just…fuck, just wait for me.”

”Inside,” have you even made a sound? “Do it inside, Jake.”

”Are you sure?” He slurs, drunk off of you and ready to melt.

”Yes,” you nod frantically against the pillow, knotting your hair, “Do it. Fucking do it.”

Lost for words, he replies with a growl that takes that tightened coil deep in your belly and snaps it into pieces.

”Oh fuck,” his body tenses against you, thrust losing rythym as you flutter and clench around his twitching cock. “Gonna cum, baby, yes…you feel so…fuck…”

You watch in awe as his face twists gorgeously, eyes rolling back before squeezing closed, lip curled into a delicious snarl - and then, with a drawn out groan of your name, he collapses against you, kissing gratitude and love against your throat until the tickle of his hair makes you giggle.

”Get off me,” you laugh, shoving at his shoulders tenderly as he rolls to his side, smiling prettily at you like a kid in a candy store.

”You have magic between those pretty thighs.” He sighs, smoothing your hair. “I’m gonna tear solos up about it. Write the dirtiest riffs and licks all about that perfect pussy.”

”You’re fucking disgusting,” you sigh back, attempting to chase down your breath, “and such a guy.”

He pulls you in close, tucking his body, slick and hot, into your own, “Shh, you love me.”

Maybe he doesn’t mean it that way, and maybe you don’t either, just yet…

…but maybe you will.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama

[bandsofmarv]

Forbidden

In which y/n potter is secretly dating mattheo riddle.

No warnings

The glow of the Gryffindor common room fire danced across the walls as you leaned closer to the parchment on your lap, pretending to focus on your Potions essay. In truth, your mind was elsewhere—on the boy with the dark curls and piercing eyes who had managed to worm his way into your heart. Mattheo Riddle.

It was a dangerous name to whisper, even more so to feel something for him. Yet here you were, sneaking glances at the clock, counting down the minutes until curfew when you’d slip out and meet him.

If Harry knew, he would lose his mind.

Your older brother had always been fiercely protective, but his hatred for Mattheo was on another level. Harry saw him as everything wrong with Slytherin—a cocky, sharp-tongued troublemaker with dangerous connections. And Mattheo’s reputation as Tom Riddle’s son didn’t help.

So you kept the relationship a secret. For now.

————————————————————————

The Astronomy Tower was empty, as usual, when you arrived. The December chill cut through your robes, but before you could shiver, a pair of warm arms wrapped around you from behind.

“You’re late,” Mattheo murmured, his breath tickling your ear.

You grinned and turned to face him. “Had to wait for Harry to stop hovering like a Dementor.”

Mattheo chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent warmth spiraling through you. “The Golden Boy really doesn’t like me, does he?”

“He doesn’t know you,” you countered, reaching up to brush a curl from his forehead. “Not like I do.”

“And he never will if we keep sneaking around like this,” Mattheo said, though there was no real anger in his tone. Only a quiet longing. “Don’t you ever get tired of hiding?”

You hesitated, guilt gnawing at you. “I hate it,” you admitted. “But I can’t hurt Harry like that. He—he’s been through so much. He wouldn’t understand.”

Mattheo’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “For you, I’ll wait. But he’s going to find out eventually.”

It happened sooner than you expected.

You were leaving the library, Mattheo’s hand brushing against yours as you both ducked into a quiet corridor, laughing softly about some joke he had made. Neither of you noticed the figure lurking in the shadows until it was too late.

“What the hell is this?”

The icy tone made your heart drop. You spun around to see Harry standing a few feet away, his wand clutched tightly in his hand, his green eyes blazing with fury.

“Harry, it’s not—” you began, but he cut you off.

“Not what it looks like?” he snapped. “Because it looks like my sister is sneaking around with him.” His glare shifted to Mattheo, who stood his ground, his expression unreadable.

“Harry, please—just listen,” you pleaded.

“Listen to what? That you’ve been lying to me? That you’re sneaking around with Riddle?” Harry’s voice cracked with anger. “Do you have any idea who he is? What his family has done?”

“Harry, I know who he is!” you shot back, your voice rising. “But he’s not his father! He’s not what you think!”

Mattheo stepped forward then, his voice calm but firm. “I love her, Potter.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Love? Don’t you dare talk to me about love. You’re just using her—”

“Stop it!” you yelled, stepping between them. “Mattheo isn’t using me. He cares about me—he’s been there for me in ways you wouldn’t understand.”

Harry’s expression twisted with a mix of hurt and betrayal. “I’m trying to protect you,” he said quietly.

“I don’t need protecting from him,” you replied just as softly.

For a moment, the three of you stood in silence, the tension crackling like electricity. Finally, Harry let out a bitter laugh and turned away. “Do what you want,” he said, his voice cold. “But don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

He walked away, leaving you and Mattheo alone in the corridor.

That night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, you wondered if Harry would ever forgive you. But when Mattheo found you the next day, his hand slipping into yours despite the glares from the Gryffindor table, you knew one thing for sure: some things were worth fighting for.

And you weren’t giving him up. Not for anyone.

[eetherealgoddess]

TR: ꨄYANDERE TOXIC BF HEADCANONSꨄ

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Characters are 18+

❦All I gotta say is NEVER try to leave these mfs❦

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Mikey: When you first got together, you honestly had no idea he returned the same feelings as you considering he always wore the same stoic expression whenever you were around. So focused on his family and friends he barely had enough time to spend with you.

Of course, you had no problem with this considering it was not only the beginning of your relationship but better for him to be stuck on family than other lovers. It only became a problem when he didn’t bother to make time with you at all. Not a hang out, date, nothing.

He barely texts and would leave you on delivered quite often. When you tried to initiate quality time, he would either have an excuse or ignore you. He never really showed you off and you doubt anyone would know about you if you hadn’t shown up to one or two meetings.

You wondered why he even accepted your proposal to be his girlfriend in the first place if he didn’t really want you. Finally, tired of everything, you decided to break up with him, face - to - face.

“You’re breaking up with me?” He questions with disbelief. “Yes, Mikey. I do have feelings for you, but this just isn’t working out like I thought it would.” You explained, disappointed with how things turned out.

“You can’t break up with me. I thought you loved me, Y/n. You can’t leave me.” His eyes narrow as he shoves you against the wall. Your eyes widen in shock as your back hits against the hard surface. “M-Mikey, what’s wrong with you? I thought this would be something you wanted!” His hands tighten around your shoulders, nails piercing through the fabric as you wince from the penetration of your skin.

“You’re mine, Y/n.” You had no idea what all he went through to get you to notice him. First, he had to get rid of your ex boyfriend. When threatening him didn’t work, his gang jumped him, beating him to a pulp. Hence the break up text. Honestly, if your ex hadn’t given in, it would’ve been his own death sentence. Next, was ‘accidentally’ meeting you just after the break up, catching you when you’re vulnerable enough to fall for any kind of attention. Third, getting you to chase him by the ‘hot and cold’ behavior. Giving you a little just to give you absolutely nothing in return so you keep yearning for him.

He was so happy when you asked him out, non stop talking about you to all of his friends and family. His plan worked perfectly, until now. “This doesn’t make any sense, Mikey!” You cried out in confusion and slight fear. “It’s not hard, Y/n. I love you and you’re my girlfriend.” He releases you with a smile, gazing at the concerned expression on your face. He gently grabs your hand. “I forgive you.” He brings your hand to his lips and leaves a peck. You begin to question his insanity as well as your own.

Kazutora: “If you actually loved me you’d let it go!” He says, tears threatening to fall out of his eyes as he blocks you from slamming your bedroom door against his face. “If you actually loved me then you wouldn’t have cheated on me, Kazu!” You yell angrily as you wipe your tears. You cross your arms as you glare at your boyfriend who’s about to be your ex.

“I didn’t cheat on you! You’re overreacting! We didn’t even have sex!” You scoff. “So I guess I can just flirt with my exes and then complain about our relationship to them, huh?” He glares with tears in his eyes. “It’s your fault for not paying attention to me, Y/n. I wouldn’t have to ask for affection if you’d give me enough.” He crosses his own arms. You stare back in disbelief.

“Are you seriously trying to make excuses for emotionally cheating on me with your ex?” “It’s not excuses when it’s the truth. I just wished you loved me as much as I love you. You clearly don’t care about me otherwise you’d give me attention.” You hold your hands up. “I’m fucking done.” You say before walking out of the bedroom. His eyes widen as his heart begins to pound.

“Done with what?” He follows after you. “Done with you!” You growl as you grab the doorknob. Before you can open the door, you’re yanked back so roughly that you fall on your ass, staring at the man crawling on top of you and pinning you down as the tears spill out of his eyes.

“Y-you can’t leave me, Y/n. You won’t! I love you so fucking much! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t leave so don’t break my heart. I don’t know what I would do.” You stop yourself from crying with him, gazing at his pretty, pitiful face. No, I can’t fall for it.

“No, get off of me.” You hiss. You furrow your brows as his face becomes stoic with wide wet eyes. He wraps his hands around your neck, your hands grabbing his wrists as he shuts off your air supply. You struggle to breathe as you kick your feet, barely moving under him as you try to shove him off, to no avail.

“Baby, I don’t want to kill you, but if you don’t show me that we can work this out then I’ll have no choice. It’ll be so romantic, you and me. You die by my hands and I die right after so we can lie here together.” You immediately nod your head.

“W-we can!” You croak out, finally gaining a huge breath of oxygen once he releases you and wraps his arms around your body, hugging you tightly. You cough as the tears finally spill.

“Tell me you love me, I need to hear it please.” He cries against your shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses up your neck. “I love you.” He rocks you both as he kisses your forehead. “Good. Good. I’m so glad because I love you too.”

Ran: You couldn’t believe how your boyfriend Ran would blatantly flirt with different people in front of your face. It didn’t matter if it was a cashier, waitress, waiter, your friends, his friends, anyone who was around he would begin to flirt with them as you watch angrily. What makes it worse is that, he doesn’t seem to care much when you react. He just gives you that sly smile and says, “You jealous?” Otherwise he’ll pretend he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.

At the beginning of your relationship, it didn’t matter so much considering you only just began dating and neither of you knew how serious it would turn out so you didn’t want to be ‘overbearing,’ even though deep down you knew that it’s not you overreacting but it just goes to show how little respect he has for you. Especially since you’re a year into the relationship, and you’re currently on a date with your boyfriend and apparently the waitress who just decided to sit in the same booth.

You missed the way his eyes would peek over to see exactly how you were feeling, finding delight in the fact that you were so bothered over his attention focusing on someone else. It was his own little experiment. Considering he loves attention, specifically from you, it really sends blood to his cock to see your angry face. The fact that you would get so mad that you would yell at him afterwards only turned him on. He gets off to seeing you angry, upset, whatever as long as it’s toward him. And you continuously take it because you can’t get enough of him.

Finally, you shoot up from the table and walk off, walking towards his car. He follows you, hopping into the driver’s seat as you sit with your arms crossed in the passenger’s seat. He begins to drive you to his apartment, holding back his smirk.

“I think we should break up.” His grip on the wheel tightened, his eyes narrowing before he glances at you. “No you don’t.” You turn to him. “You can’t tell me how I feel. Take me to my apartment. I’m tired of your behavior. You wanna flirt with everyone so bad then you can be single.”

There was a moment of silence, a pause of pondering as he stares at the road. This wasn’t a part of the plan. This has never happened before. Usually you let it go after an argument and you both make up in the bedroom. “We’re done, for good.” Something snaps in him, squinting his eyes as he slams on the brakes in the middle of the road, your body thrown against the seatbelt as your eyes widen. You grab onto the door as you look at him. “What the fuck, Ran?”

He then slams on his gas pedal and takes a different turn, taking the interstate and accelerating the speed as his foot presses the gas pedal. “RAN! SLOW DOWN!” You scream in terror as you watch his speed go from 40 to 100 within seconds, only continuing to go higher as he passes the cars, purposefully going lane to lane to make it worse for you.

“Not until you take it back.” You gasp. “Are you fucking crazy? You’re gonna kill us!” He chuckles before frowning and glancing at you. “Doesn’t matter if you don’t take it back.” “Ran, please!” You cry as you see his speed reaching 130. “Take it fucking back, Y/n.” He growls. “I take it back! I take it back! Please, just slow down! I-I made a mistake just, please!” Finally, he gradually slows down, hitting his brakes as you breathe heavily, body still trembling when he finally slows down to five over the speed limit.

“Let’s head home so we can rest, yeah?” You nod your head, gripping the seat as you look ahead.

Rin: You’re so tired of the constant nitpicking of your flaws. You’re tired of receiving insults by the person who’s supposed to love every part of you. You have the understanding that obviously, just stating an opinion or giving critique to something is fine but when someone is just outright picking every single thing they can see wrong with you, it can be overwhelming.

Then when you try to leave they make you feel like you can’t live without them. How can you handle everything on your own when you can’t even handle little things. You’re a bit of a dimwit who can’t do things on your own so how would you be able to survive without the help of your generous boyfriend?

Rin makes you feel like you’re holding him back. He takes the time out of his day to help you out. To be there for you. How could someone like him go out of his way to help someone as low as you? Who else would deal with you. Who else would be there to help and protect you? Who else would be there to look after you because clearly you can’t look out for yourself.

Of course, your friends tell you how it’s all an illusion and he’s manipulating you. You believe them, but you believe him as well. Until, finally you decided that you didn’t want to feel like shit anymore. So you ask him to come to your apartment.

“Rin, I don’t like the way you make me feel. I love you, but I don’t think that this is working out.” One of his eyebrows raise as he leans back in his seat on the chair in the living room, taking a sip of his beverage and readjusting his glasses. “You think I like the way you make me feel? You think you can just use me and leave, Y/n?” Your eyes widen. “N-no! It’s not like that! I never used you.” “Oh? How did you get everything you own now? How did you get the clothes you’re wearing, the money in your bank account, the apartment you couldn’t afford if it wasn’t for me?” He smirks.

You could only stare as you pause in thought. Damn, have I been using him? But I never asked for any help and I was grateful and I truly love him. Have I been so mindless? So unaware? “You really hurt my feelings, babe. How could you do this to me?” He questions, his smirk turning to a stoic gaze. “Rin, it’s not like that, seriously. Look, I just want to be treated better. So we can’t be together anymore.” He sets the cup down, gripping the chair arms as he sits up in his seat, his arms resting on his legs when he releases.

“This isn’t over until I say it’s over. After all, you need me. You should be happy that I’m willing to stay with you after everything you’ve put me through.” “But-!” “Look, I’m going to give you some space to breathe and then we’re going to go on a date. It’s okay, Y/n. Really. I forgive you.” “Rin, I’m serious! I-I’m breaking up with you.”

You yelp as you duck your head just as the glass shatters from the cup, liquid oozing down the wall behind you. You look at him with your mouth agape. He stands up, brushing himself off with a bored look on his face. “I’m gonna pick you up at seven o’clock. Be ready for me, yeah?” He says, giving you a side eyed glance before walking to your front door and walking out, shutting the door behind him as you’re left gazing at the space in front of you in shock.

Sanzu: “Sanzu, I can’t do this anymore. I-I’m not cut out for your kind of lifestyle.” Those were the last words you got to say before you found yourself hiding in the mess of clothes from your closet after you heard the glass shatter from one of the windows in your apartment. You thought a phone call would suffice considering you know how your former boyfriend gets so you could be at a distance.

When the line went dead, you knew that you might’ve fucked up. What you didn’t expect was for him to already be at your apartment. You had no idea why or when he came over but he had been hiding somewhere outside considering the shot rang only seconds after the call. Scared out of your mind, you could barely think, running to your closet knowing that you would be dragged out soon. You accidentally dropped your phone in the living room so you couldn’t call anyone for help.

Somehow you still love this pretty maniac, though you just couldn’t bear with the guilt of knowing that you’re with a murderer. You had only just found out about his body count recently when you got curious enough to look in his phone. At this point you would’ve rather had found him cheating, though you found old files and information on it, realizing that it was actually his work phone. You had no idea he works for Bonten.

He completely lied to you about his whereabouts and place of work. He acted normal, as if he had never killed anyone. How could he be okay with himself? How could you still want him? You fought yourself on whether or not you should pretend you didn’t know anything, which you tried, only for the guilt to eat you alive. Especially when you snooped in his office when visiting his home and saw the terrible ways he murdered the victims. Those same hands touched you every day.

You jolt as you hear the door to your room being kicked off of its hinges. Before you knew it, the closet door swung open revealing the pretty man in all his madness, an angry look on his face. You scream as he shoves all the clothes off of you and snatches you out by the bicep, gun still in one of his hands.

“SANZU PLEASE!” You scream as he throws you on the bed. He crawls on top of you, setting the barrel of the gun to your head while his other hand wraps his fingers around your throat.

“Shh, shh. It’s fine. It’s okay. Just breathe.” He cooed as you listen, breathing heavily as you try to calm down, not wanting to get shot. “You’re so beautiful like this, Angel. Stop crying, okay?” You whimper as you try to hold in your cries, anxiety high as you stare into his crazed eyes. “That’s my good girl.” He smiles.

“You’re gonna keep being good for me, yeah?” You nod your head frantically, tears still falling as you continue to hold in your whines. You wince as the gun cocks, his finger against the trigger. “You didn’t say what I think you said, right? You’re not breaking up with me?” You shook your head. “N-no I’m not, I just freaked out. We’re still together, I swear!” He nods as he removes the gun, though with the weapon still in his hand, he pulls you up by the face and gives you a passionate kiss. Moving his lips against yours as you fearfully kiss him back, his tongue entering your mouth to explore as saliva drips down your chin. He pulls back and leans his forehead on yours.

“It’s good that you know who you belong to.”

[thevoidstaredback]

Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools:

Letters Between Brothers

Dear Damian Wayne, Dec. 19, 2011

There really isn’t a good way to say any of this, especially via a letter. If I’m being completely honest, which I am, I would much rather be saying this to you in person. For both our safety, though, this was the best way I found to contact you.

First off, congratulations on being brought into the Wayne household! I never would’ve considered imagining that Bruce Wayne would be our father, but, here we are. Unless you’re there undercover? I doubt that, though.

Now, I should probably cut to the chase, no matter how much I want to stall. You might not remember me, but I’m your brother. Don’t freak out! Please, just finish reading this, at least. If you don’t believe me or you don’t want to ever talk to or see me again, then that’s fine. I completely understand.

You probably hate me, and I don’t blame you, but I couldn’t stay there. When we got separated on that mission, I ended up nearly killed. Some civilians found me and took me to a hospital to get my injuries treated. I realized, after I woke up, that this was the life I wanted. Leaving you hurt me so much more than I could ever describe in any language, but going back to Grandfather and Mother was a death sentence. I hated doing that to you, but I couldn’t do that to myself.

God, I suck at this.

I love you, Dami, I really do. I’ve wanted, for years, to come back to you, but I didn’t because I’m a coward. A selfish coward who can’t even face his own brother properly.

Forgiveness is a luxury I have no right to ask you of, but I’m going to anyway. So, can you? Can you ever forgive me for leaving you alone? Can you ever forgive me for leaving you  to think I died? Can you ever forgive me for making you go back to that place alone? Can you forgive me for being so selfish?

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you then, and I don’t mean to hurt you now. I’m beyond ecstatic that you made it out. I’m so happy that you’re with father now. I hope you never have to go back to Nanda Parbat ever again.

شكراً لكونك أخي

          Danyal ‘Danny’ Fenton

        ��     (xxx) xxx-xxxx

***

There was a time that Danny only ever referred to as Before. Before he’d come to America; Before he’d been taken in by the Fenton Family; Before he’d lost himself to the life he’d never envisioned. He could remember it well.

*

He’d grown up in Nanda Parbat , high in the Himalayan Mountains. Beautiful buildings made of golden sandstone bricks, roofs made of the redist clay shingles, untouched snow for as far as the eye could see, and mountain peaks stretching high above the little valley.

There were greenhouses, too, filled with plants of all kinds from everywhere! Food, poisons, antidotes, it was all grown in Nanda Parbat. Clean water was pulled from the wells and the snow as though nature herself was giving her best to this one place. Truly a heaven on earth. The Garden of Eden, some people called it.

The residents were known to very few, only ever coming down when they found themselves with visitors. The towns at the base of the mountain ranges had plenty of legends about the People of the Mountains, but even fewer still knew their real secrets.

The League of Assassins, founded by Ra’s al Ghul himself, had made Nanda Parbat their home base, though neither Ra’s nor his daughter, Talia, made a habit of staying for too long or visiting often. No, Nanda Parbat had been claimed to raise the heirs and guard the Lazarus Pits.

Danny had been born in those very halls, buried deep within the protective embrace of the mountains, mere minutes after his brother. He knew nothing but Nanda Parbat, half convinced that his instructors were lying about the outside world. After all, could it really exist if he’d never seen it?

Grandfather and Mother came by thrice a year. Once to check on or use the Lazarus Pits, once to check on the Demon Heirs, and once to instruct lessons of their own. It was how it had always been done, so Danyal and Damian knew nothing else.

Grandfather would tell tales of conquest, instructing them on how to mold their very surroundings to their wills. Mother shared her missions, warning against how others would try and use them to get to her and Grandfather, seeing them as the weakest link. Damian and Danyal taught each other, on the nights when they could escape prying eyes, the importance of secrets. No one to trust but yourself, both Grandfather and Mother had pushed, anyone will betray you when given the right incentive.

The day came when Mother and Grandfather came to check on the Pits. The week-long stay had been the same every year, but their instructors had announced a change. Danyal would be going with Mother while Damian would be going with Grandfather. They would return to continue their studies in Nanda Parbat by the next full moon.

Danny had been excited. He was going to the outside world! He’d never been there before! He’d only ever seen pictures of it! Such fun! The only disappointment he held was that he was not going to share the moments with Damian. Yes, they would be leaving together, but they wouldn’t be together. Mother and Grandfather stayed at separate bases, after all.

The night before they were set to depart their Himalayan Paradise, Danyal had snuck to the roof with his brother.

“I’m scared, ahki,” he whispered, the wind hiding his voice from all but his brother.

“Don’t be, ahki,” Damian had assured, “You will be with Mother. She will keep you safe.”

“But the instructors say that we will be on our own!” Danyal said, “Besides, I do not know Mother.”

Damian did not pause. “Of course you know Mother. She gave us life. She teaches us.”

“Yes, but I don’t know her. I know you, and I know the birds, but I do not know Mother nor Grandfather.”

“Perhaps,” Damian had suggested, “we do not need to know them as we know each other? Perhaps, we only need to know that Grandfather is Ra’s al Ghul and the Mother is Talia al Ghul.”

“Then that means you’re Damian al Ghul!” Danny smiled, emotion his instructors had tirelessly trained out of him bleeding into the privacy shared between him and his brother.

Damian nodded, “And you are Danyal al Ghul.” A beat. “We will be fine tomorrow and the day after and the days to follow. When we return to Nanda Parbat, we will sit in this very spot and share our adventures.”

“Tales of conquest?” Danyal asked.

“Warnings of fools.” Damian responded.

*

A tale as old as the dirt beneath his feet. Before had been five years ago. So long in the past, but only a few pages back. Sometimes, it was as though he’d never left Before behind him. His training, for all that it was minimal in his limited time within the snow valley, was carved into his very soul. Not even the wear of time could pull him away from a weapon or the scan for immediate exit points or the caution when dealing with new people and places.

Jazz had explained to him that his responses to certain situations should not be that cautious or violent. She’d tried again and again to tell him that he was safe; that he wasn’t where he had been Before.

He knew that, obviously. Nanda Parbat was free of the disgusting urbanization of the modern world. This place was free of the untouched beauty of the hidden gems. He could see the beauty in the contradictions and in what he had been taught to scorn, he was not an idiot, but he could not appreciate it the way people born there could.

*

The Doctors Fenton, only Masters in their fields at the time, had picked him up at the base of the Italian Appalachian Mountains. They’d treated his wounds, introduced him to their daughter Jazz, and given him the opportunity to escape where he had been.

The Fentons had taken his hesitation as confusion for the situation; amnesia. They told him, as gently as they could, that all signs pointed to an abusive home. They wanted to help him get out as soon as they could.

But, that wasn’t right. Danny, in all his six years, knew exactly what an abusive relationship was. It was one of the things his Mother had taught him about when he’d first left Nanda Parbat with her when he was four! He didn’t come from an abusive home or an abusive relationship! Damian would never put him through that, and the ninja all knew better than to do anything untoward to him and Damian.

“And what about your parents?” Jazz, being only eight years old, had not held her tongue as Danny had been taught to. “Or any other adults?”

Now that, that was definitely a thought. But, no. No one within the confines of Nanda Parbat or within the League of Shadows as a whole had ever hurt him outside of training. The injuries they had treated were from a mission, not from his Grandfather or Mother or brother hurting him!

*

His attempts at clearing the misunderstanding had been brushed off as his imagination trying to protect him. Repressing and changing trauma, Jazz had translated.

He had thought, at the time, that everyone was wrong. He had come from a perfectly normal place! Though, the week he spent in the hospital had him second guessing. He was the only one looking for every possible exit in case of any possible situation at any given time. He was the only one prepared to slit the throats of everyone in the room if they got in the way of his escape. He was the only one to actively check for weapons to use or be used against him.

During his stay in the hospital, because they wouldn’t let him leave before he was cleared by the doctors who worked there, the Fentons had exposed him to many things that made him question his upbringing. But, now that he knew the truth, he’d never be able to go back.

The Fentons had promised him, the night before he was cleared to go, that they would help him stay away from the people who had hurt him, so long as he allowed them to. And how could he not accept? Too many questions had invaded his mind. The only way to answer them was to do as his Mother had taught him: learn from experience. So, he relented, leaning into the ‘trauma induced amnesia’ everyone had assumed he had, and went along with the Fenton Family.

But what about Damian? Surely, he was safe. Surely, he’d gotten back to Nanda Parbat and reported to Grandfather and Mother that Danyla had been killed! He could not go back, not yet. And maybe, a tiny, selfish part  of him that he hid in the darkest corners of his brain, was glad he wouldn’t be going back for any reason. To make himself feel better, he’d told himself that he’d go back for Damian once he was sure he wouldn’t be caught and killed for treason.

The plans laid within the floorboards under his bed with the katana and daggers the Fentons had let him keep.

Exactly four months after turning ten, Danny had turned on the TV. It was just to provide white noise while his adoptive parents were out, so he didn’t really care about the channel. Jazz hadn’t cared, either. If she had, she hadn’t said anything.

The channel had been one for national news. The covered story was in Gotham, New Jersey. Not unusual, but concerning until none of the names of the city’s rogues had been named. Bruce Wayne was holding a gala to officially introduce his youngest son to the world. That is what dragged Danny to sit and watch attentively.

Danny knew the name Bruce Wayne very well. His Mother had told him, no less than six times, that he was to go to Bruce Wayne if he ever found himself in a situation where the League of Shadows couldn’t help him. Bruce Wayne was his go-to if he ever needed because he is his father.

When Danny first met the Fentons, something had kept him from escaping. He could have, but he didn't. Something had compelled him to stay. That same something had told him to avoid Bruce Wayne when he was ten. That same something was now telling him to go to his father.

Danny didn’t listen to that something. Instead, he watched his brother stand beside their father and his other children. He followed his brother’s public persona studiously. When he pieced together Damian being Robin, meaning that Bruce Wayne was likely Batman, he followed his vigilante life, too. All the while, he was too much of a coward to actually reach out to them.

After all, what would they get out of having a relationship with him? He was a traitor to the Shadows, dead by all accounts that mattered. They already had an established family, so why would they want Danny? So, he stayed away.

It wasn’t until the week before his and Damian’s eleventh birthday that he finally managed to write a letter to his older brother. He timed it so that the letter would arrive the day of their birthday. A part of him hoped that Damian would get, read, and respond to the letter. A bigger part of him hoped that it would be lost amongst the birthday cards that were surely being sent to Damian now that he was living with their father.

Damian’s father. Danny already had a father. Well, a dad. He also had a mom and a sister. He even had an aunt! Not to mention the friend he made. He’s never had a friend before! So, yeah. Danny had a mom, a dad, a sister, and a friend. He wanted Damian, but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up. If Damian didn’t want him, then that meant that he wouldn’t have a brother or Grandfather or Mother or a father. Or three more brothers, apparently. He couldn’t really find it in himself to be upset about any potential loss that wasn’t Damian.

*

“Please respond, please respond, please respond!” Danny chanted under his breath as he opened the mailbox. There were four letters inside, three for his parents and one for his sister. “La naiba!” he swore.

“What’s wrong?” Jazz asked as she came up behind him. She’d learned early on that it was near impossible to sneak up on him.

Danny shoved the three envelopes into her hands. “There’s nothing there for me.”

“Why would there be anything in there for you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Did you order something without telling mom or dad?”

He scoffed. “No. I sent a letter and I’m waiting for a response.”

Her head tilted to the left slightly. “When’d you send it?”

“Three days ago.”

“There’s no way you’re ever gonna get a response in three days.” She scolded lightly, leading the way into the house, “Just be patient.”

He followed her. “Easy for you to say!”

“Who’d you send it to anyway?”

“None of your business.”

Jazz turned on him, her expression as unimpressed as a twelve year old could be. Slowly, and without breaking eye contact, she raised her right eyebrow and tilted her head to the left again and slightly forward. When that didn’t get her what she wanted, she crossed her arms, her feet planted firmly in place. She’d picked up several things since Danny was brought into the family. This was one of them.

Danny hated it when Jazz did this. She reminded him so much of Damian that he had nearly cried the first few times she’d taken this exact stance to get what she wanted. Was it an older sibling thing? Regardless, it wasn’t very long before he cracked. “Okay, fine! But we talk in my room, okay?”

She smiled, losing the pose and opening the front door. “I can work with that. Do you want a snack?”

“Sure,” he huffed. He’d meet her in his room. If she wanted answers, she was going to have to bribe him. It was a subtle tactic, one that didn’t work because it wasn’t really bribery if he was already going to do what she wanted, but he needed to make himself feel better about it somehow.

It took exactly five minutes and thirteen seconds for Jazz to enter Danny’s room with some chips, crackers, and bottled waters from the pantry. Not that he was counting. They set up camp in the middle of the floor, the snacks on the floor between them and their homework set out to work on. Whether either of them would use the paper distraction was yet to be determined, but it had become common practice to have a distraction when a conversation seemed like it would take more than a few minutes. And this was definitely one of those conversations.

As soon as they were both settled, Danny took a deep and obvious breath. “I didn’t ever have amnesia.”

Jazz blinked. “What?”

What a way to start, Danny. Another breath. “When you guys first found me, the doctors said I had amnesia; that my brain locked away the memories of Before because I couldn’t handle the stress of it. I went along with it because that seemed like the best course of action at the time. But, I didn’t lose my memories. I still had them. I still have them.” He didn’t look up from the floor.

Jazz leaned forward and took a chip out from the bowl and popped it in her mouth, the crunch of her chewing doing nothing to cut the tension in the room. She swallowed. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? We could’ve had the people who hurt you arrested!”

Danny shook his head. “No. I…I thought, when I was growing up with Grandfather and Mother, that everyone was raised like that. It was all I knew. But then you guys found me and took me to the hospital and suddenly, things weren’t adding up. I decided to go with you guys because I knew I couldn’t return to Grandfather and Mother with my thoughts all messed up like that.”

To her credit, Jazz was taking this all in stride. She took another chip. “Why didn’t you leave when you got your thoughts all sorted out?”

“Honestly?” he huffed, “I realized that I didn’t want to live that life anymore.”

“Then why keep the weapons?”

“Would you believe me if I said ‘sentimental value’?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

They let silence reign over them again for a bit, focusing on their homework and eating the food set out between them. Finally, after they were both finished, Jazz put her things back in her backpack and leaned against the wall behind her, taking the bowl of chips and a water bottle with her. “What was it like, your home Before?”

Danny smiled and slipped his own things away, leaning against his bed with the bowl of crackers and his own bottle of water. This was a topic he could talk about for hours. “I was born in Pakistan, in the Himalayan Mountains, specifically. Very secluded. My brother and I were the only two kids there.”

“Brother?”

“Yeah, his name’s Damian. He’s older than me by a few minutes.”

“Why wasn’t he with you when we found you?”

“Because we got separated.”

“Do we need to go find him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s with our father now.”

“Is he the one you sent the letter to?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” A beat. “Tell me more about where you were born?”

“Sure,” he smiled, “It’s a valley of snow, nestled between peaks in the Pakistanian end of the Himalayan Mountain Range. The buildings were all connected by roofed gravel walkways, yellow sandstone bricks and red clay shingles and dark wood pillars and floors and doors. The green houses were always my favorite. Any plant you could possibly think of was probably grown there! Damian always preferred the stables and pasture, though. He got along better with animals than actual people, I was the exception. When the weather was good, we’d take our lessons outside. If the weather was bad, then we’d study in the arena or the library.

“Sometimes, whenever Grandfather or Mother came to visit, they’d tell us stories about their adventures. My favorite stories, though, were of how Mother met my father and their adventures together. Grandfather doesn’t like those stories, though. He doesn’t like my father much.

“Me and Damian were the only kids there, so we had to play with each other. There weren’t any games we could play because adults are boring, so we made stuff up as we went along. Sometimes, we’d sneak into the stables and pet the horses! Other times, we’d sneak out of our rooms and climb to the roof to watch the stars.

“The stars were so pretty there! They’re the same stars that we see here, but they were so much brighter in Pakistan; more visible, y’know? The sky was so clear and it was so quiet- One of the people staying there gave me a book about the stars before he left.”

“Is that what started your fascination with space?” Jazz asked.

Danny nodded, “Yeah, it was. Damian would listen to me retell the same stories for hours whenever we climbed to the roof, but he never asked me to stop. I don’t think he ever looked at them and saw what I saw, though.”

“What did you see when you looked at the stars?”

“I saw something just barely out of my reach that I know I could grab if I was just a little bit taller, a little bit stronger, a little bit better.”

“Is that what you see now?”

“No.”

“Oh, then what do you see now?”

“I see the past, and I see a hope for the future.” He paused. “It was a competition between me and Dami, trying to be better than each other because whoever was the best was Grandfather’s and Mother’s favorite.”

She frowned. “You guys were kids! You shouldn’t’ve had to compete for attention like that!”

“I know that now,” he shot back, “But we didn’t then. We were raised to compete with everyone to hold Grandfather’s and Mother’s attention and favor. If we lost it, if we did anything that Grandfather deemed unworthy of the family name, then we were punished.”

“That’s horrible.”

“I know, but it’s what we knew.” A beat. “It was a big family, so not everyone stayed at the one compound.” The League was very far from being a family, but it’s the best way to describe it without exposing it to anyone. “Me and Damian were born and raised in the main compound in Pakistan. Grandfather, the head of the family, stayed and led from a compound in China. Mother stayed at a compound in Bangladesh. When we were four, I went and spent a month with Mother and Damian went and spent a month with Grandfather before we were sent back to Pakistan. When we turned five, I went with Grandfather and Damian went with Mother. When we turned six, we were both sent to spend time with family here in the states. I got separated from Damian and-”

“-me and mom and dad found you.” Jazz finished for him.

“Yep.”

“But, how did you get so hurt?”

Before he could answer, the front door burst open, their parents announcing their arrival carrying through the house. “A story for another time, I guess,” he shrugged.

Jazz wasn’t happy to have been interrupted, but she didn’t push. Instead, she took the empty bowls and went downstairs to greet their parents.

Danny leaned his head back against his bed, lost in the memories of his time with his brother. He wishes that Damian would send a reply already. He had remembered to put a return address, right? Maybe he should’ve just used the house’s address instead of setting up that PO box in the next town over! It’s not like anyone ever claimed to be reliable delivery persons!

Waiting was always the worst part of anything. Waiting for Grandfather to speak when he’d called an audience; waiting for Mother to tell them the end of her story; waiting for the guards to show any weak point to sneak past; waiting for a mission to start. It was always agonizing.

*

The morning was cold. Colder than it had been, but not as cold as it could be. Unfortunately, the cold meant snow. Snow meant that it was way too bright outside. And, despite it not being the morning of a school day, Jazz had elected to wake Danny up at the horrible time of six-thirty in the morning. Later than the normal five-forty-five, but still way too early to reasonably be awake. Honestly, Danny had thought he was done with getting up with the sun, but Jazz had proved him wrong time and time again for nearly five years now.

She pulled the curtains open, letting in the light from the sun that reflected off the white embodiment of cold. When that only caused him to burrow deeper into his three blankets and two pillows and his dog plush, Jazz decided to pull all three layers off of him.

“Hey!” he yelped, falling off the bed with a thud. “What the heck!”

Jaz dropped the blankets with a smile. “Rise and shine sleeping beauty! Mom and dad are in the lab again-”

“Another ‘breakthrough’?”

“-so I’m making breakfast! What do you want?”

Danny groaned and pulled himself off the floor, resetting the blankets on his bed in a mock of making it look neat. “Something warm.”

“How does hot chocolate and pancakes sound?”

“Can I have coffee instead?”

“No.”

“Dang.”

Jazz shook her head and left the room. “Don’t go back to sleep, okay? I wanna go to the library today.” She didn’t close the door behind her.

“Isn’t it closed today?” he called into the hall.

“Tomorrow!”

“Ah.” He closed the door himself, letting out a small puff of air. Turning to the room at large with his hands on his hips, Danny sighed. It was gonna be a long day. The first thing he did was straighten out his bed so it looked properly not slept in. Just as Mother had taught him. Then, he changed from his pajamas and into some jeans and a long sleeve shirt. Leaving his room, he made his way to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, only really bothering to push a hand through his hair. Not at all like Mother had taught him, but he really didn’t care right now.

Danny made his way down the stairs sluggishly. He’d never been a morning person, much preferring to stay awake until the early hours of the morning watching stars, but he’d had to hide that little quirk when he was with Grandfather and Mother. He’d realized, about half a year after the Fentons picked him up, that he didn’t need to hide his preference for night over day. Infact, his mom encouraged it! She let him sit up on the roof and stargaze until one or two in the morning before forcing him to bed. And then Jazz got into the habit of waking him at six in the morning for school. He’s definitely run on less sleep than four-ish hours, but he’d rather get as much as he can, which is what breaks are for! Unfortunately, Jazz has it in her head that he has to get up at the same time every day without fail, lest he irreparably mess up his sleeping schedule.

With a groan, he plopped down on his chair - in a bout of pettiness a year and a half after arriving, he carved his name into the wood of the backrest - at the table and laid his head down. His sister worked efficiently on the pancakes as the water for their hot chocolate boiled in the electric kettle.

The two sat and worked in a quiet peace. Jazz’s bustling around the kitchen faded into the background as white noise with the constant hum of electricity throughout the house and the occasional controlled explosion from the basement lab. It was well fortified, so the house wasn’t in danger.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes of laying on the table with his eyes closed, Jazz put a plate by Danny’s head, a mug of hot chocolate with a candy cane beside it. Then, she sat opposite him with her own food.

“Thanks,” he mumbled groggily, pulling the food and drink towards him.

“You’re welcome.” Jazz said around a bite.

Danny would be the first to admit that Jazz wasn’t the best cook, but he was also the first to praise her cooking. Jack Fenton couldn’t make anything, that wasn’t fudge, for the life of him. Any food he tries to make, somehow turns to fudge. Kind of like King Midas’ Golden Touch. Maddie Fenton was a pretty good cook, when she remembered to actually feed herself and her family. She could make cookies worthy of the gods, though. Whenever the Fenton parents weren’t in their basement lab for one reason or another, they ordered takeout to eat with their kids. Those times were, unfortunately, few and far between.

Finishing his meal, Danny was wide awake, the food doing wonders for waking him. And, while the caffeine in chocolate was nothing compared to the coffee his dad would sometimes let him drink, there was just enough to wake him up just a bit more. Don’t tell Jazz, though, or she might take away chocolate, too.

“Do you,” he hesitated, the words caught in his throat for a moment, “Do you think mom and dad will be up to celebrating this year?”

When he was seven, he learned that the Fentons didn’t celebrate any holiday, no matter what it was. They had up until Jazz was five, but then work became more important. Jack and Maddie had claimed breakthroughs in their research, pushing everything and everyone aside if it or they didn’t directly help their life’s work.

That same year, he’d been trying to acclimate himself better. One of the biggest things in American culture is holidays, so he decided to ask to celebrate Christmas. It was mainstream and was derived from one of the only holidays he was allowed to celebrate back in Nanda Parbat.

Jack and Maddie had agreed, of course, and he and Jazz had pulled out all the old decorations to dress the house. When December twenty-fourth came around, though, their parents had gotten into a huge fight about whether to tell Danny and Jazz that Santa wasn’t real. Jack had said it was a right of passage for little kids to figure it out all on their lonesome, while Maddie had argued that she wasn’t going to let her children believe in fairy tales that parents tell to get their kids to sleep faster. They were loud enough that Jazz and Danny had both heard every word.

The two tried, every holiday, to get their parents to spend time with them, at least, but it failed every time. Something or other aways came up.

“I don’t know, Danny,” she sighed, putting her fork on her now empty plate, “You can try, but I doubt it.” She’d given up last year, right around the time that she’d picked up on reading parenting books.

Danny didn’t say anything. He simply stood and gathered the dishes, taking them to the sink to be washed before putting them away. The dishwasher had been ripped apart and repurposed for parts in the lab.

“I know that you want to celebrate like the other kids in town,” Jazz said from the table, “but mom and dad are way too focused right now. Mom mentioned something about working on the portal some more.”

Danny put the cup down carefully, a loud click sounding through the kitchen. With a controlled breath, he closed his eyes and turned off the tap. “There were exactly two holidays that me and my brother were allowed to celebrate when we were children. Christmas is taken from one of those holidays. Forgive me for just wanting to share a piece of that with them.”

He could feel Jazz’s sad gaze on his back. “What holidays?”

“Forget it,” he shook his head, “Let’s just go to the library.”

She let it drop. “It doesn’t open for a few more hours.”

He started up the stairs. “Then come get me when it’s time to go.” Danny ignored Jazz’s responding sigh as he walked up to his room. Closing the door behind him, he grabbed some paper and a pencil.

In Nanda Parbat, one of the instructors was set to teach Danny and his brother the Fine Arts. From writing to painting to instruments to acting. All so that they could adapt to any mold for any mission. Because they were the heirs, the Demon Twins of the monster that was the organization, they were expected to be perfect. Anything less was punished.

Damian had always excelled at the Arts, especially drawing and its counterparts. He could work with any median, but charcoal had always been his favorite. Danny, too, had excelled with the Arts, but anything that happened on a stage had been his specialty.

Whenever he missed his brother, or any aspect of Before, too much, Danny would sit down and draw. He’d thought about asking his parents for an instrument of some kind, the cello always having been his favorite, but he decided against it. So, he drew. He didn’t have a dedicated sketch book, and no one but himself would ever see anything he made, but it was a nice outlet.

He wondered if Damian did something similar, now that he was with father. Did he play instruments or read plays when he thought of Danny? Did he allow his new siblings to see what he made or listen to his voice?

Three hours passed by in a blink, only one page being covered. It was a nice memory he’d drawn of the blacksmith’s hut away from the main base. In the picture, he and Damian were learning to forge their own daggers. Damian’s had turned out unbalanced and two inches too short. Danny’s had been only half an inch too long with a slightly too short grip.

Jazz knocked on the door as she cracked it open. “Hey,” she greeted quietly.

Danny covered tha paper. “Hey.”

“Are you ready to head out? We can stop by Tasty Burger for lunch?”

“Sure,” he nodded, moving to stand in a way that prevented the paper from showing to Jazz. He hid it in his nightstand to be moved to the box with the others later. “Let’s go.”

Nodding, she led the way.

It was a quick walk, only twenty minutes from their house to the library, but it was cold and bright. The snow only made the area brighter, but it was comfortable to him; familiar. What was really irritating was the cars and the people and the buildings. Danny had been raised very far from all of these things, only ever going near them when on a mission, and it was only a few hours at a time in those instances. No matter how long he lived in a city or town, whatever it was called, though, he would never get used to the noise.

The sidewalks were crowded with holiday shoppers not insane enough to go out on the twenty-fourth, but crazy enough to go out on the twenty-third. The streets were slick and traffic was slow, especially for a morning. Christmas decorations lined every window and tree and building face, holiday music carried on the wind four or five different songs mixing into one over and under the voices of the people on the sidewalks.

“C’mon,” Jazz tugged him into the public library by his hand. She had four books tucked under her arm, two on psychology, one on parenting, and one on dragons.

Danny followed after her, not quite dragging his feet, but making it apparent that he would rather not be there.

“Good morning, you two!” the librarian smiled when they made their way to her desk. She was a cheerful woman, always wearing a smile, though she had never once worn a nametag or introduced herself.

“Good morning!” Jazz matched the woman’s energy with a smile, dropping Danny’s hand and putting the four books up on the counter.

The woman took the books to scan them back into the system. “Are you looking to check out more books today?”

“Yep! Just so I have something to do over Winter Break.”

“You’re a kid, there’s lots for you to do!”

“I know, but I like reading.”

“I get it. Let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“Okay, we will!” Jazz took Danny’s hand again and pulled him off into the forest of shelves, straight to the parenting section.

Danny hid his scowl as he watched Jazz search through the parenting books. “You’re twelve, Jazz-”

“Almost thirteen.”

“-you’re not supposed to be looking at these kinds of books until eighteen at the earliest.”

She didn’t stop her search. “You’re eleven, Danny, you should be acting like a kid.”

“But I wasn’t raised as a kid.”

“Exactly why you should take the opportunity now!”

He groaned. It was an ongoing argument between the two. “I don’t need you to look after me, Jazz. We’re both kids, so we should be reading books that kids do! Leave the parenting up to our parents.”

“Our parents who don’t even celebrate holidays?”

“Jazz-”

“Look, Danny, I know you’re worried about me growing up too fast or whatever, but I like these books.” She pulled one off the shelf before turning to look at him. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll only get one parenting book.”

It didn’t. He’d rather her get none. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna get some psychology books, though, and you can’t stop me.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” he said. She ignored him.

“The human mind is really interesting. Did you know that the size of a human brain has decreased since the time when we were hunters and gatherers?”

“Has it?” He loved when she got like this, talking about things that interest her.

She nodded rapidly. “Mhmm! By a whole ten percent!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! And most artists like working at night because humans are more creative during the night rather than during the day.”

“What?” He raised his eyebrow in good humor to tell her that he was joking, “There’s no way that’s true.”

“It is!” she insisted, leading the way over to the tables in the middle of the large room with two psychology books and a parenting book under her arm. “And, look!” she grabbed a paper and pencil and wrote down ‘Yuo cna’t sotp me form radenig prnatneig bokos.��� in big letters. “Because we read words instead of individual letters, as long as the first and last letters are in the proper spots, and all the letters are there, it doesn’t matter what the rest of the word looks like, especially if you’ve been reading for a while or if you’re reading fast. You’re still able to read the word as though it were completely correct.”

“That’s actually really cool.”

“Right?” Her grin was so worth it. Her grin would always be worth it. “C’mon, let’s go get yo some books now.”

Danny grabbed Jazz’s hand and led the way this time. He took them over to the books about space and started to look through them. He’d always loved space as a whole, but stars had always held a special place for him.

He picked a book about astrology. “I heard some of the girls at school talking about magic and stuff and how people’s personalities are affected by what star sign they were born under.”

Jazz scrunched her nose a bit. “I’ve heard some people at school talk about that stuff, too. Do you think it’s true?”

“I think it’d be worth a look.” He took another book off the shelf, this one talking about both ancient and modern witchcraft. “The psychological implications are interesting, too.” That would get her to show a bit more interest.

“Really?”

“Really.”

She paused. “Mind if I take a look when you’re done?”

“I’d be happy to have a whole conversation about it when we’ve both finished reading our books.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The last stop before checking out their chosen books was in the fairy tail section of the library. Their dad loved fairy tales, but their mom refused to let them have any of the books in the house. She claimed that there was no such thing as magic and that any ‘magic’ was done by ghosts. Danny had to hide his amusement whenever that particular argument was bright up because he knew for a fact that the supernatural and magic go hand in hand more often than not. He wasn’t about to tell her that, though.

The book they chose was one they both wanted to read, not wanting to risk mom finding one fairy tale in the house, let alone two. It was a compilation of the Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales. Dark stories, they both knew, but that just made them all the more enticing.

Checking out went much the same as checking in, with the added bonus of the librarian giving them a cloth tote bag to carry their six books in. She also gave them the name of a small magic shop on the other side of town that had some tarot cards in stock if Danny was interested.

As promised, Jazz had taken some money from their mom’s purse to stop by the Tasty Burger for lunch. They both ordered the chicken nuggets and a milkshake, Jazz getting chocolate and Danny getting strawberry. Then, when they were done eating, they walked hand in hand back to their home.

Danny stopped at the mailbox, not moving to follow Jazz or to open the thing. Did he dare check? He didn’t want to get his hopes up. What if Damian hadn’t gotten the letter like he both feared and hoped? What if he had? Would there be a response? Would Damian ever want a relationship with him?

“Hey,” Jazz tugged his hand, “What’s wrong?”

He bit his lip, a show of nervousness that would’ve been punished in Nanda Parbat. He inhaled. “What if there’s no response? What if he doesn’t want to talk to me? It’s been almost five years.”

It took a moment before Jazz clocked what he was talking about. She let go of his hand to hold his shoulders. “How about this; You go inside and wait and I’ll get the mail, okay?”

Danny nodded and slowly trudged into the house. Why had he even sent that stupid letter? He flopped onto the couch. Damian probably hates him for not returning to his side.

He didn’t have time to mope any longer because Jaz threw the front door open with a shout. “Danny!” She was suddenly right beside him, shoving a letter into his hands. “There’s a letter for you!”

After a moment to process, Danny’s shaky hands ripped the envelope open and pulled out the paper inside. The single sheet was folded into three perfect rectangles, the black ink of a pen unsmudged and perfectly spaced. Just as Mother had taught.

***

Danyal ‘Danny’ Fenton,                         Dec. 21, 2011

You have a very extravagant story. Whatever made you believe that exchanging letters was the most secure way of contact? An idiotic move that my brother would, unfortunately, absolutely make. Either you are him, or you are a clone. Either way, I’m not likely to believe you, so do not mistake this as such. Your admitted honesty is welcomed, though not believed.

My welcome into the Wayne Family was quite a public affair and aired all over the country, so I guess I should thank you for the congratulations, as is socially acceptable in this situation as well as others like it. Bruce Wayne being my father is not a surprise, given his public image and his tendency to take any stray whelp he sees into his home. Though I will have you know that I am the only blood child in the household.

Announcing your stalling while writing a letter is completely unnecessary, especially as that was your first correspondence. Had you simply left that out, I would never have been the wiser. Another mistake you’ve made in accordance with my brother.

Having read over your letter several times, I have come to several conclusions. With the resources I have at my disposal, I have determined that there is a good chance you are who you say you are. Understanding who I am, and who my brother is, the rest of this response is written under the foolish  ̶h̶o̶p̶e̶ assumption that you are who you claim to be.

I could never hate you, Danyal, nor could I ever ignore this chance I have been presented with. Getting out was the best thing you could’ve done for yourself. Coming back from that mission, having failed and lost you, broke something in Mother. She was both harsher and more clingy, hovering whenever she could and pushing more than ever. Grandfather was even less pleased that you hadn’t returned, though he only ever acknowledged you as a failure and a mistake. He made it known that he would’ve killed you, had you ever miraculously returned to Nanda Parbat.

I am glad that you got help. I am glad that you are living safely and that you have found a place to be at peace.

You are a coward, but you are more deserving of praise and forgiveness than you seem to believe. I thought you had died on that mission, Danyal. For that, I can’t ever forgive you, but I could never hate you. I can forgive you for making me return on my own. I can forgive you for being selfish and leaving me alone, but I will never forgive you for making me mourn you. You hurt me in ways that I never thought I could ever be hurt, in ways that I may never be hurt again.

Grandfather and Mother never allowed a grave to be made. They didn’t let me keep anything of yours either. They erased you. It was like you had never been there. I was never allowed to properly mourn you. That alone almost ended me.

Father knows nothing of you. Mother did not tell him, nor will I. I did not wish to make him or our siblings mourn a child they would never meet. If you so choose to tell him, then you may. I, however, will not be playing the messenger.

أرجو أن تسامحني على اعتقادي بأنك ميت. أرجوك سامحني لأنني لم أحزن عليك كما ينبغي. أرجوك سامحني لأنني لم أبحث عنك، فالعودة لم تكن خياراً متاحاً. كان يجب أن أجعله خياراً                     Damian Wayne

Translation 1 - Arabic :: Thank you for being my brother.

Translation 2 - Romanian :: Damn it!

Translation 3 - Arabic :: Please forgive me for thinking you were dead. Please forgive me for not mourning you properly. Please forgive me for not looking for you, coming back was not an option. I should have made it an option

Storyboard Part 2 Artwork

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

Fred Weasley masterlist nav. megalist bth

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️fluff▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

ridiculously in love

together at last

Yn had died years before Fred was even born, she died during her 7th year. So when Fred first sees her he fell in love

too far

Fred has always been the king of pranks, but one day he goes a bit too far, and he Fred spends the rest of the day trying to make it up to you with adorable gestures until you can’t help but forgive him

the kissing booth

a bit down

after a tough day, Fred surprises you with your favorite sweets from Honeydukes and a cuddle session

you’re completely mad, you know that?

y/n(she/her) loves thunderstorms and the rain and always wants to go dance in the rain with Fred, but Fred is terrified of them

it’s okay to be happy, even after everything | p2 | p3 | p4

i like you, and it scares the hell out of me | p2

all of Fred's life he's hated Slytherins and has always said he would never befriend one much less date one, but reader appears and he starts falling for her while denying it and is maybe a bit of an a**hole to reader because he just doesn't believe he could ever like you, but realizes that reader isn't horrible and that not all Slytherins are monsters, and once they're together everyone teases him about how he would say he would never date a Slytherin but now reader is basically the love of his life

well, i suppose we’ll just have to share them

Fred is definitely the type to want his partner to get along with George’s partner

tu sais que je t'aime bien, non? | p2

you should pick where all my rings go

Fred always wears his unusual rings and y/n(she/her) is obsessed with them and like to move them around and play with them when he's not looking. So one day she does it and she moves her favorite ring of his to his ring finger and he's absolutely obsessed with it and won't stop thinking about it

i don’t think i should pick favorites

y/n(she/her) has a crush on her best friend's older brother

i know | p2

Fred falls for Sirius's daughter

seems like deja vu to me | p2

Fred always tries to flirt with her and impress her but she just acts annoyed, just like how James was with Lily

told you I'd keep you warm

y/n(she/her) is always cold in general and especially when she sleeps and one night she's in the twins room and it's too late for her to go back to her common room so she stays and ends up in Fred's bed and he's really warm and after that night she can barely sleep without him

just don’t get us caught

what’s wrong? too shy to look at me now?

just Fred basically teasing short!y/n(she/her)

alright, Weasley, impress me

i like it best when it’s pink

y/n(she/her) is Nymphadora Tonks younger sister and she's also a metamorphmagus and this makes Fred really interested in her

they don’t deserve you, you know

y/n(she/her) came from a family of Gryffindors but she ended up in Slytherin and her family hates her for it, but throughout all her time at Hogwarts Fred has always been there for her

don’t get used to it

i wouldn’t let you get in trouble

i'll be here when you come back

during their firework show, when they leave, Fred quickly stops and goes over to y/n(she/her) and finally admits to how much he loves her

someday

Bill and Fleur are getting married and having their wedding and the entire time all Fred can think about is the wedding being his and y/n(she/her)'s

i love that you draw me

what’s this?

y/n(she/her) has been hiding from Fred that she still sleeps with her lovey stuffed animal

i don’t like sharing

Fred Weasley and slytherin!y/n(she/her) have a secret little situationship going on

there, see? i’m a natural at this

y/n(she/her) gets a new piercing and Fred is helping her clean it and accidentally hits it and hurts her

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️angst▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

you promised, remember?

y/n (she/her) finds Fred after the battle of Hogwarts

second chances

after Fred’s near-death experience in the Battle of Hogwarts, y/n(she/her) struggles with the fear of losing him again

it hurts

Umbridge performs the cruciartus curse on y/n(she/her) to torture her into telling her where her dad, Sirius Black, is

you’re going to be a dad, Fred…

[star-girl-05]

Mama I'm In Love With A Criminal

Kol Mikaelson x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

Inspo~ Mama I'm in love with a criminal And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical Mama please don't cry, I will be alright All reason aside I just can't deny, I love the guy ~Britney Spears

You should have known he was too good to be true. He was the perfect boyfriend, handsome, funny, caring, and he had an accent -A BRITISH ACCENT. He was just too perfect, he had to have a flaw though it didn’t have to be such a big one. I mean you could get over the vampire thing if anything it was kinda a plus I mean everyone goes through a vampire phase. Even the fact he’s related to Klaus, wasn’t a complete deal breaker. No, what you couldn't get over is the fact he beat Jeremy up with a bat and nearly pummeled the boy to death. You can still remember the call you got from elena she was in tears begging you to come back to mystic falls. 

You had decided to go along with Jeremy when Elena sent him away just wanting to have a normal life with no drama. Though you unknowingly had fallen smack dab in the middle. 

You were packing up your room, desperate to get back home and comfort your friend. A knock on your door has you freezing. You were hoping it was anyone but Kol, you had no desire to see him. After that call with Elena you never even wanted to hear his name again. You felt like such a fool, you were just a pawn, a means to mess with Elena. 

“Darling would you open the door?”, you don’t move hoping that your silence will make him leave. “I suppose you heard about the Jeremy thing but it was nothing personal. Now open the door before I kick it in” you thought the threat over, eventually deciding to stand you don’t know how you would explain a kicked in door. 

You kept your face neutral as you opened the door, Kol on the other hand wore a smirk. “I do hope your not here to beat me with a bat”, in truth you should be scared but you just couldn’t bring yourself to be. No, you're already feeling too much to be scared of him. 

“Darling,” he reached out, going to stroke your cheek, you quickly dodge. It didn’t seem to upset him though. “Even when you're mad I find you completely irresistible.” You tried your best not to be affected by his words. Yet you still found your heart quickening, in your defense it was only a short while ago that this man was your boyfriend. It was only fitting that there was residual feelings even if you wished there weren't. “Let me make it up to you” he’s reaching for you once more, this time however he moves too fast for you to react. His lips smashing against yours in a heart aching kiss. 

“Kol” you mumble against his lips. Your arms rest on his chest your not sure if you wish to push him away or pull him closer. 

“I love it when you say my name” he groans as he moves his lips against your neck. You shouldn’t let this continue.

“Kol we shouldn’t-I shouldn’t” you finally managed to push him away. Or at least get him to stop kissing you. He still had you held close against her. 

“I don’t want this to get between us, I care for you shouldn’t that be all that matters?” His words gave you pause. You wish it was that easy but the ‘this’ he’s talking about is him beating up your friend's brother. You couldn’t just look past that. “If you can overlook your friends' actions towards my family, then why can’t you look over mine towards theirs?”. His question had you pausing. When he said it like that you realized just how hypocritical you had been. 

When it came to your friends you always excused their actions, even the most questionable ones, because they only did what they had to. So if you can excuse their actions maybe you could forgive Kols. “I’m not saying I condone your actions because I don’t but-” you're not even able to finish your sentence before Kol is kissing you. This time you don’t push him away. 

For now you just want to focus on the warm feeling he makes erupt in your chest. Not on how your friends are bound to react to your choice in men, but what can you do your in love. Even if he may be a criminal in their minds to you he’s just your Love.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Tim Through the Years - The Perfect Ring

Series Masterlist (part 9)

Summary: Tim finds the perfect engagement ring and stops a robbery in progress. 1.2k+ words

Tim loves you and, as a result, he thinks that he knows you well enough to understand what you do and don’t like, what you want and enjoy, and what is special to you. Yet, he can’t find the ring. He has a mental image of the ring he wants to put on your ringer when he proposes, but he can’t seem to find the right piece to match his idea.

Since finding out that Tim was dating you, Angela has dropped hints about getting married: leaving paper samples on his desk, texting venue options late at night, and even slipping jewelry store cards into his pocket. As he slides his hands into his pockets, thinking about you and how he should propose, he isn’t surprised to feel a rectangular piece of cardboard. The slogan about custom engagement rings, however, captures his attention. Tim puts the card back in his pocket to keep it safe before he gets back to work, but he feels a little lighter because he is one step closer to forever with you.

“Welcome!” the owner of the jewelry store calls as Tim enters on an afternoon off. “What can I help you with, sir?”

“Well,” Tim begins, glancing down at the rows of expensive rings and watches in the case between them. “I’m looking for an engagement ring, but I’m having trouble finding the right one.”

“You know what you want then?” the man asks with a smile.

“I think so, I just can’t seem to communicate it well enough to search for it.”

The man nods and pulls an iPad from a nearby shelf. He opens the magnetic case and sets it on the glass case. “I’ve been working with gentlemen like yourself for years. Think of the ring you want and talk me through what you see. We’ll see what we can do from there.”

“Okay,” Tim agrees hesitantly. He smiles and begins talking about the ring he pictures on your finger: the color, cut, size, and design he envisions when he dreams of his future with you. Though you haven’t sent him pictures or said anything to make him think he should propose - or given him an idea of your ring preference, for that matter - Tim Bradford knows you, so he can make connections between your personality, your style, your heart, and a ring. Or so he thinks. 

“... and maybe an engraving to signify how we met, at the police station,” Tim concludes.

“Alright,” the owner murmurs, tapping another marker setting. “Give me one second to finish this up. Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but it sounds like the two of you are perfect for one another. You’re lucky.”

“I appreciate that. Hopefully her brothers think the same when I ask him.”

“You don’t necessarily hide it. Okay.” He straightens and sets the pen aside, then turns the iPad toward Tim and asks, “Something like this?”

Tim is speechless as he stares at the sketch of the ring. The owner says something about not being able to hurt his feelings, but all Tim can think of is you.

“That’s it,” he says, looking up to thank the owner. “This is the ring.”

With a smile, the man extends his hand and offers, “Then let’s get started. I’ll need your help with a few things, just picking out the final material choices, and then I’ll start making it for you. I trust you know her ring size.”

“I do,” Tim answers. “One of my coworkers stole one of her rings as a hint, but I already knew.”

“See,” the man points out, “you don’t hide it, so if her brothers can’t see it, they aren’t looking.”

Tim nods and follows the man to a flat cart at the end of the display case. He lifts a box of sample diamonds in different cuts and colors before pulling out the one closest to his drawing.

“What do you think?”

Tim turns the man-made version of the gem in his hand and envisions you walking down the aisle, holding his hand, teaching, and growing old with it on your finger.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Let me get your information and I’ll give you a call with any questions and again when it’s ready to pick up. You’re sure this is the perfect ring?”

“For the perfect girl,” Tim answers. 

Since finding the perfect ring for you, Tim was looking forward to his next day off. His plan was to grab breakfast with your brothers then go get the ring afterwards, even if he was told no by your brothers. Tim knew how you saw Dean as a father figure and that traditions were important to you, so he wanted to make sure he got permission. Tim felt pretty confident that they would say yes, they all were pretty good friends at this point. Tim and Dean would go to a sports bar to get burgers and watch the game when they both could. While Sam would go jogging with Tim on occasion, but at least once a month everyone would get together for dinner. But on the chance the brothers would say no, he would ask you anyway. He was in love with you and wanted to scream it to the sky.

Today was finally the day, and it was going great so far. Breakfast went exactly as he planned, the brothers immediately agreeing and then arguing about who would walk her down the aisle, which turned into arguing who was gonna dance with her first. Tim chuckles to himself at the memory, the brothers truly loved you. Finally arriving at the store he feels a little nervous, nervous that the ring is going to be the wrong one, nervous that you will say no, but when the store clerk shows him the ring he ordered, all the fear goes away because the ring is perfect.

“Put your hands in the air! This is a robbery!” a deep voice bellows from behind Tim.

Tim’s smile turns to a frown instantly, this is not how he wanted to spend his day. Tim complies; he didn’t want to get seriously hurt since he is off duty. But when the guy shoves Tim to the side and grabs your engagement ring, Tim grabs the guy by the back of the head and slams his head on the counter then grabs his gun all in one quick motion and aims it at the robber.

“LAPD! You're under arrest!”

Tim is annoyed, he is now trying to make it seem like he was not buying any jewelry as to not involve more people than necessary. But of course Lucy was one of the first people to arrive on scene and so she has to take his statement.

“Like I keep telling you, I was walking by and saw the robbery take place so I stopped it. What’s so hard to believe?” Tim grunts to Lucy.

“Okay, okay, this just doesn’t seem to be the part of town I’d take you to stroll around, it’s too fancy for you,” Lucy replies with a small smile.

“Tim! Great news, I got your engagement ring to not be processed and the owner of the store wants to give you a big discount since the guy has  robbed the store 5 times now! Isn’t that great... news. Oh, hey Lucy.”  Angela freezes as she gets closer to Tim, not knowing Lucy was with him.

“You bought a what?!” Lucy exclaims.

[auroreliis]

Platonic batfam (or romantic, if you prefer). With darling who's English language not native. And theynot take a words in English like Their native language, Not entirely. Would insisted Bruce what batkid (any age, sure) call he "father" but on the Their (Her/His) native language? If he will know what They don't make the meaning same, like for he and batboys (and girls)? I mean, I would easily call someone "father" or "brother" exactly in English even if I don't perceive them as such, because it's not father-Father for me. How about others? Maybe batfam take it as an opportunity for to get close to darling, to teach Them to better perceive English and them in this context. And also. What about darling who swears in his native language (switches to his native language when angry/annoyed). Conversely, They calls those They like with nice nicknames in his native language, for example, Alfred (the cat and the original), Duke, probably girls.

L🍑

Yes! Absolutely, they would take this chance to get closer to you!!!

Bruce is your dad, therefore you must refer to him as such. He really doesn’t care in which language, as he either speaks it or will speak it soon, so go right ahead and speak your native language.

While the Batfam speaks English fluently, they will not force you to learn it. In fact, they’d rather force themselves to learn YOUR language (…if they don’t speak it already, that is)

However, if he heard you admit that you only call him dad in English, because it feels less personal, he would be stumped. I mean, he can’t just force you to switch your language, what would that change? Though he would certainly find ways to ensure you truly think of him as your father, he just needs to figure out how…

Also, swearing is strictly forbiden according to Bruce and Dick. You’re their little angel, the light of their lives, so you will NOT be heard using such profanities, no matter which language you speak.

Jason doesn’t give enough fucks to snitch, but if you went overboard, he would tell you to watch it.

Tim is the biggest snitch ever. Do not break ANY rules in his proximity, you will regret it.

Damian, like Bruce and Dick, prefers it when you use polite and gentle language. You’re like a blossom, blooming in the sunlight, such disgusting and vile words should not be coming from you, so watch it.

Duke would kind of freeze if you swore around him. He, ever so loyal to Bruce, cannot let this fly, but…imagining the scolding you’d get makes him feel bad. Besides, you’d never forgive him if he snitched, right? Fine, he’ll endure it, despite how uncomfortable it makes him feel. The things we do for love, huh?

Stephanie is so cool, because she’s rebellious enough to not snitch on you, but also obedient enough to not get into trouble with Bruce (…at least not THAT often). Hence why she not only ignores your swearing, but also swears with you! Not in front of Bruce, though. He would scold you both.

Cassandra has it tough. She obviously doesn’t want to snitch on you or forbid you from speaking your mind, but sometimes, your words, or specifically your use of those words in her proximity, make her feel a bit disrespected. You shouldn’t use such words in the proximity of someone who is older than you, that’s what she was taught.

Barbara is a mix of Dick’s and Steph’s attitude. Most of the time, she doesn’t care, but if your words are directed at anyone from the family, she’s telling Bruce to reprimand you right away.

In short, be careful of what you do and who is nearby when you do it.

Oh and, you have a nickname for someone specific? You won’t hear the end of it (in a positive way…mostly). They won’t leave you alone, they won’t shup up and they won’t stop bragging about how they clearly must be the favourite because their nickname is the more affectionate one, or their nickname is used more often, etc.

Truly a delusional bunch.

[jumexju]

ADDITIONAL CAUSE FOR SORROW (req)

REQ !! : hii can i request something about itachi x reader, i love angst recently lol so maybe something about them having a fight and reader ignoring him for some time BUT in the end its fluff bc they make up - anon

Pairing !! : Itachi / GN Reader

Fic Type !! : Hurt to Comfort, Angst to Fluff, Fluff, Angst

CW !! : none !

Summary !! : Arguments rarely occur, but when they do, they last for quite a bit ー much to Itachi's dismay.

Note !! : Rip itachi, you would've loved feminist literature

✦ MASTERLIST

“Forgive me, Sasuke. I’ll help you some other day, okay?” Itachi gave his brother an apologetic smile. His little brother rubbed the spot where he had poked his forehead. 

“Fine..” Sasuke pouted and watched his big brother leave. Itachi sighed after he slid the door closed. Lately, it felt like everything rested on his shoulders. As if he never got a single moment of peace. He had been avoiding you, too. He didn’t want to feel as if he was burdening you with the pressure that he was under from both the Hokage and his father. 

Unfortunately for him, you had been relentless in trying to ease whatever was troubling him. He wouldn’t tell you anything whenever you asked what was up with him and that only served to worry you even more. As much as you tried to help, you couldn’t do anything if he wouldn’t let you in. 

Letting out another sigh, Itachi put on his Anbu mask and swiftly left the Uchiha Compound. He knew he’d have to deal with the tension between you two soon.. Just, not now. 

“Good afternoon, ____..! How have you been?” A smile graced Mikoto’s features. You went over to Itachi’s house often, at least twice a week when you could. Mikoto and Fugaku welcomed you since you were helpful and warm to them — They often told Itachi that he was blessed to have you, but you didn’t know about that. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Uchiha,” You gave her a smile in return. “Is Itachi here?” 

She gave you an apologetic look. You always tried to look after him as much as you could, but there was only so much you could do. “No sweetheart, He’s on a mission right now, but you could come in and wait for him if you’d like?” 

“Is that alright? I don’t want to intrude..” You shyly asked. Sometimes you wondered if you were a bother to them, but Itachi’s parents always received you with open arms so you guessed maybe they didn’t mind. 

“Oh you could never intrude! Don’t be so modest,” Mikoto chuckled and gestured for you to come in. 

You came in with a smile, eyeing Itachi’s little brother peering up at you from his mother’s left side. As you took off his shoes, you noticed Sasuke’s pout. He seemed disappointed.. Was he expecting Itachi? After taking your shoes off, you followed Sasuke to the engawa and sat next to him. You looked onto the beautiful garden, it was bathing in the orange tint of the sunset. 

“Why are you so pouty today, hm?” You asked the little boy next to you. 

“I thought Big Brother came back,” He crossed his arms, “But it was just you.” 

“Just me?” you put a hand over your heart, feigning hurt. “I’m wounded!” You said dramatically. 

“Hmph..!” Sasuke stuck to his words before letting up and sighing. “Big Brother said he’d help me with the Shuriken Jutsu when he came back.. But I don’t think he’s coming back..” He spoke quietly as he looked down at his fidgety hands. You could tell that it meant a lot to him, so without much of a thought, you stood up. 

“Well, I’m not as skilled at Itachi,” you began, “But I can try to help, if you want.” 

Sasuke eyed you suspiciously, considering your offer before getting up. He put his hands on his hips and looked up at you with a determined expression. “I bet you can’t even hit the targets like I can!” He spoke confidently. 

“Oh-ho-ho! Really? Is that what you think?” you smirked down at the boy and crossed your arms. “Whoever hits the most targets gets a piggyback ride from Itachi!” Sasuke looked at you with stars in his rounded black eyes, he was definitely motivated to beat you at it now. 

Without any more talking, you found yourself with Sasuke in the woods to help him practice his Shuriken Jutsu. Admittedly, you weren’t trying too hard since you knew you’d probably win the bet, even if you weren’t as good as Itachi. You watched as Sasuke flung three shuriken to their targets, only barely missing one of them. 

He let out a small grunt, frustrated that he kept missing the same target. “That’s the only one I keep missing, I swear I’ll beat you!” He said while he crossed his arms and looked up at you as you got into position to show him how it was done. 

“Uh-huh, sure you will,” You smirked and took out the shuriken before swiftly jumping into the air and flinging them at their targets. Though your moves weren’t as graceful as when Itachi did it, you did end up hitting every single target, even the one behind you.

By now, the sun was starting to go down. Once you landed, you proudly smiled at Sasuke and walked up to him. “C’mon, I should take you back home,” You said as you crouched down. 

“What are you doing?” Sasuke asked you.

“What? You don’t want a piggyback ride back home?” You asked him with an amused tone, “Is it ‘cause I’m not Itachi?” 

Sasuke giggled and climbed up on your back, “I’m not turning down a piggyback ride home!” With a bright smile, you  stood up and carried him home. Luckily the two of you didn’t go far so it didn’t take the two of you long to get to Sasuke’s house. As the two of you approached the road it was on, your eyes rested upon the familiar figure that was Itachi. 

Itachi’s back was all you could see though. His father looked agitated and that was all you needed to know the state of affairs between the two of them. Itachi followed his father inside the home while you and Sasuke entered a few minutes after them. As soon as the two of you stepped inside the home, Sasuke got off of your back to run off to eavesdrop on what Fugaku was telling Itachi. 

Meanwhile, you walked into the kitchen to ask Mikoto what had happened. She was washing dishes when you sat at the table, a semi-worried look on your face. “..Is Itachi okay?” 

Mikoto sighed, turning off the water and turning to you. Her expression was downcast and you could tell her heart was heavy when it came to things like this. “..He’s alright, it's just that..” Mikoto contemplated her next words. She had to be careful with what she said because you weren’t an Uchiha, therefore, you didn’t know what the clan was currently going through. “He’s under a lot of pressure from his father and being in the Anbu.. — The boy is stressed, please understand.”

You gave her an empathetic smile, “Don’t worry, I understand. I wish he would talk to me though..” 

Mikoto’s heart strings were pulled after hearing your words. You wanted to understand her son and wished to ease his burden even if it was only a little — Much like she did with Fugaku. The only difference was that you weren’t an Uchiha, so the things Itachi could tell you were limited. 

“I feel like he expects to shoulder all of this by himself, and I know that it can’t be good for him..” You sighed and laid your head down on the table, wondering how long Itachi would take. 

After what felt like an hour, Itachi emerged from the room and passed by the kitchen, his eyes resting on you for a moment before he continued on his way to the veranda. You excused yourself from the table and followed after him. Sasuke must’ve fallen asleep waiting because he wasn’t sitting next to his brother like he usually did. You quietly sat next to him, trying to gauge his mood at the moment. Usually, you could read his body language, but tonight, you couldn’t read him. After a moment of comfortable silence, you spoke up. 

“Are you alright?” you asked quietly, not wanting to accidentally irritate him. 

Your boyfriend sighed, “..I’m fine.” His hand slowly intertwined with yours. “Everything is fine.” 

Your brows furrowed at his words, you knew they were lies. You held his hand and gave it a small squeeze, “Itachi..” 

He could tell you were about to start questioning him. The fact that you knew him like the back of your hand was a blessing but at times like these,it was also a curse. “Please, just.. Can’t we just stay like this? For now at least?” He was pleading that you’d understand him at least a little. 

But he couldn’t blame you for worrying about him. “But, Itachi..” You began, “I want to help, I really do- But if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t do anything for you..!” You spoke in a worried tone, your expression matched it. “I don’t want you to carry these burdens by yourself, I-” 

Itachi sighed and let go of your hand. “It isn’t that I don’t want to tell you, it’s that I can’t. If you can’t understand that – Can you just go? I do not need you questioning me on top of all the other responsibilities I hold.” Itachi’s voice, for once, was tinged with the subtle tone of frustration. 

A bewildered look flashed across your face. You never once had heard such words come from Itachi’s mouth. He said it so calmly too and you knew he was frustrated but.. Was he serious? You balled up your hands and stood, wordlessly walking to the door and sliding it open to leave. 

 Itachi didn’t go after you or tell you to stay. He simply let you be on your way. This, for some reason, hurt you more. A worried Mikoto looked at you as you passed by the kitchen but you only told her that you were leaving for tonight. 

That night, you didn’t sleep much. It took you about a week to get over the stabbing pain you felt. But you weren’t guiltless either. You knew he was stressed and poking the bear wasn’t a wise thing to do.. But he could’ve handled it differently, too. 

When the second week rolled around, you found yourself avoiding Itachi at all costs. If he turned up at your home and your father notified you? Suddenly you weren’t home. If you were running errands and saw him for even a split second? Suddenly you weren’t there anymore. Wherever Itachi went, you fled. And of course, he noticed. 

He felt bad for saying what he had said to you and he wanted to apologize, but it was now two weeks since that argument and you still wouldn’t give him the light of day. When he woke up that morning, he was determined to make today the last day that you avoided him. 

You were calmly reading a magazine at the kitchen table while you munched on some of the onigiri your father made you before he left for a mission today when you heard a knock at your front door. You didn’t think much of it, but on the other side of the door was none other than Itachi at your doorstep. In his hands, you saw an assortment of all types of flowers. Your favorites were among them, but just seeing him — With no way to get away from him — after the encounter made your stomach sink. 

You quickly opted to shut the door but Itachi jammed his foot in between the door and the frame. You sighed and opened the door fully, an unamused expression on your features. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”  you said sarcastically. You didn’t want to be bitter, but you wanted him to apologize first.

“____. I..” Itachi had rehearsed what he was going to say to you but now that he had actually succeeded, it was like the words had left him high and dry. You stood there expectantly and the longer the two of you spent in silence, the longer you felt the urge to absolve him of everything and just take him in your arms. 

But you knew you had to give yourself at least a bit of respect. 

“I want to apologize for what I said,” He began, His black eyes downcast and guilty. “I was dealing with a lot at the moment, but I know that it was no excuse to talk to you the way I did..” He offered you the flowers. “Take them, I got them for you.” 

The boy finally met your eyes and you swear you could feel your heart swell. You sighed and pulled him into a hug — You’d accept the flowers after. “..I was hurt by what you said.” you uttered softly as he returned your embrace. 

“I know.., I’m sorry.” He held you tight, as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t 

You took in a small breath and got what you had been meaning to say to him off of your chest, “But.. I also should’ve understood that you didn’t need my relentless worrying at the moment- And for that, I’m sorry, too.”

Itachi smiled softly, but you couldn't see. “You have nothing to apologize for.. You were worried.” 

You parted from him and cupped his cheeks while you donned a determined expression, “Still. I want to be your support, I don’t want you to think you can’t come to me..” 

Itachi softly shook his head, “I know I can come to you, I just..” 

“-can’t tell me certain things..?” You finished for him. Your lover nodded, an apologetic look on his face. “It’s okay,” you told him as you took the flowers he offered to you, “Just.. remember that you’re human too, okay? You don’t have to go through it alone.” 

He smiled and nodded. 

One of the things he adored most about you was the way you always tried to understand him and grow the relationship. Though it was rare, arguments like these allowed the two of you to know more about each other.

Maybe one day he would tell you all of his burdens.. 

But that day was not today. 

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) au headcanons

Other snippets of this au

Yuuji’s Onee-chan Random HCs

You never worried about Yuuji’s social life, because he was like the sun, the type of guy to attract all sorts of people. He was kind and polite and defended others from injustice. However, you were never attached to any of the friends he hung out with from kindergarten to high school; not until you met Megumi and Nobara. 

You would get along with Megumi, who has a soft spot for older sister types because of his own sister. He respects your opinion a lot and you love how he protected Yuuji. 

Nobara took a liking to you instantly. Much like Megumi, she sees you as an older sister and often goes to you for advice or just to rant. She looks up to you as a role model, but secretly in your heart, you wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t emulate you, because while she and the others were selfless and would sacrifice their lives for the greater good, you were the opposite. You would sacrifice everybody else for your baby brother.

You owe a debt of gratitude to Satoru Gojo. He shielded Yuuji from harm and provided you two with a safe haven. That being said, you didn’t like him. You didn’t doubt his compassion, but he seemed duplicitous, not to mention it bothered you how a grown man insisted on treating minors as his friends.*

You despised Ryomen Sukuna. If not for him, Yuuji wouldn’t be on death row. He claims that he is your husband, but you don’t even know what he looks like–when you “saw” him, he overtook Yuuji and marred his skin with black tattoos,** a sickening grin in place of a sweet smile. You will never forget it. You will never forgive him.

…So you thought, but ever since Yuuji’s possession, you began having odd dreams of old Japan, filled with scenes in a manor so large and grand it reminded you of imperial palaces in period pieces. Sometimes you’d be outside. Bright red maple leaves fell like snow around you, the mild, woody scent of cypress was ever present. Sometimes you'd see a familiar childlike silhouette that morphed into a kitten.

Regardless of where you were, a faceless man was always there, towering above you.

With the reveal of sorcery and curses, you suspected that these dreams were not mere dreams…

[1] Canonically, we know that there is more to Gojo than this, and you have no idea about the despicable things I’d let him do to me–but I’m writing these based on what Yuuji’s protective big sister would think. Frankly, as someone with younger underage siblings, I would be worried too if their adult teacher spent their free time hanging out with them. 

[2] I believe that in-universe, the characters can’t tell when Sukuna is the one actively using the body of his host and that the shift in visuals is just for the benefit of the audience. However, Y/N here sees the changes: tattoos, four eyes, etc.

@shadowywizardarcade @hannya-exists @nineooooo @lilachaeyo @pumpkindudeishere @jessbeinme15 @fluffy-koalala @cringeycookies @frogzxch @isimpfordanielpark @marvelsgirl4ever @sanzusmom @sheccidoscar @marvelsgirl4ever

A/N: Sorry for the late update. Been busy. Decided to write this while waiting for my resin to refill.

[writersmess]

hello!! i hope you’re doing well and having a great day 🥰

i saw you were taking requests and was wondering if you’d write a buck fic where they find out they’re having twins and how they tell the 118? if don’t get to it, truly no worry. just take care of yourself and remember to drink water ❤️❤️

TO BUILD A HOME | EVAN BUCKLEY

Pairing: Evan Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: You found out that you were pregnant with twins and it was time to tell 118.

Warning: just a big fluffy family

Word count: 1k

a/n: Thank you so much for this request!!! I wanted to start by saying how much I loved this request. I have to confess that I am in a scary baby fever lately and this just made me want a baby even more (help meeee) I hope you like it!!! And forgive if there’s any mistakes, english is not my first language.

Also can someone plssss give this man a baby??? After the last episode it was clear how much he is prepared AND how much he wants it!!! omg

Masterlist

...........................................

“twins?”

lying on the hospital stretcher, with an icy gel on your low stomach, you could hear Buck’s startled murmur as he repeated the doctor’s words. You were completely shocked. As if finding out the pregnancy wasn’t scare enough, you’re having twins?

Your hands were shaking and sweating, your mind was a completely mess, fear was growing in your chest. What if you weren’t good enough, what if-

“baby?” Buck’s voice woke you from your thoughts and you could see the worried look on his beautiful face. “are you feeling okay?”

“y-yes, i-i just-“

“i’ll give you a moment”

The doctor said as she wiped the gel from your belly and soon left the room leaving you two alone.

“i-i don’t know if- how can we-“

“hey hey, calm down” He held your face in his hands and his eyes met yours. “I am scared to death about this too. But we’re going to make it, we’ve faced so much so far, all the obstacles that have come our way and we’ve faced them. We are going to make it, we are going to have these babies and they are going to learn about the greatest love in the world, because they are going to be raised by us”

“and by the 118” You added and let out a muffled laugh. He let out a wide smile and you could see how his eyes formed little wrinkles as his smile grew. “i love you so much”

“i love you guys too” He put his hands on your stomach and gave you a little peck in your lips.

It was finally Thanksgiving morning. You and Buck agreed to wait until today to tell everyone about the pregnancy. You were helping Athena and Maddie in the kitchen, while the rest of the team was setting Bobby and Athena’s house for lunch. You didn’t wake up well this morning, the nausea that you thought was over showed its face again. You excused yourself and quickly went to the bathroom, throwing up what you didn’t even know you had in your stomach. After you cleaned yourself up you came out of the bathroom and bumped into a frowning Maddie.

“Are you feeling all right? This is the second time you’ve run to the bathroom to-“

You noticed her eyes widen and the glow of understanding appeared on her face. And your eyes widened too.

“oh my god. You are preg-“

Before she could finish her sentence you dragged her into the bathroom with you and quickly closed the door. Your heart was racing and now Maddie’s eyes were filled with tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me? How far along are you? oh my god, my brother is going to be a father. Jee is going to have a cousin” She kept murmuring and you smiled at your sister-in-law’s excitement. When your eyes met she gave a huge smile. “and how are you doing? i am so happy for you”

She hugged you tight, and you didn’t even realize you had tears in your eyes until they rolled off your face.

“that’s why Buck hasn’t taken his eyes off you all morning” You nodded, still teary-eyed, and tried to pull yourself together.

“Maddie you can’t tell anyone. We will announce it this afternoon, it’s still a surprise”

“yeah of course. I’ll try to keep my mouth shut” You gave her a serious look and she laughed. “i promise I’ll keep my mouth shut” As soon as you left the bathroom Buck was standing in the doorway with a worried look on his face.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything is great” Maddie exclaimed with her hands up and burst out laughing. As soon as she left Buck looked at you confused and you sighed.

“she knows” you both spoke together and smiled.

The table was set, everyone was seated, and Bobby began a speech about the things he was grateful for this year. He was about to start the meal, when Buck asked to speak.

“ahn, i-i’d like to- i-i’m-“

He started to stutter and you held his hand under the table. He took a deep breath looking into your eyes and your smile gave him the strength to continue.

“i am extremely grateful for this family, the 118 family, I think you all remember that I didn’t go through my best phase in the beginning, but with your help I can say that I have become a better firefighter and a better person. And I am grateful for the woman who chose me. A few years have passed since we decided to give this relationship a chance and I could never have imagined that this would become the best thing in my life, the best part of me. But today in particular I am grateful because she gave me the opportunity to be a father and I am grateful for the babies in her belly”

“what?” Eddie was the first to ask while everyone stared at you in astonishment.

“oh my god, babies? As two babies?" Maddie exclamed with tears in her eyes.

And when you confirmed it the celebration began. Everyone came up to you to congratulate and tell you how much these babies would be loved. How great you would be as parents, and of course lots of jokes about how they didn’t believe Buck could do anything good like winning you over and now getting you pregnant, you’re too much for Buck. You couldn’t have dreamed of a different scenario, a better one. The look on Buck’s face, his sincere smile on his lips as he told about the day you found out together that you were pregnant, the love that radiated from everyone around you, the caresses on your belly and the loving comments, the warm hugs.

That was the true meaning of family for you. The joy, the talking, the pregnancy planning, the hugs and smiles, went on throughout the day. And it went on during the months that followed, the homemade meals made especially for you, the gifts sent for the babies, the help to set up the babies’ room.

They were your true family.

When the day finally arrived ahead of schedule, you were home alone. Despite the fear and desperation you did what you had spent months preparing for. While on the way you called your boyfriend, you didn’t expect that you would arrive at the hospital practically together with a truck full of anxious firemen who came straight out of a call to the hospital. The nurses couldn’t stop talking about how loved you were and how anxious the firemen and their partners in the waiting room were.

And the moment has finally arrived. The Buckley babies have arrived into this world, and you and Buck couldn’t be happier.

Your family was now complete.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

5 AND 9 Hello, I have an idea for Snow, I know everyone loves the tribute reader, but a request where reader is Snow's girlfriend and Seajunus's sister, and the cliché that he approached her at the beginning out of convenience (as if he wouldn't do it ) but ends up truly falling in love with her.

but instead of telling her the truth at some point, reader finds out through a mockery from his classmates. angst angst

Snow has a reaction similar to the one he had in the movie with the death of Sejaukus

‘’No one’s ever made me feel like this.’’ + ‘’I love you, is that so impossible for you to believe?’’

I decided to add my own grain of salt and change a few small things, but I hope you like it <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The rumor was terrible and cruel, but unfortunately everything Clemensia had said was true.

The panic on his face confirmed everything. ‘’No! I mean, yes, I did, but let me explain—’’

Your response was swift, a mix of anger and betrayal. ‘’Are you kidding me? You approached me to get closer to the Plinth prize? This is worse than your classmates sucking my brother's ass to get in my father’s good graces.’’ 

 ‘’I was desperate to get the money. Without it, I can’t go to university,’’ he admitted, the weight of guilt and desperation heavy in his voice.

Or pay for rent. Or get food for Grandma’am and Tigris. But Coriolanus didn’t mention these last two. He would rather become the most hated man of Panem than reveal his family’s financial situation to anyone.

‘’Well, you can kiss goodbye to the prize. I doubt my father is gonna give it to a man who used his daughter.’’ You made a move to leave and walk past him, done with this conversation, but Coriolanus grabbed your arm in a firm grip. 

‘’Wait.’’ 

You lifted your chin to look at him, tears of pain and rage filling your eyes. ‘’How can you do this to me? I loved you, Coryo. I-I thought you did too…’’

‘’I did. I do.’’ He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes pleading for understanding. ‘’I love you, is that so impossible for you to believe?’’ 

Maybe he did love you…somewhere in his heart, but his betrayal hurt deep. 

Before Coriolanus, you never dated anyone. Some guys had asked you out, but you were set on not giving your heart to the first boy in line. You wanted to pick wisely, not wishing to end up crying and hurting like your classmates. 

You shouldn’t have assumed he was a good guy just because he was Sejanus’s friend. Turned out he was not who you had painted him to be. 

‘’You don’t use the person you love for your convenience.’’ 

Coriolanus let go of your arm and lowered his eyes, silently admitting his wrong. ‘’At the beginning it was like that, but something changed as we were spending more time together and you were no longer just a way to get the money. I’m sorry for using you and I wish our relationship had not started on a lie.’’ He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers together. ‘’I never lied about my feelings for you, though. Every time I said I loved you, I did. No one’s ever made me feel like this.’’

You wanted to believe him, he seemed honest, but lying was so easy for him. And if he was being honest about his feelings, would you ever be able to forgive him?  

—

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