#my son! my boy! you did him so much justice!! thank you so so much! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tightjeansjavi · 9 months ago

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My Joel,

A/N: I have not written a fic with this many words in a HOT minute, and boy does it feel good! What a cathartic experience this has been for me after writing Joel’s letters. I did not expect so many of you to want Joel and his dearest to have an alternative ending, but here we are 🤭 writing this has been a real treat, and I hope I have done their backstory and alternative ending justice! Buckle up, because you’re in for a wild ride! Thank you to @beardedjoel for letting me spam you with all the updates and screaming along with me 🥹 thank you to @strang3lov3 for betaing and creating these STUNNING divider mood boards for each section of the fic 💘

~word count: 14.4k~

Summary: the story of two forbidden lovers finding each other once more.

Pairing | forbidden lover!joel x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, infertility, canon typical violence, mutual pining, child abuse, mentions of S/A accusations (not by Joel) misogyny (not by Joel) homophobia/homophobic slurs (not by Joel) mutual pining, hopeless romantics, forbidden love, societal status, somewhat historically accurate language, arranged marriage (not to Joel), language, mentions of alcohol and tobacco products, virginity/virginity loss, happy ending/alternative ending, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

My Dearest,

June 1st, 1844

“This evening you are to meet the banker's son, daughter.” Your mother’s sickly sweet voice floated through your room, where you sat along the cushioned bench beneath the long window, your palm resting along your chin as you gazed out towards the gardens, the grass an unnatural shade of green compared to the common folk and farmers that would only dream of stepping foot on your family's estate. Your wealth was directly a result of your fathers parents, and their long lineage of thoroughbred horses. Your own mare was a descendant of the original three stallions imported into England in the late 1600’s.

But you were more focused on the man leading your mare, and her two stallions flocking at her hindquarters from the pasture: your Joel.

Joel Miller was a mere stable hand who was entrusted by your father himself to care for your family's prized horses. But to you? Joel was much more than just a stable hand. In fact, you begged your father one summer to increase Joel’s pay when he proved to be knowledgeable with the horses and their needs. Your father agreed, but refused to dote Joel with a new title. He was penniless compared to you, but you saw his heart before you saw his status in society. And he? He loved you from the moment you first met.

Spring, 1839

“Sir, sir!” A young Joel, 13 years of age burst into your fathers parlor, his hand-me-down clothes were soaked to the bone as the storm raged on outside the estate walls. “Dahlia’s womb has breached! Her foal is on the way!” He exclaimed with excitement.

Outside of your families prized stallions, the mares were just as valuable, bearing the next line of champions, no doubt. Dahlia belonged to your mother, and this was her third foal. Your mother couldn’t stand the presence of Joel in her home, dripping all over the floor, creating a puddle of water along the artisan rug beneath his muddy boots.

“Boy!” She snapped, setting her book down along her skirts where she was sitting near the fireplace, with perfect posture. Her eyes held a cold, unnerving stare. “You are in no state to be in my home looking like—” her pointed comment was cut off by the double doors leading to the parlor bursting open, to reveal your excited, and visibly out of breath face.

“Dahlia’s foal is on the way?!”

It was past your bedtime, but down the hall you heard the news of Dahlia, and couldn’t contain yourself. You were still in your nightgown, your hair in braids with bows tied into the ends. Joel felt a flush immediately rise to his damp cheeks at the sight of you. You were as pretty as a flower, the same age as him, and he wondered why this was the first time he’s seen you, till he remembered that most girls your age spent their days indoors preparing for marriage to a suitable husband of their fathers choosing, and inevitably bearing children down the line.

Just as quickly as his gaze fell upon you, he looked away, clearing his throat to hide the redness rising in his cheeks.

“Daughter!” Your mother scolded you when you rushed into the room and didn’t curtsy upon your arrival. She had yet to notice the bows in your hair when you quickly curtsied, fingers delicately grasping the hem of your nightgown as you bent down at the waist, one foot in front of the other just as it was ingrained into your brain for years. “Apologies, mother.” You softly squeaked out in embarrassment.

She shook her head, a displeasured look fell upon her hardened features. She rose from the couch, silk shawl clenched in her fist as she crossed the room and draped the garment across your shoulders. “Cover up your modesty.” She snapped unkindly. “Men should never see a lady in her night garments.”

I am not a lady, mother. I am a child! Is what you wanted to say, but instead you weakly nodded, muttering another apology under your breath. That’s when your mother took notice of your braids and the bows tied at the ends of them, a sign of innocent youth when you were to become a woman. She scoffed, nose upturning at the sight of them. Her cruel hand rose and fell, landing harshly against your soft cheek.

Joel visibly flinched from the sound, feeling his blood begin to boil under his soaked clothing. You had done nothing wrong! And who in their right mind slaps their own child!

Your skin stung, tears welling and nearly breaching down your cheeks when she yanked the bows from your braids and mockingly held them in front of your face. “These are for little girls. You are to become a woman, or have you forgotten?”

Your lower lip wobbled, and your knees trembled. Your eyes frantically searched the room, landing upon your father who paid no mind to your distress. He was too busy puffing away on his cigar, and even if he didn’t agree with his wife’s treatment upon you, he didn’t dare speak up about it.

“Joel, be a good lad and fetch my daughters coat. I will not be treading out in a storm such as that one, but someone from our family should be present for the birth of Dahlias foal.” He gruffed out. “Let us hope for a strong colt. There are too many fillies prancing around here.”

“Sir—” Joel started, but was cut off.

“Fetch her coat, and do not make me ask you a third time, boy.” He sternly reiterated.

“Yes, sir. Right away!” He nodded, quickly turning on his heel and exited the parlor, his eyes met your teary-eyed one briefly before he disappeared behind the open doors.

“Our daughter has no business going out in this storm, husband! Especially not with the likes of that—boy.” She seethed, stepping back from your trembling frame and walked in the direction of the fire, the now crumpled bows in her fist. She wasted no time to throw them directly into flames, watching as they were burnt up into ash immediately.

“Relax, wife.” Your father sighed, tapping out the ash from his cigar into the crystal ashtray along the table, “she is in good hands with Joel, I trust him.”

“Excuse me, miss?” a timid, youth filled voice appeared behind your shoulder, hand outstretched with your coat grasped between his fingers.

You sniffled, turning to face him and quickly wiped at your brewing tears with the back of your hand. “Thank you, Joel.” You whispered, fingers brushing his gently as you removed your coat from his grasp.

He nearly shied from your touch, a series of tingles and sparks shooting up his spine when he felt your soft touch for the first time. You reacted all the same; shocked gazes meeting before he was stepping to the side for you to pass by him first, a gentleman in nature despite coming from nothing. He cleared his throat, offering you his elbow to brace against the pounding rain and blustering winds. “I’ve got you, miss.” He whispered as your palm gently rested along the crook of his elbow.

Despite your mother’s incessant protests, Joel Miller guided you outside, acting as a physical shield as you endured the storm together. Once inside the safety of the barn, Joel parted from your side, grabbing a nearby stool for you to sit upon before entering Dahlia’s stall. You watched in pure curiosity and amazement as Joel spoke softly to the mare while her head rested in his lap. Beast trusted man; man trusted beast.

When Dahlia’s foal was born, she was not blessed with a strong colt like your father hoped for, but instead a filly. She was smaller than Dahlia’s other foals, and coal black unlike her mother’s dazzling, dappled silver coat. Joel helped the young filly stand on her long, spindly legs so that she could nurse. He was incredibly gentle, letting the filly lean her weight into him. Although Joel knew he was not allowed to name the horses, he started to call the filly ‘Little Shadow’ and only left the stall when he was certain she could stand on her own.

That’s when he remembered he wasn’t alone, and that you were still sitting upon the stool, hands clasped in your lap.

“Wanna meet her?” He suddenly asked, wiping his hands down on a nearby towel.

“Oh…” you trailed off, “I’m unsure if—”

“Nonsense.” He shook his head, a small, boy-like grin tugging on his lips. “M’sure your father would want you to have the full experience, would he not?”

“Yes, I suppose he would.” You agreed and graciously took his hand when he offered it. “He will be displeased to hear that Dahlia did not bear a strong colt.”

“I never understood that.” He mused, helping you down from the stool and gently released your hand. “A healthy foal, no matter the sex, is better than an unhealthy one, is it not?”

“Yes, this is true.” You nervously toyed with a loose thread on your coat, avoiding making eye contact with him. “She is…small though, is she not?”

He took no offense to your lack of direct eye contact. He felt undeserving to be in your presence, let alone hold your gaze? “Forgive me if this comes across negatively, miss. But must you always speak so…proper?”

You turned your nose up at his question, dropping the loose thread from your fingertips, “I am to be a lady, Joel. This is how ladies talk.”

He snorted under his breath, shaking his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I suppose you are right. And to answer your question, she may be smaller than the rest of Dahlia’s offspring, but her legs are long, and strong.” He commented thoughtfully as he walked over to the nursing foal. “She will be a winner one day, no doubt.”

“Do you wish to name her, Joel?” You asked softly, standing alongside him with your hand outstretched to gently pet the fillies jet black neck.

“Oh, miss—I could never. I was only calling her Little Shadow because well, she is like a Little Shadow.”

“I don’t think father would approve of Little Shadow…but I think Shadow is a fine name for her, sir.”

“Miss, I am not a sir.” He sighed, reaching behind him to rub the back of his neck. “I’m just a stable hand. I do not possess any titles, and I never will. I agree, Shadow is a fine name for her.”

“Joel, I have heard that you are more than just a stable hand, but I address every man as sir. It’s how I have been taught.”

He looked over at you, eyes scanning the side of your face, the same side where your cheek had been struck by your mothers cruel hand. “That it be true, I am not a man, miss. I am just a boy.”

Silence fell between the two of you while you continued to gently stroke Shadow’s neck. You could feel Joel’s gaze landing on your cheek, but you chose to ignore it despite the heat that was slowly beginning to rise to your cheeks.

“Miss…?” He sounded unsure of himself, nervous, apprehensive of the words he was about to speak next,

“Yes, Joel?”

“Forgive me, I should not be uttering these words to a lady like yourself, but the bows in your hair…I thought they were quite—pretty.” He whispered the last bit, expecting you to scold him, to scream, and surely send him to the gallows for even thinking of you in that inappropriate manner, but instead, you smiled softly.

“Thank you, Joel. Mother…doesn’t approve of them. Says they are for little girls, and not for a lady to be. But they are just ribbons, are they not? I like how they look, and I wish she did too.” You sighed, eyes casting downwards.

He was more bold this time around as the images of your mothers hand making contact with your soft cheek flashes in his mind, “she should have never laid a hand upon you like that, miss. You did nothing wrong! Forgive me—I have forgotten my place.” He dropped his chin between his shoulders in shame.

You wept then, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at the phantom sting of your mothers palm. You slowly sank down into the straw bed, head in your hands. You looked so small, frail, weak, and Joel never wanted you to feel this way again.

At first he didn’t know how to react to your distress, but soon he found himself sinking down to his knees in front of you, his hands trembling as he reached out to grasp your covered shoulders, “my dearest, do not weep, please. Your mother has never learned kindness in her life, but you? You—” he struggled to find his words, his empathetic nature coming out in full swing.

You slowly tilted your chin upwards to meet his gaze, glassy eyes boring into his. You both took a sharp inhale of breath, time seemed to cease completely. The storm outside raged on, the wind whipped and howled outside the heavy barn doors when Joel Miller’s calloused palms gently cradled your face, thumbs brushing away your glistening tears.

1842

Spring turned to summer, summer to fall, and fall to winter. Your Joel transformed into a man before your very eyes. In your youth he showed you how to run, to make mud pies, to swim in the river, despite your mothers disapproval. Your father showed an inkling of care to allow your years before marriage to be spent with Joel by your side.

On the approach of your sixteenth birthday, Joel Miller no longer looked like a boy in your eyes. He was a man, and for the first time in your life, you felt that forbidden part between your thighs come alive at the sight of him. He had grown taller, his arms filling in, paired with strong thighs. The muscles in his back and shoulders were defined with laborious hours of work. His chiseled jaw was speckled with facial hair, paired with unruly curls that you wished you could feel their softness between your fingers. You found yourself transfixed by his lips and often imagined how they would feel pressed to yours in a heated embrace. The only thing about your Joel that didn’t change with age was his eyes; the deepest pools of brown that always appeared lighter when he was graced with your presence.

Your father treated him like a son, inviting him out on the weekends to go fox hunting with your brothers. The prospect of attending college was even on the horizon for him, and Joel could taste his new life brewing on his tongue. His feelings grew for you over the years, feeling his heart flutter and clench whenever you would look his way. Even in your modest attire, he envisioned your womanly figure beneath your layers of tooled skirts. Every night before he laid his body to sleep, he would imagine your lips pressing to his own until the thought of it had begun to drive him mad.

So upon your sixteenth birthday, he approached your father in his office with only one thought on his mind; asking for your fathers permission, and blessing to court, and eventually marry you.

“Come in.” Your father’s voice rasped behind the closed door.

Joel took a deep breath, rubbing his sweaty palms along the front of his trousers, bringing one hand up to smooth down his untamed curls. His calloused palm grasped the brass handle and slowly pushed it open.

Your father was seated behind his desk, cigar smoke wafting through the air in a swirling pattern from where it rested between his lips. He looked at Joel expectantly, arms crossed behind his head in a lax position. “Joel, my boy. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Joel stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him softly. He momentarily glanced out a large window overlooking the gardens where in just a few hours, your party would be in full swing. “Good afternoon, sir.” He nodded curtly, “beautiful day we’re having, yes? The weather will be exceptional for your daughter's birthday this evening.”

My Dearest.

“Yes, indeed. The weather has been lovely.” Your father mused. “If you’re asking if you can attend tonight’s festivities, you already know my answer, Joel. The lady of the house wouldn’t stand for it.” He waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

“Yes, of course, sir. I won’t be on the grounds this evening. A few friends have invited me to the tavern for drinks. I won’t be out late, I swear it.”

“I see.” Your father nodded, “a handsome young man such as yourself oughta get out there more.” He agreed, “So, what are you here for then?”

Shit.

“Sir, I have—known your daughter for many years now, as you are aware. I am also aware that she has many suitors lined up to offer her hand in marriage, but sir, if I was given your blessing, and permission, I would—”

“Joel.” Your father’s tone cut through the younger man like a sharpened blade. “My daughter has already been promised to another. Do not take me for a fool, boy. I have seen the way your gaze lingers on her longer than what would even be described as appropriate. I see the way she looks at you, Joel. I have bit my tongue on this matter because I happen to like you, son. What I can offer you is another lady, at your choosing. You can live a happy, comfortable life and hold a title that you would never otherwise possess. My suggestion is that you accept my generous offer, and throw away your fantasy of ever marrying my daughter.”

Joel swallowed his disappointment down with a heavy gulp. He was naive to believe that he could ever be granted with your fathers blessing. How foolish of him to believe that a man such as himself, would ever end up with the likes of you. It was a fantasy, an unattainable dream that he was better off extinguishing now instead of dwelling on what could never be. He nodded slowly, trying to ignore the way his heart submerged to the very pits of his stomach. “I understand, sir.” He finally spoke.

“Good lad. I knew you were a smart one from the start. Now, this stays between you and I, alright?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. You didn’t hear this from me, but the lady of the house plans to retire early this evening. If you see the opportunity to whisk my daughter away for one evening, take it. If it sours, do not even think about taking me down with you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Sir?” Joel sounded confused, his eyes going wide momentarily, “I’m confused—”

“Treat my daughter to a night that she will never forget, so that in her later years, when she is in misery after bearing her husband's children, and finds herself in a loveless marriage, she will have her memories of you to look back on. Do not, and I mean by any means, get caught and throw your life away so foolishly.”

“I—I understand, sir.” He stuttered out, his heart lurching in his chest at the prospect of one evening with you in his embrace. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.” He gushed earnestly.

“Leave now, Joel. Do not speak of this to anyone.”

“I won’t, sir. I promise.”

All evening you danced merrily and socialized with the upper socialites of Texas with a fake smile plastered on your pretty painted lips. You searched high and low for your Joel all evening. Your gaze lingered, heart skipping a beat anytime a man that resembled him would stride past, only to be met with bitter disappointment when they would turn their cheek towards you and the resemblance would dissipate like the bubbles in your champagne flute. Your mother had retired for the evening, and your father was in his parlor with his colleagues, smoking, drinking, and playing hands of poker.

And then you felt a presence brush past your bare shoulder, the skirts of your dress ruffling in the warm summer breeze. A shred of parchment was placed into your palm discreetly as you watched the inconspicuous figure disappear in the direction of the nearby stables. Once you were certain no one was paying any attention to you, you unfolded parchment, your heart surging at the familiar penmanship.

My Dearest,

Happy sixteenth birthday. Meet me at the stables in exactly one hour.

Your Joel

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the butterflies erupted and fluttered wildly in your stomach, Your Joel. You brought the parchment to your lips, kissing his words, your lashes fluttering shut.

As the minutes ticked by, your excitement heightened, and when it was ten minutes to the hour, you snuck off to the stables with a visible pep in your step. The barn door was left ajar upon your entering, and when you turned the corner, you found your Joel inside of Shadow’s stall, bows and flowers were braided delicately throughout her luscious mane and tail. When he sensed your presence, he turned around, the biggest grin plastered on his face, dimples peeking through, one stray curl falling across his forehead that was begging to be brushed away by your soft fingertips.

“Joel.” You breathed out, smile mimicking his own.

“My Dearest.” His heart surged in his chest, and then you were launching yourself into his arms unexpectedly. He caught you, of course, hugging you tightly to his broad frame. “No one saw you, right?”

“No.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands fell to your waist. “Shadow looks beautiful! What’s the occasion?”

He chuckled warmly, tilting his forehead to rest upon yours with a sigh of relief, “she doesn’t look nearly as beautiful as you, darlin.’ And why for your birthday, of course!”

His warm, timbre laugh sent your stomach somersaulting, and your mind feeling dizzy. “An evening ride through the countryside, is that my present from you?” You teased him lightly, threading your fingers through the back of his hair.

“No, no, my sweet. It’s actually…a surprise. Are you up for it? Oh! You’ll be needing these, however.” He reluctantly departed from your embrace, stepping off to the side to lift a rucksack from the ground. “I believe they’re your size.”

You raised a curious brow as he handed the rucksack off to you. “You mean, I get an excuse to wear something outside of my fine dresses?” You gasped softly.

“Mhm.” He nodded, smile playing on his lips at your pure excitement over something so small. “I’ll uh—give you some privacy to change.” He cleared his throat, eyes dancing in the direction opposite of you as he turned on his heel so his back would be facing you.

Secretly, you wanted him to see you undress from your obnoxious layers and reveal your untouched skin to his admiring gaze. The times that you would swim in the river together were different. You were both still children, and your womanly curves hadn’t made their appearance just yet.

He silently listened to your fine skirts fall to the dusty barn floor and he was half tempted to peek, but remained respectful as you undressed. Once you gave him the okay, he slowly turned around to face you once more. Gone were your frilly heavy skirts that dragged along the floor with each step that you took. Your skirt was still long, but not as weighted and while the bodice was still fairly constricting, the sleeves were dainty and hung off the side of your shoulders like silk drapery. Your mother would certainly have a fit if she saw you dressed so un-modestly.

“So…” You trailed off, “how do I look?” You twirled on your heel, your smile never faltering.

He unashamedly looked you up and down, twice, before one strong arm looped around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, caging you against him.

“Pardon my French, mademoiselle, but you look fuckin’ stunning.”

You giggled, hands resting against his chest to brace yourself against him. It was the sweetest sound that had ever graced his ears; your laugh.

“Thank you, sir. Mother would scold me if she saw me dressed like this!” You giggled again when his nose came to nuzzle against your cheek, bristles in his beard gently scraping against your skin, “she would, my dearest. But don’t worry about any of that, okay? Tonight you will have the time of your life with me, and your mother will have no say in it.” He assured you.

—

You rode into town on horseback, Shadow moving swiftly with Joel steering her with the reins and you behind him with your arms wrapped around him, pressing yourself as close to his back as possible. You had never been to a tavern before, but tonight would certainly be a night of firsts.

Your first sips of Ale were with Joel by your side, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned over, warm breath fanning your face as he asked you what you thought about the taste.

Truthfully? Ale was not your first drink of choice, but you had an understanding for the appeal of it. Joel agreed, and whispered in your ear that he thought it tasted like shit. His tone and crude remark sent you giggling in tandem.

Now, whiskey on the other hand? You enjoyed the smoky flavor that lingered on your tongue and the way it instantly sent a warm fire simmering in your belly, and heat to flood your cheeks. You danced, laughed, drank and you even played a hand of poker! No one in the tavern knew of your status, your wealth. Everyone in the rowdy establishment was just there living, and you silently wished for your life to always be this freeing.

When the tavern closed for the night, you and Joel strolled down the street, hand in hand. The late evening air held that familiar summer sweetness, crickets chirping, fireflies dancing around your heads. Another pair of lovers strolled in front of you and Joel, seemingly unable to keep their hands off of one another as they neared the town inn. Would that be you and your Joel?

His palm felt clammy in your palm, but his face gave no distinction that he was absolutely freaking the fuck out inside at the prospect of finally getting the privilege to press his lips to yours.

“Shadow is staying at the inn’s barn for the evening, my dearest. It’s far too late for either of us to return back to the estate…” he trailed off, eyes casting in your direction to await your response.

“Joel…” you sighed, loosening your grip around his hand, nearly dropping it entirely. “We—we have to go back. Father, mother—”

“My dearest, your mother has retired early for the evening, and your father is probably too deep in a hand of poker to even notice your absence.” He spoke softly, slowly bringing your entwined fingers up to his face, illuminated in a soft, warm glow from the flickering street lights lining the walkway. He brushed his lips against the outside of your hand, eyes locking onto yours, “I understand if you don’t desire me the way I desire you, my dearest. And if that is the case, we can leave immediately—”

“I—I desire you plenty, my Joel. All evening at the party, I kept seeing the resemblance of your beautiful face in every male passerby, but none of them were you. I’m just—I’m so afraid, Joel. My heart—it feels so deeply for you, but it’s forbidden. You and I both know the bitter truth of what we can never be.”

“My dearest, tonight we need not be afraid, okay? It is your birthday, your special day, and there is nowhere else in this world that I would rather be, than here with you. I ask you for nothing, only to trust me. Trust your Joel.”

You could feel yourself caving into his words, your body drawn to be closer to him as if by some invisible force pulling you into his chest. “I trust you always, my Joel.”

He nodded, pressing another sweet kiss to the outside of your hand. You moved in sync, his strong, broad body caging you against the brick wall of the inn, his hands, calloused and warm, holding your face between them as if you were fine delicate china. His forehead came to rest upon yours, warm breath fanning your face, “can I kiss you, my dearest?”

“Please, my Joel.” You breathed out, fingers gently resting along the nape of his neck. “You—you will be my first.” You whispered.

“And you will be mine, my dearest.” He rasped, thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones, feeling his heartbeat faster, and faster, when his lips finally brushed upon your own, both of your inexperience showing, but nature took over when your lips finally met, pressing against one another. Your breath hitched in your throat, fingers tightening around his soft curls, pulling him in closer. You wanted to crawl inside his skin, make a home inside of his heart and never leave.

“I—have never felt a sweetness upon my lips till I have kissed you, my dearest.” He murmured sweetly against your locked lips, taking the leap of what felt right when your lips parted like the narrow sea for him to slowly lick into your mouth so your tongues could meet, and dance.

An unexpected moan slipped past your lips when he licked into your mouth, a sound only for his ears, sending blood flowing southwards beneath his trousers and directly to his groin. He parted from the kiss momentarily, a string of translucent saliva hung between your swollen lips. He dived back in seconds later, but this time you felt his lips upon your neck, sucking, kissing, licking at your throat and all the way back up to your lips.

“I scraped up enough money to afford us a night at the inn, my dearest.” He let out a soft grunt when your nails lightly scratched his scalp, and your fingers tugged on the root of his curls, “do you wish to—”

“Yes, my Joel.” You didn’t even wait for him to finish his question, you already knew your answer was going to be yes.

He chuckled at your eagerness, letting his hands drop from your face and rest along your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, “lay beside me tonight, my love?”

“Yes, my Joel. I wish for that.”

He smiled into the kiss, the butterflies in his own stomach were no longer fluttering wildly, his nerves were gone because never in his life had he been more sure about his feelings till now. It was a moment of calm that both you and he felt in one another’s embrace. “Then let it be known that tonight, beneath the stars, I will make love to you, my dearest.” The words he spoke fell like a sweet oath upon your lips.

You kissed him once more, before your lips parted, but only for a little while. He took your hand in his, fingers entwined and led you to the entrance of the inn. The room was paid for, and the excitement was beginning to tingle once more as he unlocked the door to the room you would share. A single bed to accommodate you both.

And when he laid you down, fitting in the space between your thighs, kissing every inch of your untouched skin, drawing sounds from your throat that you had never felt, nor heard before. Calloused palms moved with languid ease, undressing you with methodical care. You did the same to him, marveling at the flex of his muscles beneath your touch. He was so gentle, so patient as you parted for him like a blooming flower. He kissed you there, too. Dark head of curls moving between your thighs, strong fingers spreading you open where his tongue quickly found the little bud that had your whole body quivering, and your back bowing, arching from the mattress.

He kissed, licked, worshiped, suckled on your womanhood, the taste of you was something so foreign, yet familiar, and his cock grew heavy between his thighs, hips rutting into the mattress for any form of relief.

Your speech was slurred, broken, fragmented moans dangling from your lips, and you were only able to say one word; his name.

Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel.

And when the coil in deep within your tummy was pulled tight, and a burning warmth that could only be described as the feeling of heaven on earth, traveled from the tips of your toes and up your spine, you convulsed around his tongue, eyes rolling back into your skull, muscles spasming, your cunt pulsing, leaking along the sheets. He lapped up every sweet drop of your release, swallowing it down as if he was quenched with thirst. His eyes opened, dark pools of brown staring intensely into yours, grinning like a devil. His chin and beard glistening in your sweet nectar, illuminated by the pale moonlight casting in through the thin, billowing curtains.

He kissed up your body, finding your lips and molding his tongue around yours so you could taste yourself, too. He whispered sweet nothings between kisses when the heavy weight of his cock slowly began to press into you. Tears sprung from the sudden sharp pain caused by the stretch of him easing inside of you. He kissed away your tears, shushing you softly and promising you that it would feel good so soon, my dearest.

Your nails left crescents in his back, thighs wrapping around his waist when he was fully sheathed inside of your pulsing, hugging warmth. It was the tightest vice he ever did feel, and he never wanted to part from you.

“I’ve got you, my dearest.” He whispered upon your lips, drawing his hips back slowly, oh so slowly, before guiding them forward. The coarse dark hair on his pubic bone brushed against your own with each gentle thrust he gave you. A rhythm set in with his movements, your body naturally began to mold to his as you became one. Sweat soaked skin, tangled moans and limbs, wet kisses and words of love shared between what little space was left between you.

And when he spilled his seed deep within your womb, and he moaned your name, proclaiming his love and devotion for you with his face buried against your neck. You refused to part from one another, even as his cock softened inside of you, and your cunt no longer fluttered. You pressed your lips to his scruffy cheek, tangled your fingers through his now sweat soaked curls that were matted to his forehead and back of his neck. You held him, and he held you as the sun slowly began to rise, and the birds chirped cheerfully just outside the window.

“I don’t want to go home, my Joel. I want to stay here, with you…forever.” You whispered softly through the early morning air.

He shifted deep within you, lifting his chin and turned his cheek to the side, brushing his lips sweetly against your soft cheek. His eyes were sleepy, a dopey, boyish grin graced his features, lips curved in a perfect pout, swollen with your kisses, “I need not yet to part from you, my love. But I must return you home before your father and mother awake.”

You sighed softly, dropping your fingers from their grip on his hair to then drag across his jaw, nuzzling your nose against his and pressed a kiss to his lips, “our home, my Joel.” You gently reminded him.

He kissed you back, lashes fluttering shut to savor the moment before opening again so he could once again gaze upon your face and paint a picture in his memory to hold onto forever, “our home, my dearest.”

Reality began to rear its ugly head into both of your minds and he reluctantly parted from your kiss, drawing his hips back slowly to release his cock from your warmth. “We must return home, my dearest.” He sat back on his haunches, his softened cock wet, sticky with a mix of your combined releases and a thin layer of blood.

You slowly sat up, taking the coarse sheet with you as you gazed upon his groin for the first time. Even soft now, your sex induced eyes widened at the girth of him.

He, however, was more focused on the stain of blood on his skin, and swiped his thumb across it before his gaze landed on you, “have you…bled before, my sweet?”

You nodded, “yes, my Joel. I bleed the same time every month since my thirteenth birthday. Mother told me that it means I am ready to bear children, and I have become a woman. She told me that I would bleed again when my husband makes love to me for the first time.”

His chin falls between his shoulders, feeling them sink from the realization that he would never be your husband, and you would never be his wife. “Does it hurt…to bleed? Did I hurt you, my love?”

You shook your head, letting the sheets drop from your chest as you reached out to comfort him. “No, my love. It can be uncomfortable, but you did not hurt me. A dull sting is all I felt, nothing more. You took care of me.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently as you emerged from under the covers, “my dearest, what is to happen if…you end up bearing my children? We are both so young, I wish not to steal what remains of your youth. You deserve so much more than only what is expected of you, my lady.”

You found yourself straddling his hips with your thighs on either side of him, caging his body around yours while his arms wrapped around your waist, using his core strength to stay upright as your hands came to rest upon his face, “if I bear your children, then we could marry, Joel. We could—be together!” You spoke excitedly.

“My dearest, I—have nothing to offer you. I am penniless…we are not of the same status, and your mother and father would never allow it.” His thumbs gently stroked the dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine.

“I will speak with my father! He will understand, he must! No man will ever wish to marry me if I am bearing another’s child! Father—he’ll have to agree!”

“My dearest, what if my seed doesn’t take to your womb the first time? What if we are unable—”

You cut him off with a swift kiss to his lips, pulling him in close with your hand resting along the nape of his neck, “then we keep trying till my womb is swelling with life.”

He kissed you deeply, feeling his cock begin to stir to life between your tightly pressed bodies. He nodded, a silent agreement as he dropped one hand from where it rested against your spine and dragged it between you so that he could grasp the base of his cock and slowly press himself inside of you once more.

By the time you and Joel arrived back at the estate, the sun was already beginning to rise high above the sky. The stables were empty upon your arrival as Joel helped you dismount from Shadow. He urged you to change back into your attire that you wore to the party so that your mother, nor father would raise their suspicions. You parted ways with a kiss, a longing behind his lips as he watched you leave his embrace and walk back into the life you had always known.

At the breakfast table your mother was quick to question why you were not present in your chambers at sunrise, but you already had a rehearsed script planned in your mind. Without missing a beat, you told the story of how you had a few too many flutes of champagne, and fell asleep in the gardens.

Your mother, of course, scolded you, but your father? He had a hidden, knowing smile playing beneath his mustache.

You and Joel were extremely cautious and strategic when it came to planning your rendezvous. They happened frequently, under the cover of night when everyone was sleeping. Sometimes in the stables, sometimes in the gardens, and you even returned to the inn a few times in secret. He could not get enough of you, your kisses, or your touch. The feeling was mutual, and you both knew that the deep, profound feelings you were both experiencing was not infatuation or lust, no, you and Joel Miller were madly, deeply, tragically in love with one another.

Even in the daytime he would seek your presence, asking your father if he could accompany you on a ride through the countryside as your guide, and protector. You had picnics by the river where he would lay his head upon your skirts, eyes closed blissfully as he listened to you read love stories from Shakespeare till he would drift off, soft snores escaping his lips, your voice lulling him to a sweet slumber. Your horses would graze side by side, his stallion, your mare. Their tails swishing to fight off the pesky flies.

Upon the approach of your eighteenth birthday, you wept in Joel’s arms, for no matter how many times he spilled his seed inside of you, your womb did not swell with life; his child. You feared that his love for you would sour and rot when you broke the mournful news to him beneath comfort of the shimmering moon, and twinkling stars.

“My dearest, why do you weep? Who, or what has caused my sweet love to shed her tears?” He sank to his knees with you crumbling in his arms. His heart felt like it was being shredded to fragmented pieces when your sobs echoed off the nearby hedges in the garden where your embrace was hidden.

“My Joel!” You cried, clawing at his arms with fat, heavy tears streaming down your cheeks, “I—I’m so sorry. I have let you down, my love.”

“My dearest, how have you let me down? Tell me what is wrong! What has happened?” He spoke urgently, tone hushed.

“My womb does not swell with life, Joel! We have tried, and tried! No matter how many times, it has been fruitless! I bear you no sons, no daughters—” you wailed mournfully.

“My sweet, are you certain of this? Oh, my girl…” he felt his own tears begin to prick his eyes as he began to gently rock you in his arms. “Do you weep in sadness, or in fear? I do not care that you cannot bear me any children, my dearest. My love for you will never sour.”

“Do not lie to me, lover!” You were on the edge of snapping through your tears, “when my sole purpose in this life is to marry and bear children to my husband! There must be something wrong with me, Joel! How can you say you love me when I cannot be the woman I am expected to be! I never can fucking—”

You surprised yourself and him by your sudden crude language, but then again, spending as much time as you did with Joel, his verbiage began to rub off on you, and yours onto him.

“Then don’t be the woman you are expected to be, my love! There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing, do you hear me? I love you as you are! You are my lady, for fucks sakes! You can be whoever you want to be with me! Do you wish to be a poet? Be one! Do you wish to be a scholar? A singer? Do you wish to live a normal life where your choices are not already chosen for you?!” His voice cracked, coming out as a hoarse rasp deep from within his chest.

You fought the urge to scoff and chide him for being so naive. “My life will never be normal! Don’t you understand?! All I know is what has been chosen for me! It doesn’t matter what I want, Joel! I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth! My studies, my thoughts, opinions, have all been predisposed! Even the fucking food I consume, and the clothing on my back has been chosen for me!”

“Of course I understand! All I have ever done is understand that you and I were never cut from the same cloth! And yet, I love you all the same because what else is a man to do? My sweet, we are weeks away from your eighteenth birthday! We can run away together and carve out the life of our choosing! Fuck your parents, fuck the society we live in! Do you want to marry a man you don’t love and live in misery?! Or do you want the chance to live! To wake up at your choosing, to wear what you desire, to love freely with no prejudice? To never again live under your parents control? Don’t you want to…love me?” He was exasperated, chest heaving, nostrils flaring from the pure passion oozing from his words.

You fell silent, your lower lip wobbling, eyes glassy with tears as you looked into his eyes, taking in the redness in his cheeks, the puffing of his chest—the love pooling in his dark irises, “of course I want to love you, my Joel. I—I’m afraid! Can’t you see that? I’m expected to marry and bear my husband's children and now I cannot! If we run away together, I’ll never be able to return home! What if our love isn’t destined to make it! What if we fail—”

“Of course I can see you’re afraid, my girl. I see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice! You are safe here, with me. With your Joel! I would never, ever, ever let anything happen to you. We may not live a life of riches, but we would live a life rich in love! I—I can get a job! I will work until my bones break if it means that I get to be with you. I’ll work the railways, the mines! Any job that I can take, I will, and I’ll do it all for you.”

You kissed him then, tasting the salt from your own tears and his upon your locked lips. “We’ll move west! As far west as we can! We’ll see the ocean for the first time, plot out our land and live out our days together!” You murmured against his lips.

“California.” He promised you, kissing you deeply as his hands came to cradle your face, “a sheep ranch with Shadow and Sunfyre.”

“Why sheep, lover?” You asked softly between desperation filled kisses,

“They’re quiet, do as they're told.” He teased, chuckling when you gently swatted at his chest for making such a comment.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” You giggled, which soon turned into a moan when his fingers slipped down to your waist and hastily began to unlace your bodice, while your hand drifted downwards to undo the string on his trousers. Neither of you knew that one of your own ladies, the same lady that had been promised to Joel by your father, caught the two of you in the gardens while she was out for a midnight stroll. Her presence was undetected as you sank down around Joel’s cock beneath your skirts, moaning his name unashamedly as your entwined bodies moved in sync.

June 1st, 1844

“Yes, mother.” You responded in a practiced, complacent sweetness to appease her.

“He will make a fine husband to you, one day.” She added, her perfectly dainty fingers came to rest upon your shoulder, squeezing it with anything but a comforting touch. She didn’t notice the way your gaze lingered on your secret lover, nor did she sense your longing.

“Yes, he will, mother. I look forward to making his acquaintance.”

“Good. You have grown into being a fine young woman, daughter. Your father and I are so very proud of you.”

If only they knew that you were not the perfect, proper lady than they believed you to be, and that your heart belonged to another man.

Your Joel had requested a private audience with your father leading up to the festivities surrounding your monumental birthday. And so after bringing the horses in from the pasture, he made his way to your fathers office, closing the door quietly behind him when he was given permission to enter.

“Sir, I have wonderful news to bestow upon you, Shadow is expectin’. She was showin’ early signs a few weeks back, but it is official.”

“Wonderful news indeed, Joel. And who is the lucky stud?” Your father asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“Sunfyre, sir.”

“Ahh. What a combination. A filly, as black as the night, and a colt, as golden as the sun. I wonder what their offspring will look like.” He mused.

Joel swallowed the lump growing in his throat, his palms growing clammier by the second. He took a deep breath to calm his budding nerves, “Sir, I need to disclose something to you, but before I do, I just wanted to say that I have appreciated being able to confide in you in some capacity. I am grateful that you have taken me under your wing and offered me the chance at having a better life, but your daughter—”

“Joel.” He warned, leaning forward in his chair with his hands clasped together. “Be extremely careful with your choice in words for whatever it is you are about to tell me. Perhaps I need to remind you where your place is? Maybe I should have been wary of confiding in you, boy.”

“Sir, please. You must hear this! If you care about your daughter's happiness, and her well being, you will listen to what I have to say. I swear that our conversations have remained confidential! I have spoken about them to no one, I swear it!”

Your father let out a deep sigh, bringing his hands to his face where he pressed the pads of his fingers into the deep set wrinkles in his forehead. “Go on then.”

“Your daughter—she is unable to bear children. She is afraid of what is to become of her if she cannot bear children for her future husband, sir. And I fear for her as well! Sir, men are unkind, and she is sweet. She is sweet and kind and deserving—”

Your fathers heart slowly began to sink, his composure crumbled because of his darling little girl, who would certainly face a life of hardship and misery if you could not bear children and enact your duties as a perfect wife for your husband. He didn’t agree with it, but that was how society worked. Men ruled the house, and the women cared for their husbands and children. “How do you know of this, Joel?” Your fathers tone wavered, his eyes casting in Joel’s direction and he saw a younger version of himself in your forbidden lover.

“Sir, you know the answer to your own question.” Joel nearly whispered, avoiding direct eye contact and let his gaze fall to a portrait behind your fathers desk, two young men with their arms around one another’s shoulders.

“You love her, don’t you?” His question hung heavy in the air.

Joel froze like a deer that was inevitably caught by hunters in the meadow. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think as he listened to the sound of blood rushing in his ears and his pulse pounding, “with all of my heart, sir.”

Your father slowly nodded his head in understanding as he let out a sigh, “then you must know that you have to swallow down your feelings for my daughter for her benefit and your own. You are playing a dangerous game, Joel. One that could very well cost you your life.”

“I don’t fucking care. I have never loved another being outside of your daughter. Our love may be frowned upon and forbidden, but it is real. I have felt for her since I was just a mere boy, when the storm was raging outside and she accompanied me to see the birth of Dahlia’s foal. My love for her will never sour, it will never over ripen and rot like the low hanging fruit upon the trees. I have nothing to offer her but my heart, and that holds a weight more valuable than gold or silver.”

Your father smiled, one that did not reach his eyes as he slowly stood from his chair behind his desk and walked in front of it. “You remind me so much of my younger self, Joel. Willing to do anything for the person you love. Despite all the odds being stacked against you.”

Joel took a hesitant step back, the heel of his boot nearly catching along the rug, “do not patronize me, sir. I love your daughter, and nothing will stop me from loving her. Even after death, my love for her will remain.”

“Of course nothing will stop you, Joel. For what else is a man to do when he is in love?” He smiled sadly, a look of longing hidden behind his eyes. Joel knew the look all too well.

“I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“I’m going to tell you something that you have to swear you will never utter to anyone. It is a secret that you must take to your grave, Joel. You cannot even tell my daughter. Are we clear?”

“I swear I will not tell a single soul, sir. Not even your daughter will know.”

“Good, I trust you. You have a good heart, Joel.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Your father reached for his box of cigars, silently offering one to Joel who politely declined. It had been many, many, years since your father spoke about his past, and while he lit the end of the cigar, those memories began to surface. “I meant what I said when I told you that you remind me of my younger self.”

Joel nodded in understanding.

“When I was your age, the world was at my fingertips, Joel. It was my oyster, and I could have any lady of my choosing, but I had to marry. That was my parents one rule upon me was that I had to marry.”

“You could have any lady of your choosing, but it wasn’t a lady that held your affections, was it, sir?”

“No. It was not a lady that held my affections.”

“The man…in the portrait behind your desk, was he your…?”

“Yes, Joel. The man in the portrait was my lover. The butler's son nonetheless. I of course tried to appease my parents and court the finest lady in town, but my heart longed for my lover. We were going to run away together, Joel. It was all planned out, and I was ready to throw away my old life for him. It was, and still is taboo and forbidden to lay with the same sex. We were careful, until I came to him with the grave news that I would have to marry, and that we could no longer be together. He was angry, I was angry, we got reckless, and one night we were caught.”

“By…the lady of the house? Your now wife?”

He nodded, leaning back against the front of his desk, “yes, she was the one who caught us in the act, in my chambers. She screamed so loud, as if she was witnessing a murder! I begged her to keep her voice down but she wouldn’t listen. She was disgusted with me, and proclaimed that I would rot in eternal hell for the sins I committed.”

“What happened…to your lover, sir?”

“My own father nearly beat my lover to death in front of me. I was forced to watch the life drain from his eyes. I begged and begged for him to stop, to let him live! Maybe he would have, if it wasn’t for the lady of the house to spread a rumor that the butler's son came onto me against my will. My father didn’t want to believe that his son was a fairy, and so my lover was sentenced to hang. I visited him for the very last time when he was shackled, malnourished, and begging for death to take him. I stayed with him all night, praying that the sun would never rise. The following morning I was forced to watch him hang. Every single spectator in the crowd, except for me, cheered for the death of another fairy!” He used the back of his hand to swiftly wipe at his eyes when his tears began to well and roll down his cheeks.

“He was buried in an unmarked grave and I went through with marrying the lady of the house. I wasn’t given another choice, and on the night of our wedding, she whispered to me that she knew the truth, and that she wouldn’t hesitate to blackmail me for it.”

“I’m so sorry, sir. Your lover—you, I’m so sorry. I do not understand why people are so cruel and hateful. Love is love, is it not?”

“Please do not sympathize with me, Joel. I do not seek your sympathy. I am telling you this because if you do not swallow your feelings for my daughter, you will surely face the same fate that my lover did! Don’t you understand? She has been promised to another. She meets with the banker's son tonight and in time, they will be married. It is her duty and expectation. And you will have the choice to marry the lady I have chosen for you. Your love for my daughter will fade, and you will be grateful that it did.”

“How dare you! How dare you stand there—you coward! You could have been with your lover now if you had run away together! You had the opportunity, and didn’t seize it?! Don’t stand there and claim that my love for your daughter will fade, when yours for your dead lover has not! You stand there, weeping for him! Your life could have been different—”

Crack

Your fathers cruel fist made direct contact with Joel’s beautiful nose, the force of impact sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his face in despair as blood trickled and dripped between the grooves of his fingers, staining the golden threaded hearthrug in splotches of crimson.

“Get the fuck out of my office. It is clear that you have forgotten your place, boy. You will never marry the likes of my daughter.”

Joel retreated through the office doors with what remained of his dignity. He confided in your father purely out of trust, and he thought it was a mutual feeling. For the rest of the afternoon, leading into the evening, you did not see your Joel.

The banker’s son was polite, well-mannered, but goodness—was he a bore. You had no interest in hearing him drone on about the stock market in New York City. He didn’t bother to ask you about you, or your interests as they were already predisposed by your mother.

Fucking cunt.

He strolled with you in the gardens with your hand lightly grasping onto his elbow. Your eyes wandered off, in search for that familiar stature, and head of distinguishable dark curls as you passed by the stables, but your Joel was nowhere to be found. Your heart sank and you asked the banker’s son, Timothy, if he would mind giving you a moment of privacy in the garden's gazebo. He obliged, but not before he could press an affectionate kiss to the outside of your hand. The bristles in his perfectly groomed mustache tickled your skin before he reluctantly pulled away.

You let out a sigh of relief, your posture returning to a relaxed state as you watched him walk back towards the festivities inside. When you were certain that he was not lingering, you began to nervously pace the short distance inside of the gazebo, muttering about how Joel would never just leave you like this, would he?

Where the fuck was he?

Then you heard it, the groaning of the tired wood beneath his boots, and that warm, deep rasp in his voice. “My dearest.” He croaked, and you immediately knew something was wrong, something had happened. His voice sounded far more nasally, and when you turned around to face him, that’s when you noticed the dry, crusted blood beneath his fractured nose, the rusted blood stains in his white shirt. You ran to him, delicately cradling his beautiful face in your palms.

“My Joel!” You cried, “what has happened? Who has done this to you! Your nose—your beautiful nose!”

“Hush, my darling. It’s—just a fracture, lover. It will heal.” He lowered his tone to a whisper, his hands slowly coming to rest around your waist. “It does not matter who did this to me, my dearest.”

“How can you say such a thing? Joel, please, my love, who did this to you?” You softly begged, thumbs gently stroking the scruff speckled on his strong jaw.

“Your father.” He murmured, bitterness laced in his words.

“What?” You murmured in disbelief, dropping your hands from his face, refusing to believe it. “Why would he do such a thing to you! Joel, please, please tell me what happened!”

“My love, please promise you will not hate me for what I am about to utter. Swear to me that you won’t.” He pleaded, tightening his grip around your waist in fear that you would slip between his fingers like grains of sand.

“I swear it.”

“He knows about us, my dearest. He knows that I love you, and you love me. He knows that you cannot bear children because I am the one who confided in him this afternoon. I did it in hopes that he would understand, and stop the banker's son from courting you tonight. I—I thought maybe we wouldn’t have to run away, and we would be accepted as lovers!”

“Oh Joel, they will never accept us! You stupid, stupid, beautiful little fool.” You sniffled sadly, feeling your tears oncoming. “You are too good for this world and everyone in it! Your heart is made of pure gold, and I love you for it, but now you have put yourself in grave danger! That was so fucking stupid of you to do, lover.”

“My sweet, I may be a fool, but what else is a man to do when he is in love? Your father knows, yes, but now we must seize our opportunity to leave, tonight! The party is in full swing, is it not? No one will notice your absence, my dearest. If we don’t leave tonight, I fear we will never have another chance at eternal happiness.”

You swallow down your tears, melting into his embrace and his words. “The banker’s son waits for me inside, it will be suspicious if I do not return to him within the hour…” you trailed off.

“Are you having your doubts, my love?”

“No, no! Of course not. I am in fear that we will be caught if we aren’t careful, my Joel. I will return to him and you will go to my chambers. Lock the doors and do not open them for anyone. Take the back entrance, through the kitchens! No one will see you, I swear it.” You reached for his hands on your waist, interlocking your fingers through his.

“And you? I cannot fathom thinking of the banker’s son touching—”

“My Joel, please do not allow your thoughts to sour. I am expected to dance with him and when the timing is right, I will come find you. I promise.”

He nodded, bringing your clasped hands up to his face so he could kiss your knuckles, wincing from the dull ache in his nose.

“Together?” He murmured, eyes locking onto yours.

“Always.”

You parted ways after he kissed you, promising you that all this pain would be worth it in the end, and of course, you believed him, for what else is a girl to do when she is in love?

You returned to Timothy’s side, assuring him that you just needed to be alone with your thoughts. He was an understanding man, and you could understand why your father assumed that he would be a perfect match for you, but no one would ever be your Joel. And while you danced, and made small talk with him and his friends, Joel was making his way through the kitchens, ducking into one of the main hallways, muscle memory guiding him the way to your chambers, but unbeknownst to him, he was being followed.

It was a quarter to midnight and your lover could hear the party growing rowdier by the minute even behind your locked doors. He grew weary, doubts settling into his mind that perhaps you had forgotten him. Perhaps you were having a good time with the fucking bankers son. His spirits lifted when he heard the sound of a key being inserted in the lock. He sprung up from the edge of your perfectly made up bed, heart racing in his chest when the doors opened.

His face fell, blood running ice cold when the person revealed behind the door was not you, but the lady who was promised to him by your father. He took a step back, palms growing clammy.

“How did I know that you would be lingering in her chambers, Joel?” She closed the doors behind her and locked them for good measure. “What would her father say if he knew you were in here…hmm?”

“You fucking followed me here, didn’t you, Lady Florence?” He seethed, feeling like an animal trapped in the corner with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

“Because you were promised to me, or have you forgotten?” She cocked a brow in his direction, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I never approached you. Never even attempted to court you. Just because her father promised me to you, doesn’t fucking mean shit until actions are taken after words.” He snapped.

“I suppose, but then again, you’re in a not so favorable position, Joel. Trespassing after hours, and in his daughter's chambers nonetheless? I’m almost certain you would hang for such a crime.” She mused, stepping closer to where he had tucked himself nearly into a corner closest to the window. “Perhaps he would love to hear how I caught you and his daughter fucking in the gardens a few weeks back. How truly reckless of you both.” She tsked.

He scoffed at her attempt at blackmailing him in such a petty way. “Your threats are made in vain. Her father already knows about my love for his daughter. He’s well aware, and you look fucking desperate and pathetic at your attempt to blackmail me.”

“Blackmail you? Joel, you have me all wrong!” She laughed, “I don’t have the heart to blackmail you!”

“Then what the fuck do you call what you just attempted to do, hmm? Don’t take me for a fool! You are nothing but a jealous little—”

“Joel? It’s me, my love. I don’t have my key…someone must have nicked it!” You whispered through the outside of the closed door, looking around the vacant hallway anxiously. “Are you in there?”

He strode past Florence, shoulder checking her on his way to the door and quickly unlocked it, ushering you inside before closing and locking it again.

Your eyes landed on his face, and then trailed over his shoulder to Florence, one of your ladies, who you had believed up until this point was loyal, and not a conniving little—

“Lady Florence? What are you doing in my chambers? What is going on?!”

Joel reached for bare forearm with a gentle grip to pull you back. “My dearest, it isn’t what you think! Lady Florence is the one who nicked your key and followed me to your chambers! She cornered me, threatened me with blackmail, and claimed that she caught you and I in the gardens weeks ago!”

“Is this true?” You felt saddened, betrayed, and disappointed. “Flo, how could you do such a thing to me? I thought we were friends!”

“My lady—he lies! I never would steal from you, he is the one to corner me! He sought me out, forcing me into your chambers—” she lied between her teeth, digging herself in a graver hole than she was planning.

“LIAR!” you yelled, ripping your arm from Joel’s grasp, “he would never lay a hand on a lady, nor pressure her! You speak only of lies Florence!”

“Lover! We do not have the time for this! We have to go, we have to go now!” Joel urged you from behind, reaching for your arm again. “She isn’t worth it! Please, we must—”

And then you heard your fathers voice booming down the hall. Your biggest fear was coming true, and now there was nowhere for you or Joel to hide when the doors bursted open, the locking mechanism snapping in half from the force of your father.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He demanded.

Lady Florence, being the snake in the grass that she was, immediately flocked to your fathers side. “Sir! You arrived just in time!” She said exasperatedly, “Your daughter was in her chambers freshening up and I went to go check on her, being the good friend that I am, when I heard her dreadful scream! I came upon the heinous crime of the filthy stable hand taking your daughter against her will!” She wept her crocodile tears. “He threatened to—”

Your father wasn’t buying it for he knew that Florence was a terrible liar, and a rotten friend. “Lady Florence, this does not concern you. Return to the party immediately, and speak this to no one.”

“But sir—”

“GET OUT!” He yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at her. She narrowed her eyes at both you and Joel before slinking out of the room, closing the doors behind her.

You immediately stepped in front of Joel, silently vowing to protect him no matter what would happen, you would not allow your father to harm another hair upon your lover's head.

“Daddy, please, I love him! Please, let us be! I know it goes against what is expected of me, but Joel is a good man! He has only ever been good to me, father!”

“Your mother will never allow it, daughter. All Joel has done is tempted you and filled your head with fantasies! You have been promised to the banker's son and that is final! You think of me to be cruel, but I am only doing what is best for you!”

“I do not care what you think is best for me, father! I do not want to marry the banker's son! I wish to be happy with my one love, and I do not care if that means that you and mother will exile me! I do not care that it means I will no longer live a life of riches! I am rich in love and happiness with him by my side!”

Your father ignored your pleas, even when you clung to his arm and dug your heels in the ground to stop him from advancing towards Joel. “Please, father! Please! I am begging you to leave him be!” You cried, and your words were caught in your throat when the backside of your fathers ring clad hand made swift contact with your cheek, sending you tumbling to the floor in shock. All Joel could see was red behind his eyes when your fathers hand made contact with your cheek. He sprung into action, but your father, despite his age, was quick, ready for Joel’s attack.

“YOU DARE FUCKIN’ LAY A HAND ON HER?!” Your lover yelled with a rage you had never heard leave his lips, “I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL YOU IF YOU LAY A HAND UPON HER AGAIN!”

Your father used Joel’s rage to his advantage, letting the younger man assume he had control of the situation when he was shoved against your tall, wooden chifferobe.

“STOP IT! PLEASE!” You cried, “BOTH OF YOU, PLEASE STOP!”

In your moment of distress, Joel was distracted for a millisecond too long when your fathers fist connected with Joel’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. He landed another hit, and then another, weakening Joel enough that he crumbled to his knees, bringing his arms over his head to block out the fists raining down upon him.

Your father was relentless, grabbing your lover by the back of his neck, yanking it upwards so he was forced to look up at the older man from his knees. He bent down to his level, getting close to his ear and whispered only for him to hear “I warned you this would end badly if you weren’t careful, boy.”

Joel spit a mixture of congealed blood and saliva directly onto his face, spattering it in speckles of crimson. “Fuck you, you coward.” He hissed between gritted teeth.

Your fathers fist trembled, his hand surely was broken, but all he could think about was how he was forced to watch his own lover be beaten in the same fashion, and now he was on the delivering end of it. “Get out.” He seethed. “Leave the property before lady Florence runs her large mouth to the lady of the house and spreads a false rumor about you and my daughter. Leave before I change my mind, Joel.”

Defeat; complete and utter defeat is all Joel Miller felt in his bones when your father released him with a rough shove to the ground. He struggled to sit up, coughing up more blood, and when you attempted to crawl to his side, your father grasped your elbow and yanked you to the door.

your fading screams of his name echoed down the hall as your father dragged you further and further away.

Bruised, beaten, and feeling hopeless, Joel Miller forced himself to his feet and obeyed your fathers word to leave while he still had the chance. He felt like a coward now, but what else could he do? If he stayed, surely he would face the gallows for a crime that he didn’t commit. Lady Florence had infact gone to run her big mouth to the lady of the house, claiming that Joel Miller raped you in your bed chambers. It was of course a fabricated lie, and only lady Florence, Joel, your father, and you knew the truth.

June 4th, 1844

My Dearest,

I am deeply remorseful for the events that transcribed three days ago. I know I have put you in an undesirable situation now with your father’s wishes for your arranged marriage to the rich banker's son. Forgive me, for I don’t care to remember his name. My dearest, do not put the blame upon yourself. If we had known that there were prying, hateful eyes watching us, I would have waited for you in the stables and not inside your chambers. Jealousy drives even the sanest of people to do the unforgivable. The deep wounds your father has inflicted upon me will heal, but my heart? Oh, how it aches for you, my dearest. If I were not a coward, I would turn back and face the gallows just to see your face one last time, for what else is a man to do when he is in love? I’m heading west, like we planned in the gardens, in hopes that you will follow me and go against your father’s wishes. Please write to me soon, tell me that you are safe, and grace me with your sweet words.

Your devoted Joel

Unspecified date.

My Joel,

I write this to you in secret. My words are only for your eyes, and when you receive my letter, tell no one, my lover. Father is angry, so very angry, and mother only speaks of hate towards you. She is determined to make me press charges against you to hang for a crime you did not commit! Father won’t stand for it and instead we have abandoned the estate, left all of our belongings including our dear horses! They will not tell me where we are going, but I miss you terribly, my Joel. My brothers have been free to marry by their choosing, but I? I cannot. It’s rather cruel, isn’t it? To be given one life and since birth, since I first opened my eyes and gazed upon the new world, my choice has been stolen from my grasp. Oh, my Joel, you speak in sorrows, but the fault lands upon my shoulders. I’m so sorry, lover. I should have been more careful and discreet with our planned rendezvous. I deeply loathe Lady Florence for spying upon us! You are right of her jealousy, and now she claims to be remorseful! Oh, I feel your lips now. Your kiss, your touch upon my skin. My love for you has not weakened, I promise. Hold my words close to your heart, my Joel. I fear I will not be able to write to you again, but I will try, for you. My Joel, you are in my thoughts, always.

You have my heart,

Your Dearest.

January 1848, one hour after dusk

The decision to leave Texas and travel to New York to stop yours and the banker’s son’s wedding could quite possibly be the last thing that Joel Miller would ever do. But how could he sleep at night knowing that you were out there, somewhere in the city, thousands of miles away. You had not written to him in so long, but that didn’t deter him from following his heart back to you. He couldn’t fathom life without you in it any longer, and what else is a man to do when he is in love?

That’s how he found himself in the familiar stables, the horses peeking their heads out from their stalls and nickering softly to him in greeting. He kept the single letter you wrote to him safely tucked away in the pocket of his coat, rucksack thrown over his shoulder with what little belongings he possessed. After a new family moved into your home he was given a higher title, a warm bed to sleep in, and he could have married his new boss's daughter and lived a comfortable, happy life, but he declined, for she would never be you, his dearest. Despite turning down every single one of her affections, she still lingered, hoping that one day she would be good enough for his affections and heart.

He was frantically tacking up Sunfyre, cinching up the girth when the barn doors creeped open and Phoebe, his boss’s daughter appeared.

“Joel?” She whispered through the cool evening air, lantern in hand to peer into the low-lit stalls, “what…are you doing?”

He let out a sigh, dropping his hand from the girth and turned around to face her, “lady Phoebe, it’s late. You shouldn’t be out after hours.”

“Neither should you.” She chastised. “Where are you going at this hour, Joel?”

“My lady, that is none of your business. Please, return home. Forget that you ever saw me.”

“You’re going after her, aren’t you? Joel, it’s been years, and she has only written back to you once! It’s in all the papers that she is marrying the banker's son. You could be happy here, with me.” She whispered the last bit, feeling her heart ache for a man who would never feel the same for her.

“Lady Phoebe, “You are a dear friend to me, but I cannot love you, for my heart belongs to another.”

“But I can love you, Joel. I’m right here! She is thousands of miles away and—”

“She is my love, my one true love, and I’ll be damned if I don’t follow my heart. Your heart sings for me, but it’s not my tune to hear. You will belong to another, I promise.” He moved from Sunfyre’s side, grasping Phoebe's hands gently in his calloused palms, “you have to let me, and what could never be between us go.”

May 6th, 1848

My Joel, if you’re out there…please, please come find me, lover.

Your Joel wasn’t even sure how the fuck he was supposed to find you in a city as large as New York City. All he knew is that today you were expected to marry the banker’s son, and he would be damned if he didn’t stop this wedding from happening. He asked nearly every passbery in the street if they knew where the biggest wedding of the month would be taking place. It took less time than expected to find his answer, and once he did, he rented the finest suit that he could afford, tucked the ring box safely in his suit pocket, and rode to the chapel.

The wedding bells were already beginning to sweetly chime, and he felt his blood run cold at the sound. Was he too late? He would never forgive himself if he was.

“If anyone here, in this room objects to the unifying marriage between this man and woman, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The officiant spoke at the head of the altar, just as the doors leading into the chapel burst open.

“I OBJECT!” Joel’s familiar voice boomed up the aisle. Hushed murmurs, and surprised gasps echoed throughout the chapel when your eyes landed upon your Joel. All time ceased as you dropped Timothy’s hands, racing down the aisle, the train of your perfectly fitted wedding dress dragged behind you.

Tears flooded your eyes as you threw yourself into your lover's embrace, clinging to him in disbelief with your hands cradling his face. “MY JOEL, YOU CAME FOR ME!”

“Of course I did, my dearest. For what else is a man to do when he is in love?” He murmured, unable to truly process all the feelings he was experiencing at once. But what did it truly matter? The time apart was years, but it was all worth it leading up to this moment.

Your father was already making his way down the aisle, followed by your mother and Timothy when Joel grasped your hand tightly in his and whisked you down the aisle towards the exit. He wasn’t going to let them take you away from him again, not this time.

His grip on your hand did not loosen at the harsh sound of your fathers voice, and even when you were running down the chapel steps in unison, he did not let go until you and him were safely tucked behind a wall of a building, out of sight from the wedding party.

He kept you safely caged against the wall, a burst of memories from the night of firsts that you shared together all those years ago. “My dearest,” he breathed, “I thought I was too late! I thought the wedding already happened and you—”

“My Joel, I—I never thought I would see you again! I only ever received your single letter and I thought that you had moved on, that you had forgotten about me!”

“What?” He shook his head, brows furrowed as he grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips, kissing every inch of your skin there. “My Dearest, I wrote to you many, many times! Did you receive all of my letters? I thought the same! I thought you forgot about your Joel.” He admitted quietly.

“Fuck! I bet it was mother, or father! I bet they were keeping your letters from me, lover! Maybe they thought that if I believed you had forgotten me, I would be more inclined to marry the banker’s son!”

“I would believe that to be true, my sweet. But none of that matters, okay? I’m here now. Your Joel is here, and I will never leave your side again.”

“I-I can’t believe you’re here! Oh, my Joel, I’m so sorry—for everything! I have not stopped thinking about you all these years, I swear it. My heart only has ever belonged to you. I wear his ring, but it means nothing to me!”

“Shh, my love. I know, I know. My heart has only ever belonged to you, my dearest. Only to you. Fuck his ring. I will remove it from your finger so you never have to gaze upon it again.” He rasped, gently grabbing your left hand, scoffing at the enormous rock on your ring finger. “And I will replace it with my own.”

“Please, my Joel.”

He slipped the banker’s son’s ring off of your finger, tucking it into his pocket before he pulled out his own ring box, revealing a smaller, dainter ring beneath the velvet cover.

“It’s not much, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t grace your finger with the largest diamond the world has ever seen, but—I love you, dearest. I came all this way because I couldn’t possibly fathom the thought of losing you to another. I have never loved another soul as I do you, and while I don’t have riches to offer you, shiny carriages, silver platters, I have my heart and I know that it’s worth something to you, darlin.’”

He slipped his ring onto your finger, where it always belonged, and then you finally kissed him, your lips meeting in gentle brush before he surged forward, kissing you with everything that he had to offer. He believed that he was hallucinating, that he was back in Texas, longing for you in his empty bed. But you were here, you were real beneath his fingertips as he licked sweetly into your mouth, hands splayed around your waist, holding you close.

“It’s perfect, my Joel.” You murmured against his lips.

“Only because the lady that wears it is the most beautiful in the entire world. Sunfyre is waiting for us down the street. We can go as far east, west, wherever your heart desires. I will love you eternally, and no one will ever keep us apart, my dearest. I swear it.”

“Let’s go home, my Joel. To Texas. Take me home.”

And so he did, for what else is a man to do when he is in love?

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animeomegas · 9 months ago

Note

I live for you and your writings <3

Anyway, I do have a request if you would like to fill it!! - how would the naruto boys (itachi, neji, sasuke, naruto) react to a stranger telling their pup off or/ scolding them for a small little mishap that happened while their back was turn? And they only realize it after a good few minutes of their pup being shouted at?

Hehe ty for all your hard work

Thank you so much!! You're so sweet <3 I really, really loved this prompt; it has taken me so long to finish, but I wanted to to it justice! I've just done Naruto and Itachi and Sasuke. But I really hope people enjoy this one!

WHEN A STRANGER SCOLDS THEIR PUP (Omega! Itachi + Naruto + Sasuke)

ITACHI

Itachi's eldest and only son, Yasu, was a very independent and responsible little boy, even though he was only 7.

So it came as no surprise when Yasu asked if he could wait outside the nesting shop instead of coming in with Itachi, because it was a beautiful day and he wanted to stand in the sun.

Itachi was originally hesitant, but with his newborn strapped to his chest, he begrudgingly agreed, knowing that it would be unfair for him to expect Yasu to be mature when it came to his baby sister, without giving him any of the benefits of that maturity.

"You must stay touching this wall at all times," Itachi said seriously, taking his little pup's hand and pressing it against the front wall of the nesting shop. "No leaving this wall unless you're coming inside the shop to find me, promise?"

"I promise," Yasu said, a serious smile on his little round face. "You can trust me, oma."

"I know, my love," Itachi whispered. He pressed a kiss to Yasu's forehead. "I won't take long."

"Okay, don't worry, oma, I'm a big brother now!"

Itachi laughed gently, standing and patting his son on the head as he did. His son was so much like him, and yet nothing like him at all.

But things only stayed sweet for about ten minutes.

Because as Itachi was wandering around looking for a new blanket for Yasu (a strategy other parents had recommend so that he didn't resent his new sister for taking up so much of Itachi's time), he heard crying.

He heard Yasu crying.

He dropped the basket to the ground with a clatter and ran out of the shop as quickly as he could, cradling his newborn safely to his chest.

What he saw caused a flash of anger so hot, he wasn't surprised when his sharigan activated on instinct.

There was a man, towering over his son, shouting and spitting at him, a large finger pointing accusatorily at Yasu's face.

Yasu's face was red as he choked on his tears. His little hand was still pressed up against the wall, but it now shook in time with his sobs.

Itachi's fingers latched onto the man's wrist with an iron grip, twisting the arm with the precision of a shinobi, just enough to hurt, but not quite enough to break. All at once, those shinobi instincts came flooding back even after all these years. He wanted to hurt this man for making his son cry, and he knew full well that he could do it.

"What do you think you are doing shouting at my son?" he said coldly, instead of breaking the man's spine like he desired.

The man's face went pale immediately. Itachi squeezed his wrist harder when the man didn't immediately reply.

"I- I-" the man stuttered, losing even more colour from his face. "I was just..."

"Not good enough," Itachi said coldly, sharigan spinning. The man whimpered pathetically. Itachi had no patience for bullies, especially those targeting his family.

Itachi held eye contact with the man for a few moments longer before he suddenly released the grip he had on the man's wrist and deactivated his sharigan. The man stumbled backwards and just barely avoided falling to the floor.

"Leave," he said coldly. The man wasted no time in doing as he was told and Itachi, despite having been the one to tell him to go, had to supress the urge to follow and eliminate the threat to his pup.

"O-Om-oma- oma," Yasu choked, tears and snot streaming down his face. He held one arm up in the universal request to be picked up, but he seemed too scared to stop touching the wall and approach Itachi himself. "O-Oma, I-I- didn't-"

Itachi suppressed the anger as best as he could and dropped down beside Yasu so that they were eye to eye. Yasu immediately barrelled into his side, still careful to avoid his baby sister.

"I'm so-sorry, oma, I didn't me-mean to! He said- he said- but you said I- I- couldn't move a-a-and-" he wailed, pushing his face into Itachi's collar bones and gripping his clothes tightly.

Itachi shushed him, "It's alright, sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong." He rubbed Yasu's back firmly, anger burning through his veins as he felt his pup's tiny shoulders shake. While Itachi didn't know what had caused the conflict, there was nothing that Yasu could have done to warrant such a disgustingly aggressive reaction.

His newborn, clearly unhappy with being smushed, soon started up her own wailing, until Itachi was crouched outside the nesting shop with two distraught pups.

Itachi could feel himself becoming frazzled as none of his attempts to calm either child worked at all. People were giving him looks, some kind and some less so, and while he had never cared much what random people thought of his parenting, it was a stark reminder that he was far from the safety of home.

"Itachi?"

Itachi actually sighed in relief when he heard you come up beside him. You were planning on meeting him here after he finished shopping, but thankfully, you seemed to be a little early.

Itachi didn't waste any time greeting you, he simply scooped the wailing baby out of the sling on his chest and passed her to you.

"What happened?" you asked, sounding baffled as you accepted the infant and immediately began soothing her. Itachi ignored you and readjusted Yasu so that he could hug him properly. The boy cried heavily into his shoulder, but at least Itachi could fully cocoon him and keep him safe from the outside world now.

It took a few minutes, but with two pairs of hands and the ability to pick Yasu up properly, both the pups started to settle, their wails turning into little sniffles.

Itachi's face must still have promised murder however, because you kept your eyes focused warily on the surroundings and didn't ask for clarification on what had happened again.

"We're going home, darling, I promise we'll be there soon." As far as Itachi was concerned upset pups needed to be at home where it was safe, so he immediately abandoned the idea of finishing his shopping.

You followed his lead and you both made it home in record time, Itachi holding Yasu and you cradling the baby. Neither of you spoke as you walked. There was a mutual understanding that you'd address what happened after you were safe.

By the time you got home, both pups had fallen into an exhausted sleep.

"What happened?" you asked quietly as you gently closed the front door behind you. "Is Yasu alright?"

Itachi took a breath to smother the barely contained burning rage, "Some fully grown adult," he emphasised the word like it was the worst insult possible, "thought it appropriate to shout at Yasu when he was waiting outside the nesting shop."

"For what reason?" you asked, baffled and angry.

"I don't care." Itachi's voice was tinged with a growl and his hands flexed protectively around Yasu. "I believe he was too frightened to get the words out regardless."

You snorted, "Good."

Itachi's smile was tinged with gleeful cruelty, "Indeed."

NARUTO

When people asked him what he disliked most about being Hokage, Naruto would always make a joke about paperwork.

That answer wasn't exactly incorrect, as he did find the paperwork tedious and irritating, but it wasn't actually the part he disliked the most.

The part that he disliked the most was how much the job kept him away from his family.

Especially his three-and-a-half year old son, Riku, who was the most precious person in the world and who was also having a hard time adjusting to Naruto not being at home as much, even though it had been almost a year since he took up the role.

He tried to make as much time as he could for Riku, sending a clone to tuck him in at night, spending his lunch break eating with him (and his mate) in his office, hell, Naruto even had a tiny pair of noise cancelling earmuffs in his desk so that Riku could sit on his lap while Naruto heard mission reports.

It wasn't perfect and it didn't feel like enough, but it was all the Naruto could do at the moment.

And today was one of the days that you and Riku would be joining him for lunch in his office.

Unfortunately, a spontaneous mission debriefing had started before he could slink away for lunch.

And while Naruto knew that it was not this team's fault that their mission had increased in rank and thus required an immediate verbal debrief, (this had happened to Naruto himself more times than he could count), he was finding it hard not to feel frustrated with the group in front of him.

They were keeping him away from his son which was making him antsy.

A glance at the clock confirmed that his family were certainly waiting for him outside by now, and the guilt was difficult to push down.

It was at that moment that the door to his office suddenly creaked open. Naruto's eyes jumped automatically to it as the team leader stopped speaking. Naruto's secretary knew he was in a meeting, so who was at the door?

At a much lower height than expected, the intruder's chubby little cheeks peaked nervously around the door. His tiny hands were held cautiously to his chest while he chewed on his bottom lip, but it was the head of bright blond hair that had Naruto's heart jumping into his throat.

It was Riku.

Naruto was already half way out of his seat when Riku finally saw him. His whole body relaxed and a smile crept onto his face as he toddled into the room. Naruto felt his own exhaustion melt away in response; his son was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

"Oma!" his son cheered. "You're here!"

Naruto laughed, forgetting all about the debrief, as he moved around his desk. "Of course, I'm here, silly. Where's appa? How did you-"

Suddenly, another person entered the room, his face twisted angrily. He grabbed Riku by the wrist, startling him and Naruto in the process.

"What did I say?!" the man, Naruto's secretary, demanded, squeezing Riku's wrist. "I told you to wait quietly, and that you weren't allowed in yet, but you barged your way in when my back was turned! Out! Right now! I'm so sorry, Hokage-sama, I won't let this happen again."

Naruto had heard far worse from far scarier people when he was Riku's age, but Riku wasn't like him. He wasn't capable of the bravado and retaliation that Naruto had used to limp through his childhood, no. Riku was a sensitive child. He needed everyone to like him, to be gentle with him, and Naruto knew that he wouldn't be able to cope with such blatant negative attention.

Naruto watched as his pup's anxiety spiked, and he felt his heart drop in response. Riku's wide eyes bubbled over with heavy tears that covered his little flushed cheeks. His mouth moved like he was trying to speak, but he was simply too frightened to get any words out.

Naruto's secretary was not happy with the lack of movement. "Out, now!"

Riku was frozen, and when the man tugged him, knocking him off balance, all the colour drained from his face and his breathing became harsh and disjointed. To make things worse, his darling pup, who had only been out of nappies for a short few months, lost control of his bladder from fear.

Naruto saw red. A wave of killing intent swept over the room. It was so strong that Naruto was distantly aware that his guard was shifting nervously where they were hidden, and that several members of the debriefing team had fallen to their knees. Naruto only had eyes for one person though.

Naruto's secretary dropped his hold on Riku like he'd been burnt and fell heavily into the door frame, shoulder first. Naruto had fought in a war, but he'd never moved as fast as he did in that moment, as he planted himself between his secretary and his son.

"Get. Out," Naruto ground out, somehow keeping control of his voice. Naruto had never attacked a civilian, and he didn't want to start now, but if this man wasn't out of his sight in the next three seconds, something was going to snap.

Thankfully, the man didn't need to be told twice. With a terrified face and wobbly limbs, he stumbled out of the office with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. Naruto felt no guilt when he heard the man retching on the floor.

Wasting no time, Naruto spun around and grabbed his pup up and into the safety of his embrace. He didn't pay any attention to the dampness, and some of the furious anxiety left him as soon as his instincts registered that his child was safe with him.

Riku was still very stiff, but he did reach out and grab Naruto's collar. His breathing was worryingly sporadic.

Naruto cooed and purred at his pup, rocking him gently from side to side. His rage was still bubbling below the surface, but he kept his outward presentation comforting and gentle.

"Oma's here," he whispered into his pup's hair. "Oma's got you. You're safe, Riku."

Naruto sat back down in his chair and arranged Riku on his lap so that he was cocooned in his Hokage's robes. He then grabbed the earmuffs from his desk and slipped them over his pup's ears to help him calm down.

The team that had been debriefing were still stood awkwardly in front of his desk. They were all back to standing upright, but they seemed unsure of what to do seeing as it was hardly appropriate to continue the debriefing, but they also hadn't been dismissed.

"You guys can go. Just leave the report on my desk."

They all bowed and scurried out of the room.

Naruto ended up sitting there in silence for a few minutes, just processing what had happened while he calmed down his son.

He hated using his power to make others afraid. He loved being a friendly hokage that everyone could trust and look up to. But he had been so angry that he had lost control.

He was still angry, if he was being honest with himself.

And he also felt guilty. Because that small part of him that always questioned whether this job was a selfish desire, was suddenly so much louder.

This wouldn't have happened if he had been at home with his family for lunch like most parents with young children.

He was broken out of his thoughts when you arrived, fresh from your bathroom break, having walked into the aftermath of chaos.

Of course you were there; you always joined them for lunch, it had just escaped Naruto's mind until you were in front of him.

Riku had calmed down a lot, but he was still staring at the wall, holding Naruto as tightly as he could with his little hands.

"What happened?" you asked quietly, coming straight over to him and Riku. You smoothed a hand over Riku's hair and crouched down beside him. He kept one hand on Naruto and latched the other one onto your hand as soon as you were in range.

Naruto just shook his head, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. "Let's just head home. Riku needs a change of clothes and a nice bath with lots of bubbles."

To your credit, you didn't ask why, you simply nodded and allowed Riku to bury himself in your arms while Naruto gathered his things. He wasn't coming back into the office today, and he told you as much.

"Are you sure?" He pretended that your surprise didn't hurt as much as it did.

"Yes," Naruto said shortly. He needed to find a better way to balance his job and his family, because this just wasn't cutting it.

"Okay," you said easily, rocking Riku. "Let's head home then. We can talk there."

SASUKE

Some people called Sasuke an overprotective parent, but Sasuke knew that his parenting style was entirely justified.

If someone was rude to his daughter, they deserved to have their life ruined as far as he as concerned.

If teachers made up lies about her, Sasuke would refuse to listen.

If his daughter was bullied, Sasuke would go and... speak... to the parents of the bully to 'encourage' them to be better parents.

This was an entirely normal response in his opinion. That was his daughter, his child, and while he sometimes struggled to verbalise his love, his daughter would never question his dedication to her.

She was still only seven, and needed his protection.

One day, when he was walking to meet her halfway from school, he noticed that she wasn't alone.

A tall woman, much too old to be a peer from school, was standing close, shoving her finger in his daughters face. His daughter didn't look cowed. She was staring, with her arms crossed, but this didn't stop the woman from her tirade.

She started shouting about how rude his daughter was, and how that was to be expected when her oma was the village pariah.

How dare she?!

He acted without thinking.

The kunai flew from his hand before Sasuke had even registered the movement, piercing the hand of the woman who had been pointing aggressively at his pup's face.

She shrieked as the pain registered and blood began running down her arm. Sasuke watched, stoic faced, as he walked towards them. The only emotions her pain brought to him were positive ones.

His daughter whirled around and he was privileged enough to see her face turn from confused to delighted as she recognised him. She was truly the light of his life.

"Oma!" she cheered, happily. He nodded back, a small smile on his face. He was proud to see that she didn't look scared at all, but that certainly didn't excuse the adult that had been shouting at her.

"Are you crazy?!" the woman hissed, holding her hand to her chest. Her face was twisted with rage and pain instead of fear, which cemented her in Sasuke's mind as an idiot. "They'll take away your shinobi licence for this!"

Another kunai found its place in his hand. These kunai really had a mind of their own today. "Are you threatening me? After you so blatantly attacked my daughter?"

"Attacked?! That rude little-"

The kunai flew from his hand again, this time flying less than an inch from her ear. It shut her up immediately.

"Choose your next words carefully." His daughter came over to his side and hugged him around the hips. He rested a hand affectionately on her head.

"I'll be reporting this to the hokage," she hissed. Sasuke was not scared; the worst thing Naruto would do is give him a disappointed look. His lack of fear must have shown on his face because the lady stormed off, far less injured than Sasuke would have liked.

Sasuke watched her go before he knelt down to his daughter's level and scanned her from head to toe. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She grinned at him and adjusted her school bag on her shoulder. "That asshole couldn't have scared me if she tried."

"Language," Sasuke admonished gently, poking her in the forehead.

"Am I wrong, though?"

Privately, Sasuke agreed. "Let's just head home, your appa should be along any minute."

When you did meet up with them, you had to listen to your daughter singing about how she had the coolest oma in the world.

And when you wholeheartedly agreed, Sasuke could no longer keep the blush off his face.

#a/b/o #omegaverse #itachi #naruto #sasuke #headcanons #alpha!reader #hcs #reader insert #alpha reader #omega itachi #omega naruto #omega sasuke #gn reader #gender neutral reader #omega x alpha

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angels-fantasy · 10 months ago

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Hi! I really liked the Katsukis memories one, so I can suggest you make like Bakugo a few years ago got out of a really toxic relationship and he couldn’t really trust anyone because his last girlfriend or boyfriend used him for his money and fame being the no.2 hero, until he met reader. So now he’s taking them to his old childhood hood to met his parents. Mitsuki also didn’t really trust anyone to be with his baby boy, but when she saw you walk through the door, I feel like she would make a connection and had really good vibes with reader. Thank for reading!🧡💚🖤

Perfect (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Details/Warnings: established relationship, mention of a toxic ex, meeting the parents

Word Count: 1.1k

thank you for your suggestion and your kind comment! this was pretty fun to write so i hope i did it justice. i liked this :)

When someone you love treats you horribly, it's something you never forget. It scars you, and no matter how hard you try to get over it, that pain and those bad memories are always going to be there.

It takes a lot of time to heal from these kinds of things, but it's possible. For Katsuki, it took three years. His last relationship was great at first. He was happy and in love, and he thought his partner was too until they revealed their true colors.

After a year of dating they made it clear that they were only with him because of his status as a pro hero and his money. This was heart breaking of course. It hurts to find out the person you loved never loved you. Katsuki was angry and hurt, so he ended things immediately and swore to himself that he'd never date anyone again. He avoided any type of romantic relationship for the next three years while he focused on himself, until he met you.

Meeting you was unexpected, like most relationships are. He was very closed off at first and hesitant to get to know you, but you were able to crack open his shell and find him waiting on the inside.

Before you started dating, you didn't know about his past relationship but you knew something must've happened for him to be so guarded. So you made sure to let him take the lead in everything. You didn't want him to feel pressured, so you would let him make all the first moves.

When he eventually asked you to be official you were extremely happy that he trusted you enough to try dating again, since a month prior he told you about his last relationship.

Now, six months later, he wanted you to meet his parents. But they were hesitant too.

"I don't know Katsuki. Are you sure they're not like the last one?" Mitsuki asked.

Katsuki was currently at his parent's house, asking them if he could bring you over this weekend because he wanted them to meet you.

He groaned, "Yes, I'm sure. I knew them for a year before we started dating, and they're really understanding about everything that happened before."

His dad, Masaru, spoke up, "We're just worried about you son. We don't want you to get hurt like last time."

Katsuki looked down, "I know, but just trust me, okay? They're a really great person and I think you'll like them."

His parents looked at each other, then Mitsuki said "Fine. Bring them over this weekend at 5:00 pm. I'll make dinner."

Katsuki smiled.

Fast forward to the weekend, it was now the day you were meeting his parents and to say you were nervous is an understatement. Your boyfriend has mentioned before that his mom was a lot like him, so you were afraid she'd criticize you right away. He did say his dad was much calmer, but you were still afraid.

"I'm scared Katsuki. What if they don't like me?" You asked as you two parked outside of his childhood home.

He put a hand on your head, "Relax babe, I already talked to them. I know they're gonna love ya, alright? And if they don't then they can fuck off-"

"Katsuki!"

"It's true. I know they're my parents but I'm with you, and if they can't respect that then I won't talk to them."

You took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay. Can you hold my hand while we walk in?"

He nodded and did exactly as you asked as you both walked up to the large doors of the house. He knocked loudly twice before opening the door, announcing his arrival.

"Hag, I'm home!" He yelled, "Hey old man." He said to a man with glasses and brown spiky hair that was sitting at the dinner table.

The man was about to speak up but was cut off by a woman yelling, "I told you to stop calling me hag, brat!" Then, a woman that looked just like Katsuki walked out of the kitchen.

"Oh-Hello there! I'm Mistuki." She said and shook your hand.

You smiled and gave her your name, "It's so nice to meet you. You have really beautiful skin."

She laughed loudly, "That's thanks to my quirk, glycerin. Keeps my skin moisturized. Now both of you come and sit down! I made dinner for everyone."

Katsuki continued holding your hand and walked you to the dining table next to the man who you were assuming was his father.

He smiled and held out a hand, "I'm Masaru, Katsuki's father. It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope you'll excuse my wife, she can be a bit, well-I'm sure you know." He said with a small laugh. You noticed he was much more soft spoken compared to his wife and son.

You continued to talk to him and Katsuki at the table until Mitsuki came and placed the dish on the table. You were able to tell right away that she had made katsu curry.

You each served yourselves, though Katsuki kept insisting he serve you.

"Stop it. I want to do it." You said pushing him lightly.

He kissed his teeth, "Just let me do it will ya?"

"No." You then bumped him with your hip and served yourself, quickly serving him as well, making him sigh.

As you two communicated in your own way, his parents smiled at your interaction. Mitsuki was a little hesitant to, but Masaru rubbed her shoulder almost to let her know he was okay.

During dinner you all talked about everyday things, mostly surrounding you and Katsuki's relationship.

"So, how did you guys meet?" Mitsuki asked.

"We actually met at the public library." You said, "It was in the romance section, coincidentally."

"Yeah and you were picking a shitty book." Katsuki spoke up.

"Hey it wasn't my fault! I didn't even know anything about it."

As dinner went on, his parents, especially his mother, realized that you really were different than his last partner. They could see the way you cared for him just by how you spoke to him and interacted with him. Even the little touches you gave him on his shoulder or arm here and there.

At the end of the night when you said your goodbyes, his parents made sure to see you both out.

Mitsuki hugged you tightly and whispered "Thanks for taking care of my boy." Pulling away, she said "Come back anytime, all right? Don't let this brat convince you I'm crazy."

Katsuki rolled his eyes while you giggled.

Once you both drove away, Masaru asked his wife "So? What do we think?"

She nodded, "I think they're perfect."

tag list for bakugou fics: @doumadono

#@angels-fantasy #fanfiction #fanfic #anime #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #my hero academia

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haikyu-mp4 · 3 months ago

Text

The Guess Monster legacy

Your son wants to play volleyball, like his stepdad Tendo, for my Parenting event<3

requested by @sharkissm. word count; 504 – gn!reader

There was only one week left until your son was going back to school when he announced:

“I want to play volleyball.”

He looked surprised when you and Satori gasped simultaneously and turned to him. Satori was already tearing up, thinking of the summer he had spent getting to know his stepson even more after moving in with you two.

Satori could be a lot, so he did his best to tone it down while your son got used to having an extra person in the household. Even if they got along well before the wedding, he didn’t want the kid to think he was trying too hard to be a father figure to him just because they lived together now.

However, he found one thing to bond over: Passing a volleyball in the yard. Obviously, a volleyball lay amongst the things Satori brought when he moved in, and it awakened a curiosity in the active young boy. Spending time together like this gave Satori the opportunity to teach him some technique, while also giving them time alone to talk.

You would typically be off doing something else when this happened, lending your two favourite people some guy time.

Halfway through the summer vacation, they got to the point where a cheap net was put up in the yard, and Satori started giving some pointers on blocking.

So now, as your son expressed that this shared time had indeed left its trace on him, Satori couldn’t contain himself when he abandoned the laundry he was folding with you to squeeze your son in a hug.

They immediately started researching places that offered training after school, which then led to seeing which middle school he should pick for next year. You’d watch them sit huddled together, Satori’s excitement equal to his stepson’s, and nothing could have made you happier.

Few parents would attend volleyball games, but you and Satori came to as many as possible. Sometimes, you had no choice but to stay late at work instead, but Tendo would be just as insistent on coming to watch his stepson.

Let’s just say there’s a new Guess Monster around and he’s wearing that same purple uniform, because you learnt a few years later that your dear husband started saving up the very same day your son told him he wanted to play volleyball, so that he would have the option of going to any school he wanted when the time came.

In his first high school game, someone on the team asked your son who that red-haired guy singing in the bleachers was. “That’s my stepdad. He was a starting player, and middle blocker for Ushijima when they went here. They’re best friends,” he answered with pride, and you had to hand Satori the napkins much earlier than expected to dry his tears.

His stepson isn’t embarrassed of him at all. That little weirdo on the court who sang teasing songs for his opponents was happy to be a Tendo, carrying on his stepdad’s legacy.

masterlist

for the requester: this was one of my favourite requests for this event, I hope I did it justice<3 thank you for participating!

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night-night-stories-before-bed · 3 months ago

Text

Don’t take my sunshine away.

Part 3.

Warning ⚠️; blood, murder, grief.

Pairing; Bruce Wayne/Male Reader

Summary; You finally killed the Joker, avenging your son, but not before he gave Metropolis a dose of his medicine. The Justice League doesn't agree with your actions, but at least you have your husband by your side.

Note; So this is technically the last part of Dont take My Sunshine Away, but let me know if you want me to make it a real series and follow with Jason resurrection etc :).

~~~~~~~~~

The smoke and dust are heavy on your lungs, making them feel as if they were filled with cement. You fight the urge to cough, your eyes not leaving the silhouette on the ground. You can hear the regular click of the trigger you are pressing, the gun now empty and refusing to spit more bullets.

In a daze, you can barely comprehend what just happened. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was your brain trying to protect itself from more trauma. A small laugh left your mouth as you saw the puddle of blood grow under the corpse.

The Joker is dead.

You just killed him.

Half his head is gone, brain matter splattered all over the ground and his chest is pierced by so many holes you can't count them. The only thing you know is you shot his lungs and heart. The fucker was probably dead before touching ground.

A shame.

You should have made it last.

No.

Too risky. Joker was a slimy bitch, had you taken your time he would have escaped and killed more. Maybe he would have taken your son again.

Tim.

Tim!

The thought of your youngest son is enough to snap you back to reality. You gasped for air, letting go of the gun which hit the ground with a metallic thud. Your free hand is grasping clothes and you turned your gaze down to see what you were holding.

Tim’s face is pressed against your abdomen, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You can hear his soft sobs and feel his little body shaking with each of them. Poor thing is covered in ash and dust, but he doesn't look hurt. You sigh in relief, wrapping your own arms around the kid, burying your nose in his dirty hair.

- “It’s over. It’s all over baby.” You whispered before falling down on your knees.

Exhaustion hit you like a truck as the adrenaline slowly leave your body. Tim is still pressed against you as you look around, trying to make sense of what you are seeing. It takes you a few seconds before you recognized Metropolis or what is left of its downtown.

Buildings are destroyed, some still burning, and the streets are cracked. The scene seemed out of an apocalyptic movie. People running around you, some walking like zombies as lost as you were and of course, you couldn't ignore the corpses that lay around.

Swallowing hard, you grabbed Tim as you got up, carrying him in your arms. You felt his arms wrap around your neck while his legs did the same around your waist. He was finally calming down, but still shaking like a leaf.

You weren't better.

- “It’s okay, Timmy, it's okay. We are going to find…” who? Bruce… you can't remember if he was with you, probably not and if he was he is surely walking around as Batman right now. “We are going to find help and then we will get Bruce.”

Yes. Bruce would know what to do and he would help you ground yourself. He couldn't be too far either, never would he have left you and Tim alone here. You had adopted the boy barely a few weeks ago after all. His new Robin, the source of a resent fight between you and your spouse.

You didn't want Tim to know the same fate as Jason and Bruce had been hurt that you thought he would let it happen. But here you were, walking through the destruction the Joker had caused, thanking whatever God was out there that Tim was untouched. You couldn't lose another son, not when you still grieved Jason. In fact, you would never be able to grieve another child the pain was too much.

But the presence of Tim in your life made it easier. He helped you every day, and stood by your side almost every minute he was home keeping your mind busy. Tim had been able to make you laugh again. You cried when he called you dad. He never called you papa, knowing it would hurt too much. But you had missed this; being a father.

Adopting Tim had been the best thing happening to you since losing Jason.

Even the Justice League had grown fond of the boy. Well, those who Bruce welcomed into your home like Barry, J’onn and Diana. You hadn't spoken with Clark since the incident in the Batcave, refusing to hear him out or forgive him. It was petty of you and you knew it. But you couldn't forget what he had said.

Until now.

Until Tim, bless his heart, had sat you down and convinced you to make an amend with Superman. How could you say no to such a sweet eleven-year-old boy? And he was right. You couldn't hold a grudge forever.

But this changed everything. You knew Clark would be pissed off at you and probably other members of the League. You were in his city and killed the Joker, the very man that Clark refused to let you or Bruce kill. Yet, as you walked among the debris, you didn't care. Your new son was safe and unharmed in your arms and the Joker would never be able to hurt anyone else. No parents would have to bury their children anymore.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally walked away from the destruction and found help. Paramedics immediately took a look at you and Tim, confirming that your son was perfectly fine. You, on the other hand, suffered from bruised and small cut, but nothing threatening.

It wasn't long until Alfred joined you and you got inside the car. Tim stayed pressed against your side, arms wrapped around you with his hands clenching tightly your shirt. You held him close too, heart still racing in your chest as Alfred gave you a phone before driving away. He didn't need to tell you who was on the line.

- “Bruce. Oh Bruce I’m so sorry.” You said, voice shaking as the gravity of the situation finally hit you.

- “Darling, it's okay. You did nothing wrong and the only important thing is that you and Tim are safe.” Your husband said, his voice deep and calm.

You nodded silently, tears rolling down your cheeks as you kissed Tim’s hair. The boy buried his face in your chest.

- “He saved me, us, Bruce. Joker was going to kill us!”

- “I know Tim, I found the Joker. Your dad wouldn't have killed him if your life hadn't been at risk. There is nothing your dad wouldn't do to keep you safe. And that is the only thing that matters right now; you two being safe and sound.”

You smiled, lips trembling as you looked down at Tim. It was true. There was nothing you wouldn't do to keep your youngest son safe. You already lost one, still cried the loss of Jason and wouldn't survive losing Tim. Tim who was a blessing. Your sweet little baby stalker. He looked up and smiled at you too.

- “I will join you as soon as I can. For now, I have to deal with Clark and the rest of the League.” You could hear how annoyed Bruce was by that fact. Of course, he wanted to be by your side now, but couldn't. “Clark is pretty pissed off at you for killing the Joker and sending him in Metropolis. The others are on his side, except J’onn and Barry.”

- “Yeah, well where was he?” You asked, rolling your eyes. “He wasn't here to stop that maniac so what was I supposed to do? Let Joker kill us?”

- “No. Like I said, you did the right thing. I’ll deal with the League and join you at home as soon as I can.” Bruce said, calming the anger that was rising inside you. “Do you remember anything?”

- “I, yes… no… I mean we were in downtown looking for a new computer for Tim waiting for Clark and the next thing I know I was shooting the Joker.” You said, frowning as you looked outside.

- “Might be the gas that the Joker used. I still don't know how he did it, but he got his hand on Scarecrow's fear gas and released it in downtown. That's why shit hit the fan. I’m glad you were able to keep Tim and yourself safe.”

You smiled, hearing the pride in Bruce's voice and cradled Tim closer to your chest. After you hung up you felt a strange sense of peace filling you and finally began to relax. The Joker was dead, never again would he be able to hurt your husband or son or anyone else. You were… free and Jason could finally rest in peace, his murderer now burning in hell.

At home, Alfred helped Tim to clean up while you went to wash yourself and patch up your wounds. In the mirror, you stared at yourself. Bruises and cuts finally covered, but they still stunk and hitched you. Your eyes, you noticed, seemed more alive. Ironic when you just took another man’s life.

Now that you took the time to think about it, you felt strangely bad. Bruce had morals and you just broke it. You killed a man. Would Bruce ever think less of you? Be disgusted by you?

You did your best to ignore those thoughts and went to bed, exhaustion crushing you. You were half asleep when you felt Tim joining you under the blankets. His little body was shaking with fear. You wrapped your arms around him, whispering sweet words until he was deep asleep. In the darkness of the room, you watched your son sleeping and smiled faintly. You were happy that fate had given you another chance to be a father and vowed to not let anything happen to Tim, no matter the price. Looking at your sleeping child, you stopped feeling guilty about killing the Joker. If the world wanted to see you as a villain, if even your husband wanted to hate you for it, so be it. You would burn the world just to keep Tim warm.

You soon fell asleep only to wake up with callous fingers stroking your cheek. When you opened your eyes, your gaze fell on Bruce. Your husband laid down behind Tim, smiling as he looked at you. In the golden morning light, you could see how tired he was.

- “Bruce? You are already back?” You asked, voice still sleepy and barely a whisper.

- “Yes. I didn't want to stay away from you.. I needed to make sure you were fine and weren't injured.” Bruce whispered back, taking your hand in his and kissing your fingers. “I needed to be with you.”

You smiled at his affection, your thumb caressing his hand. You felt your heart swell with love for your husband, falling even more for him. Others were used to his coldness and indifference, but with you, he was always so caring.

- “You don't hate me, do you? For killing Joker.”

- “You could destroy the whole world and couldn't hate you.” Bruce replied and you knew he was being honest.

You chuckled and Bruce pressed his forehead against yours. Tim groaned and moved between you, his hands clenching your shirt as he mumbled something in his sleep. You and Bruce smiled and your spouse passed his hand into Tim’s hair. You knew it wasn't an easy situation for Bruce either as he was still grieving Jason too, but it made you happy to see him get attached to the kid. After all, Bruce wasn't one to be so open about his emotions or show affection except to you.

- “So you managed to calm the League down?” You asked, closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth of Bruce’s touch.

- “Yes. Clark was the angriest one, he felt like you tricked him.” Bruce said with a yawn.

It made you snort. As if you had planned to trick Superman into letting his downtown be destroyed by a lunatic clown. You got it, he was angry about the destruction, but it wasn't your fault. He should have been there to protect his city.

You opened your eyes when you felt Bruce’s hand back on your cheek. Your husband smiled too, staring at you with a soft look in his eyes. There was also relief and you knew he got scared by the situation. He almost lost you and Tim after all.

- “You should rest too, Bruce. You clearly need it as much as us.” You whispered and Bruce nodded.

Bruce kept his hand on your face and you slowly fell back asleep. Your little family was safe and complete and the biggest threat to it was forever gone. That night, you had the best sleep since you lost Jason and so did Bruce.

#male reader #x male reader #x reader #angst #fanfic #reader #batman #batman x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #dcu #dc comics #dc universe

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dee-writes-anime · 4 months ago

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haii!! blue here! 🫐

a birdie told me that your requests are open yehehe (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

thinking about keigo x reader where they promised to marry each other while they were kids just to met again years later

keigo x reader where reader is a single parent from a little kid

thankyouu have a great day or night <3

- blue

Soaring Sons with Hawks

FEATURING Keigo 'Hawks' Takami x Reader

SUMMARY Meeting your son for the first time :) (request by blue)

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, single mom, toddler/elementary age kid, hawks being super soft and parental (??)

AUTHORS NOTE Thank you so much for the ask, blue!! I hope I did your thoughts justice with this single-mom reader fic. I apologize for the shorter writing, my boss decided to up my hours this week so I've been dying between classwork and that T-T

Keigo had faced impossible situations before—battling villains, saving lives, even surviving high-profile scandals that shook him to his core. But standing in front of your door, waiting to meet the most important person in your life, he felt a nervousness he hadn’t experienced in years.

His wings shifted restlessly behind him, feathers trembling with the weight of his nerves. You had told him to take things slow—Ren was shy, and this was a big step. But that wasn’t what gnawed at Keigo’s gut.

It was the fear of not being enough. Not for you, and certainly not for your son.

The door opened, and there you stood, framed by the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, your smile gentle yet a little tentative. At your side, holding your hand, was Ren—small and quiet, his wide eyes staring up at Keigo with an innocent kind of wonder that made the hero’s heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, your fingers giving Ren’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Come in, Keigo.”

“Hey,” Keigo echoed, his usual playful lilt softer now, more cautious. He stepped through the door, folding his wings close to avoid knocking into anything, but his gaze was completely focused on Ren.

He crouched down, making sure not to loom over the boy, trying to make himself as unthreatening as possible. Ren stayed tucked behind your leg, peeking out at him, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes.

“So, you must be the little superhero I’ve been hearing all about,” Keigo said, his voice warm and gentle, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He kept his tone low, not wanting to overwhelm the boy.

Ren blinked, his grip on your hand still tight but loosening just a bit as his gaze flitted between Keigo and his wings.

“You have wings,” Ren whispered, his small voice breaking the silence. “Like a birdie.”

Keigo couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Slowly, he unfurled one of his wings, letting the feathers shimmer in the light as they shifted softly.

“Yeah, pretty cool, huh?” Keigo said, giving his wings a little flap to show them off. “Wanna touch ‘em?”

Ren hesitated, glancing up at you as if asking for permission. When you gave him an encouraging nod, he stepped forward, reaching out tentatively with his small hand to graze the edge of Keigo’s wing.

Keigo watched the boy’s expression carefully, seeing the awe and wonder spark behind Ren’s eyes as he marveled at the softness of the feathers. There was a quiet patience to Ren, a shyness that mirrored your own, and Keigo felt his heart swell with a tenderness he hadn’t expected.

“Do they help you fly?” Ren asked, his voice a little louder now, his initial nervousness starting to fade.

“They do,” Keigo replied, his eyes soft as he glanced between you and Ren. “And they’re also great for giving rides to special little guys like you.”

Ren’s eyes went wide, his mouth forming a small ‘O’ of surprise. “Really?”

Keigo chuckled, glancing at you for approval. You smiled at him, your eyes glowing with a quiet warmth that sent a surge of affection through him. He hadn’t seen you this relaxed in a while, and it made him want to protect this moment, to keep it safe.

“If it’s okay with your mom,” Keigo teased, looking back at Ren with a playful grin. “I could take you for a little flight. Just around the yard.”

Ren looked up at you with eager eyes, practically bouncing on his heels. You laughed softly, nodding your approval. “I think we can manage that.”

Keigo’s heart swelled with something warm and light, and he stood up, unfolding his wings fully as Ren watched in awe. He crouched down again, offering his back to the boy, who scrambled onto his shoulders with your help.

Once Ren was settled, his little arms wrapped securely around Keigo’s neck, the hero stood up slowly, making sure the boy felt safe and steady.

“You ready?” Keigo murmured, his voice gentle as he glanced over his shoulder at Ren, who nodded with wide-eyed excitement.

With a single powerful beat of his wings, they lifted off the ground, gliding into the sky in a smooth, gentle arc. Ren let out a squeal of pure delight, his laughter bubbling up as they soared above the yard, the wind rushing around them.

Keigo’s heart soared along with them. He felt Ren’s tiny arms tighten around his neck, the boy’s joy infectious as they floated higher, and in that moment, everything else melted away. The worries, the doubts, the fear of not being enough—it all faded as he listened to Ren’s laughter echoing in the sky.

When they landed softly back on the ground, Ren was still giggling, his cheeks flushed with excitement. He slid off Keigo’s back and ran to you, his eyes bright and full of wonder.

“Mom! Did you see that? I was flying!” Ren exclaimed, his face lighting up as he looked between you and Keigo.

You laughed, crouching down to wrap your arms around your son, your smile radiant. “I saw, baby. You were so brave.”

Keigo watched the two of you with a soft smile, his heart full in a way it hadn’t been in years. Ren was still bouncing with excitement, telling you all about his little flight as you listened with a mother’s quiet pride.

And as Keigo stood there, watching you and Ren, he felt something settle deep in his chest. He wasn’t just some outsider, hovering at the edges of your life anymore. In this moment, he felt like he belonged—with both of you.

He hadn’t just met your son today. He had found a place where he was more than a hero. He was someone who could be part of your world, part of Ren’s world, and for the first time in a long while, Keigo felt at peace.

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year ago

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Could I request a Bruce Wayne x son reader(plus batboys if possible) where bruce finds out reader is his bio son and has been under the care of another justice league member(if possible I’d prefer hal Jordan with reader also being a green lantern and Hal’s sidekick) his whole (or at least most of) life (could you also include hal pettily reminding Bruce that reader maybe his bio kid but he is a green lantern not a bat?)

Oh shit... Bruce is going to lose his mind. I hope I made the scene petty enough.

Summary: (Y/N) is a Green Lantern. That's what Hal Jordan says. In reality, he is a Bat and Bruce has something to say about it.

Warnings: Hal Jordan is petty, Bruce wants his son, Hal is like nope, it's up to (Y/N).

Bruce noticed something about (Y/N) Jordan, the son of Green Lantern. He has seen him without the mask and he noticed some similarities between the boy and himself. There were physical similarities, but also personality similarities.

Bruce was reminded of one girl he had an adventure with over a decade ago. He didn't think much for a couple of months, but a mission changed his mind. (Y/N) joined his dad on a mission with Batman.

Hal thought that the (Y/N) could benefit from learning from Batman. Everyone could learn something from Batman. Hal would rather die than admit that out loud, but he had respect for Batman.

(Y/N) was excited to go on a mission with Batman. He always found the man interesting and extremely badass. But he was also kind of scared of him, especially when he was completely calm, but you could tell that he was pissed beyond belief.

Where the mission went wrong was that (Y/N) got injured by Deathstroke. It seemed that Deathstroke was tasked to kill (Y/N). Who wanted Hal's son, well, Bruce's son dead?

They didn't know, Bruce promised to look into it. Hal was thankful for this and it allowed him to take care of his son. Hal knew that biologically speaking (Y/N) wasn't his son, but he didn't mind it. His partner at the time warned him and he didn't mind.

He loved (Y/N) and nothing would change it.

Well, that was until Bruce ran (Y/N)'s DNA through their database by complete accident. He was shocked when his DNA was a match. Oh no. He tried the results once more. A match again.

He looked into (Y/N) in more detail. That''s why he was so similar. His mother was the one Bruce was with over a decade ago. What the hell? Now, how is he going to break this to Hal?

He wanted his son to live with him, but he knew that (Y/N) was connected to Hal. Oh no. There was this problem. He needs to talk to Hal as soon as possible.

Bruce had to reign his emotions in when talking to Hal. He has called him into a private room in the HQ, thankfully, Superman was nowhere to be found and that was something he was happy with. Bruce didn't want anybody else to hear this.

He didn't know how well this could go. Hal is very protective of his son and who know how he would take the news.

" So Batman, what did you want to talk about? " Hal asked, sitting down.

" I wanted to talk about (Y/N). "

That got Hal's focus up to the highest level. " What about him? "

" I was looking into why Deathstroke would kill him. I must have put his DNA through the system and it came back as a match. To mine. " Bruce finished up and Hal just nodded.

" I know my then partner was pregnant. I know (Y/N) isn't mine, but I love him none the less. "

" I know that. But I want him to live with me. " Hal wanted to laugh, say that it's a joke, but Bruce was dead serious.

" Not happening. "

" Lantern, I know you are mad, but he is my son. He is something that you guys would call a bat. He belongs with me. I feel bad for not being in his life. "

" Well, Bruce, here is a fun fact. He is a Green Lantern and not a Bat. Just because your adventures don't tell you they are pregnant is not my concern. "

" I want to tell (Y/N) at least. " Bruce tried, but Hal raised his arm up to stop him.

" No. As far as (Y/N) is concerned, I'm his dad. Although I think he is suspecting it now. And if he wants to know, I will tell him. If you think about telling him, I will end you. " Hal threatened with a smile and Bruce just nodded.

Hal would most definitely make sure of that threat. " Good. And don't forget. He is a Green Lantern and not a Bat. " Hal reminded before leaving the room, leaving Bruce alone.

Now he wants to just cuddle with (Y/N). Hal shook his head as he left. (Y/N) is his son and no biology will change that.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader

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rivereclipse · 22 days ago

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Ichigo's Ray of Light

Hi! This is my first post related to IR and although I read several IR theories and analysis, I just wanted to share my cents about IR so please bear with my grammars as it was not my first language and there's a lot of spoiler written down there.

So as the title mentioned, we all know whom Ichigo's ray of light is. Well, it's definitely Rukia. Now, I always wonder why Rukia is Ichigo's ray of light. I think her name was based on a plant which sounds Rukia (sorry I can't find the said plant) and her name was actually written in hiragana. Kubo Tite also found out that her name's meaning was "Light" which fits the character and her purpose to the main character.

Rukia is really a catalyst to Ichigo. Aside from that she was the one who gave him the power and strength to protect his loved ones and people around him. He also mentioned in the end of Rukia/Soul Society rescue arc "Thank you, Rukia. Thanks to you... I think the rain... has stopped."

But how Rukia was able to stop Ichigo's rain and what was the connotation of rain on Ichigo?

Ichigo's mother died when he was nine years old. He truly believes he was the one who killed her because her death was unexplained and was no justice given. I think his inner soul was raining throughout the years he was depressed and was drowning in a lot of emotions. Loneliness, powerlessness, helplessness, disappointment. Those are the emotions he was feeling before meeting Rukia. I believe that he was grieving alone for his mother every year that they come to his mother's grave.

Ichigo was confronted by Rukia suggesting that his mother's death might be caused by a hollow which, he denied it and claiming that he was the one who killed her. Which leads them in a heated argument.

Rukia gave him space and waited for him to warm up to her and ready to share his burden with her which I think that lights up his heart a bit since he felt someone understood him. Someone understood what he really needed. He needed space for himself to digest what really happened and for him to allow his emotions to be channeled properly. I think she was very intuitive and understand how deep she will dive to his emotions. It is actually same goes with him but that's another topic.

I also think that Ichigo was not really able to talk how he feels about his tragic past and still in the process of figuring out how to deal with his emotions since he is still a teenager and that incident happens when he was a nine year old boy.

When Ichigo learned the truth about the young girl six years ago. How his mother was eaten because Grand Fisher's favorite was a woman when he was supposedly the one baited and will be eaten due to his high Spiritual Pressure. His emotions was stirred up and tries seeking for revenge and justice by settling it on his own hands when he was faced to Grand Fisher and mold his bait into the appearance of his mom.

His mother's last thoughts were transferred to the hollow so Ichigo was able to see her thoughts in which, she was grateful and proud of him. She also wanted him to leave peacefully and happy. Although he didn't defeat the hollow completely as it escaped but it did gave him a closure to his tragic past.

His father also comforted him and told him that he was not blaming Masaki's death. He wished him to get over his depression and live well and happy according to his mother's wishes.

He got a motivation to continue on being a shinigami and be strong since he wanted to protect and seek revenge for his mother's death or else his pride as a son, brother, and as himself can't face it.

If he wasn't a Shinigami, I think Ichigo will continue to carry on his grieving for his mom. He will not learn the truth about his mother's death. Worse, he will be much more drown to a lot of emotions while growing up and if he didn't address those, he may be miserable as an adult and a lot of traumas may resurface that he needs to address.

Rukia was the one who lights up and stopped the rain on Ichigo's world. She was the one who shed the truth by suggesting that a hollow may be the culprit. Somehow, she became the bridge on Ichigo's closure towards his tragic past. She also the one who gave him powers not only to protect his loved ones and people around him, but also an opportunity to defend his pride by not participating on his battle and help him.

She knocked his senses whenever he was feeling down whenever he feels disappointed in himself when his friends got hurt like Inoue and Chad when the espadas first visited the Living World and attacked them. She also believed him when he first feeling the hollow inside him. She is also the one who brings back his powers when he lost and feel powerless to Ginjo. She also uplifts him when he was betrayed by the people he loved and alone. She put faith on him when all the people in Soul Society thought he will sided with the enemy once he got his power back.

Somehow, I just wanted to give an emphasis on this panels/episode since I think it shows how Rukia was able to bring light to Ichigo and healing his past wounds by bringing closure to him. Although she did not do it directly but crossing paths with her ignites the destiny, knowledge, power, and transformation on Ichigo's life journey.

Truly, Rukia is the catalyst on Ichigo's life and truly the light of his life.

#rukia kuchiki #ichigo kurosaki #ichiruki #bleach #ichigo x rukia #pro ichiruki

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captainlunaxmen · 2 months ago

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Dragon's Healer

Chapter 2

Daemyra x Fem!reader

Dark!Aemond x fem!reader

Hello!!! Hope you're having a good day!

Here's the second chapter of my HOTD fic. I changed the age of a few characters, and I definitely took some liberty in some lore things😂 but not so much as to change the story itself. Don't worry. Once again let me know what you think, and if you want to be added to the tag list 😘

Chapter summary: Tensions are present at King's Landing like never before, even the small glimpse of hope might not be enough.

Chapter warnings: character's death (you know who),non consensual touching.

Tag list

@k1ttybean

@tojisrealwifey

@sinarainbows

Aemond smiles at me, and I take a moment to fully observe him. He's taller, that's for sure, his jaw is more defined than I remembered, hair longer too.

"Am I that unrecognisable?" He jests.

"No... well.. yes," I say, completely at loss for words, "I left you a boy and now look at you."

He shyly smiles as he nears, nearly towering over me.

"I heard about your arrival and wanted to say hi myself." He admits, he keeps hid hands behind his back, soldier stance.

"That's nice of you, Aemond." I smile at him and can't help but look at the scar on his face, "did you put those oils like I told you?"

"Of course." He nods.

"That's good to know." I raise a hand to gently touch the scar and check it, "you did good."

He briefly leans into my hand and I take it back immediately.

"Thank you." He says, "I always kept your advices at heart. Like not taking whatever people say about me as truth."

"What do you mean? Did anyone say anything?" I ask, incredulously, "about your scar? That's absurd."

"Called me a monster and all that." He explains, stepping a little closer.

"I do hope you didn't listen to any of it then." I tell him, putting the book I was reading away, to have an excuse to put some distance between us. There's something not right, but I can't quite place it.

"I tried my best," he simply replies, following me, "I kept repeating your words. The ones you used to comfort me after I lost my eye. Do you remember?" He asks, looking closely my reactions, he doesn't wait for an answer to continue, "you told me small people need to make others feel just as small, in order to feel big, because most of the time they're so ashamed they need to make someone else feel just as miserable."

"Glad you kept that in mind." I chuckle, a hint of nerves getting to me from the way he's looking at me.

"I found it." He tells me, out of nowhere, in fact, I can't help the confused look I give him.

"What?" I ask.

"The book you used to read to Haelena." He clarifies, "the one about the meaning of flowers."

"Oh really?" I excitedly smile, "that's amazing. Thank you so much."

"I have it in my chambers, I can give it to you tonight." He tells me, "after supper, father wants to dine as a family apparently."

"Uhm... of course." I say, with a little bit of uncertainty.

"I'm actually finishing an interesting chapter." He specifies.

"It's fine, Aemond." I say, trying to wave away my own worries. I think this whole tension is merely caused by being back here after so much time.

He smiles, I see him opening his mouth to say something, but the noise outside catches our attention.

"The council is starting." He states and hums, "let's hope justice stays strong today."

"Yes..." I mutter.

Something about what he said makes me stop, he's not the boy I once knew.

Without saying a word I walk out, him close behind.

"Do you promise?" I hear him ask.

"Promise?"

"To meet me here tonight..." he says, eyes hopeful.

"O-of course." I force a smile, and once he smiles too, satisfied, I head to the throne room with other nobles.

I'm quick to lose Aemond as I look for Rhaenyra and Daemon, and I find them upfront with their sons.

"Toon you long enough." Daemon whispers as I stand behind them, with Jace and Luke.

"I was in the library, have mercy." I tease him, after I see his smirk I turn to Rhaenyra, "are you okay?"

"I'll be." She shortly answers.

I deeply sigh, I catch with the corner of my eye the nervous stance of Luke beside his mother, so I give his arm a reassuring squeeze.

"Don't be nervous, Luke. Don't show them they have any power over you." I softly say, he doesn't answer, but I know he heard me and is trying. "And you," I turn to Jace, "keep the fury at bay, uh?"

He gives me an annoyed but understanding look, lets out a puff of breath and straightens his shoulder.

The chatter quickly dies down as Otto Hightower starts to speak.

"Though ot is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with withe succession od Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters." He sits on the throne, " the crown will now hear the petitions."

"Hope he's comfortable." I mutter, hearning a grin from Daemon.

"Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon." Otto announes and Vaemond immediately takes stand in the middle, after sending a glare in our direction.

"My Queen, "he greets Alicent, "my Lord Hand, the history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has tuled the seas. When the doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name." I see Daemon giving Rhaenyra a look and her nodding, "I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys' closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

"As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon." Rhaenyra interferes, I mutter her name in warning, "if you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition."

"You will have chance to make your own petition, princess Rhaenyra." Alicent stops her, scolding her almost, "do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard."

That's when Vaemond turns around to smirk in Rhaenyra's direction.

"What do you know of Velaryon blood, princess?" He asks, "I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn't recognise it."

"Cut deep, please." I can't hold myself, it's a whisper and I don't think he heard me, if he did he didn't show.

"This is about the future and survival of my House, not yours." He finishes with a look at Luke that I didn't like one bit. If he needs any help in showing his blood I'd gladly help, " my Queen, my Lord Hand." he continues, "this is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor. The Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides."

"Thank you, Ser Vaemond." Otto says and Vaemond goes back to his place, "Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon."

Rhaenyra, with quite a defeated face, takes stand in the middle too.

"If I am to garce this farce with some answers, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very..."

She can't continue due to the doors suddenly being opened. All eyes are on the sudden interruption.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the first of his name, king of the Andals and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kindoms, and protector of the Realm." The guard announces.

Hope fills my heart as I watch the king walking to his throne, I quick take a look around seeing the surprise on Otto and Alicent's faces. Vaemond is almost scared to see him, he looks at Otto for answers, but he got nothing.

I share a look with Daemon, to reassure him.

"I will sit the throne today." Viserys breathes out to Otto who can't to anything but nod his head.

The King is visibly weak, but he send the guard away, not wanting their help. He makes his way to the throne, with difficulty, he's leaning on his cane for support. When the crown falls and clatters, I see Daemon walking to his brother, retrieving the gold on the ground.

"I said I'm fine." Viserys says before seeing it's Daemon helping him, so he allows it. Daemon after helping his brother to the throne, puts the crown on his head then walks back to us.

"I must... admit... my confusion." He starts, taking back his king stance, " I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present... who might offer keener insight into Corlys Velaryon's wishes is the Princesa Rhaenys."

All eyes set on her.

"Indeed, your grace." She confidently nods and takes place in the middle of the room like Vaemond and Rhaenyra did, "it was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his true born son, Lucerys Velaryon, his mind never changed. Nor did my support of him." As Rhaenys speaks I feel relieved, almost tension melting away. "As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys' granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree."

I smile at Luke and Jace, finally seeing they're a little more relaxed, Luke for sure, I can see him breath again.

"Well..." the king starts, "the matter is settled. Again." He's almost bored, understandable, "I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides."

"You'd be wonderful, Luke." I assure him, as Rhaenya goes back next to Baela.

"Ypu break law..." apparently Vaemond still has something to say, "and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me... who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it."

"Allow it? Do not forget yourself, Vaemond." Viserys warns him.

There's a pause, Vaemond almost shaking with rage.

"That is no true Velaryon," he shouts pointing at Luke, "and certainly no nephew of mine."

"You had your turn, ser Vaemond." I say out loud this time, Vaemond glares at me.

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you.. are no more than a second son of Driftmark." The king reminds him for his place.

"You... may run your house as you see fit... but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned... "he turn to look straight at Luke, "I will not see it ended on the account of this..." he holds himself back.

"Say it." Daemon encourages him.

There's a long tense pause, Vaemond grins almost as he looks at Rhaenyra.

"Her children..." he starts," are bastards!" He shouts, "and she... is... a whore."

The nobles in the room gasps, I put a hand on Jace shoulder to keep him calm, and squeeze Luke's hand.

Viserys stands, weakly, but he stands up and draws out his dagger.

"I... will have your tongue for that." He threatens.

But Daemon is quicker and as soon as Viserys finishes his sentence, Daemon slices Vaemond's head, making everyone either scream or gasp.

Daemon casually leans on his sword looking down at the body.

"He can keep his tongue." He says.

"Disarm him!" Otto orders.

"No need." Daemon calmly says, cleaning his sword and walking back to Rhaenyra's side.

Viserys groans in pain probably.

"Call the maesters!" Alicent orders.

"Father?" Rhaenyra wants to walk to him,but stops before the stairs, she looks at me, silently telling me to check on him myself.

I make my way to Alicent holding the King with the guards help.

"Let me help, Alicent." I almost plead.

"The maesters help him just fine, we managed without you this whole time." She waves me off as she lets the guard take him to his chambers.

I helplessly look at them go, and send an apologetic look at Rhaenyra, she shakes her head to let me know it's not my fault, but her worried face remained.

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

"You asked for me, princess?" I ask as I join Princess Rhaenys at one of the balconies looking at the sea.

"Yes, my lady," she nods, "I wanted to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me."

"Me?"

"You're the only person who can clarify my doubts at the moment." She answers me.

"If I can be of help, princess, ask." I say, getting a little nervous.

"Did the princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon take any part in my son's death?" She looks straight into my eyes as she asks.

I take a moment, never braking eye contact, I can't decipher what she might think. I do know everyone thinks they killed Laenor, maybe she does too, but the question...

"I know Daemon might be reckless, and enjoys killing, you know him too. Yet, he's never been one to kill so lightly as everyone think, and Rhaenyra's wish for peace doesn't agree with such hypothesis. Don't you think?" I answer.

"You love them?" That question makes me lower my eyes, "I can see it. And I want to believe a soul like yours wouldn't fall for ill ones."

"I want to believe so too, princess." I look up at her again, seeing her soft and sad smile, "my best wishes to Lord Corlys' recovery. I do have a feeling he's too stubborn to leave us all like this."

That makes her smile a little more.

"Thank you, lady Y/n." She bows lightly and I do too, leaving her on the balcony.

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

I enter Rhaenyra and Daemon's chambers hoping they haven't left for supper yet.

"Where were you?" Daemon asks, fixing himself.

"Princess Rhaenys asked for me." I answer.

"Why?"

"She just wanted a clarification." I smile at him, "nothing to worry about."

"We thought you already headed for supper." Rhaenyra tells me.

"It's for the family why woul-"

"You're family too." She comes closer to hold my hands, "my father considers you like a daughter."

"After all this time.. I mean... I'm just your lady-" I try to say but her lips on mine stop me.

"You're more than that, and you know it. Stop your thoughts." She smiles.

"Are you sure he wants me there?" I ask, nervous.

"You're more than welcome at that table." She assures me.

"Besides... I'm not leaving you here on your own, I saw the guards sending you looks today." Daemon comes beside us, a possessive hand find its way to my waist.

"No guard was looking at me, Daemon." I roll my eyes.

"Oh yes, they were." He fully wraps his arms around me, "can't blame them, though."

I look at Rhaenyra for support, but she just smiles rolling her eyes and goes to the vanity to put her earrings on.

"Are you satisfied with the cutting?" I ask him, as he holds me to him.

"Very." He leans down to kiss my forehead, then before I could say anything more he kisses me deeply.

"Behave, we don't want to be late." Rhaenyra tells us, well, more to Daemon than me.

"I haven't kissed her in so long, let me enjoy her for a moment." He complains and leans down again to kiss me, but I turn my head, not that it prevents him to put his lips on me in any way.

"She's right." I say and he groans, complaining, "we don't want to be late."

"Don't we?" He asks against my skin.

"No." Rhaenyra smiles, but she's stern in her answer.

"Fine." He says, kissing my neck one last time, "but after supper," he takes my chin in his hand, "all mine." He winks.

"Let's go, my loves." Rhaenyra calls us, and takes my hand as we together head to the dining room.

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

There definitely tension in the room, despite the chatter. Chatter coming from the young ones, because at the table Rhaenyra and Alice don't say a word to each other, it's like they're keeping and eye on the other but without even looking.

I stand beside my seat, next to Luke by the head of the table, talking to the girls, when the doors open and the king enters and takes his place in the middle, between his daughter and his wife.

"How doo it is... to see you all tonight... together." He starts, I can see this really makes him happy.

"Pray before we begin?" Alicent asks and once Viserys agrees she starts, "may the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mwnd the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest."

At that Daemon rolls his eyes and I send him a look to tell him to behave.

"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems." Viserys declares, "my grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young princes... and their betrothed." He offers.

"Hear hear!"

And everyone raises their glasses, I smile at Luke and Rhaena, who are closer to me. I slightly see the glare Baela send to Aegon, but I can't tell why.

"Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys... the future Lord of the Tides."

"You'll be great." Rhaena tells him, after seeing the slightly flustered face of his betrothed, and I gently nudge him.

My eyes find their way on my left, Baela having the same glare as before, and this time I see clearly Aegon whispering something to Jace.

"He's not worth it, my dear." I whisper to her, and she lets out a big annoyed breath.

Thankfully, Viserys standing makes everyone silent, he looks at everyone at the table.

"It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world... yet grown so distant from each other... int he years past." He speaks, breathes with difficulty. He then removes the mask on his face revealing his almost rotten side, "my own face... is no longer a handsome one... if indeed it ever was. But tonight... I wish you to see me.. as I am. Not just a king, but your father. Your brother. Your husband... and your grand sire. Who may not, it seems...walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hols ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown... then for the sake on this old man who loves you all so dearly." His voice breaks and my heart follows, he does care about the house being one.

He weakly sits again with a groan and Rhaenyra stands up, golding her glass.

"I wish to raise my cup to her Grace, the Queen." She declares, Alicent looks up at her a mix of surprise and confusion on her face, "I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood... more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with... unfailing devotion, love and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude... and my apology." As she sits back down I genuinely smile at her.

I look at Alicent, who looks speechless, she definitely didn't expect Rhaenyra to say such things to her.

"Your graciousness moves me deeply, princess." She says, uncertain, but with honesty, "we're both mothers... and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow." She stands as well with her own glass, "I raise my cup to you... and to your house." She takes a breath, "you'll make a fine queen."

I can't hold the smile on my face, Rhaenyra softly smiles too. It might've never seemed like it, but hearing Alicent's support now means a lot to her. Everyone raises their cups and drinks.

I send Alicent a grateful look and she kindly smiles in return.

Aegon stands up, wanting to fill his glass again, but it's clear he looked for an excuse to get to Baela, so I keep my attention on him.

"I, um..." he starts whispering, filling his glass, "I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer. But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask." He 'offers', making Jace hit the table harshly and stand up.

"Jace." Baela calls softly.

Aemond too stands and they stare at each other, a hint of a challenge flashes in Aemond's eye.

Jace then grabs his glasses ans raises it.

"To Prince Aegon and... Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles."

"Well done, my boy" Viserys proudly smiles at him.

"I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena," Haelena stands too, which warms my heart, "they'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly, he just ignores you... except sometimes when he's drunk." She says, and that earns some laughs around the table, then she sits down.

I decide it's my turn to say something so I stand up with my own glass.

"I guess I'll say something too, if you let me." I say, and once Viserys nods his head, I continue, "I owe so much to this family, I probably wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for your kindness, my King. I want to raise my glass to you and all of your house, as thank you for letting me be a part of this family, may the gods protect you all." And I sit back down, Rhaenyra smiles at me fondly. Viserys nods, and a soft smile makes its way on his pained face.

"Let us have some music." Viserys says, and immediately a lively tune can be heard in the room.

Jace stands and goes to ask Haelena for a dance, and as they dance and maids bring more food and wine, the chatter at the table starts, laughter too. I chat with Rhaena, and Luke and Baela chimes in every now and then.

After a while, the guards are called to bring the king away. He's probably too weak to even stay up so much, I let out a shaky breath, feeling helpless.

"I'm afraid there's not much more to be done, don't trouble yourself." Baela soft says to me, noticing my powerless expression, I nod, understanding her words, but still feeling bad, I couldn't be of help.

Suddenly there a bang in the table and the music stops.

We all look up to Aemond standing and harshly grabing his glass.

"Final tribute." he declares, I don't know exactly why, but there's tension in the room again all of a sudden,"to the health of my nephews: Jace... Luke... and Jeoffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... hm... strong."

"Aemond." Alicent says his name as a warning, but he ignores her.

"Come... let us drain our cups to these three...strong boys."

"I dare you to say that again." Jace loudly challenges.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment." He walks towards him, Luke stands too, "do you not think yourself strong?"

Jace punches Aemond as Aegon grabs Luke, preventing him from getting near them.

We all stand up, Baela's temper can't take it anymore and needs to be held back by Rhaena. Aemond pushes Jace to the ground, and before Jace tries to attack him again, a guard seizes him and Luke too.

"It's okay, calm down." I stand close to Baela and Rhaena, helping her calming her sister.

"Why would you say such a thing before these people?" I hear Alicent ask her son.

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family mother. Though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs."

I go stand with Rhaenyra, as Jace manages to wiggle free from the guard.

Fortunately, Daemon stops him.

"Wait, wait." He tells him, making him back away.

"Go to your quarters. All of you go, now." Rhaenyra tells them all.

I sigh, disappointed, I shake my head, looking at Aemond.

Daemon stands behind her, in front of Aemond, then when he leaves, too, Daemon walks the young ones out.

"Rhaenyra." Alicent calls, and the Princess hold my hand, to make me stay.

"It's beat, I think, if we go back to Dragonstone." She sighs.

"You've only just arrived." Alicent takes her hamd gently, "you both."

"Lete see the children home." She starts, "I'll, um... return on dragon back."

"The king and I would both like that." The queen nods, "You as well... I hope." She adds, looking at me.

"I... I could stay here and wait for her." I say to Alicent, nodding to Rhaenyra, who smiles at me.

"That would be nice, my lady." She smiles and bow my head slightly before walking put with Rhaenyra.

"Do you feel alright in riding Syrax in your condition?" I ask her as we walk.

"I'm more than fine, don't worry about me." She assures me, "Are you sure to stay here?"

"I am, princess." I assure her as well.

"Promise to tell me if anything happens." She says, squeezing my hand.

"Of course."

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

I'm helping Rhaenyra brush her hair, and Daemon is taking off his boots when we hear a knock on the doors.

The maid opens it and a guard makes his way inside.

"Apologies for the intrusion, princess. I was sent here to fetch lady Y/n." He explains.

"And why's that?" Daemon stands, ready to rush to his sword.

"Prince Aemond asked for her presence in the library." He replies, getting a little nervous after seeing Daemon's reaction.

"Oh, thanks, I almost forgot." I say.

"Forgot what?" Daemon immediately asks.

"I'll be there shortly." I nod to the guard, who nods and walks out of the room, after bowing to the couple.

"Forgot what?" Daemon repeats the question, more sternly.

"I promised him I would've met him in the library after supper. He found a book I was looking for for ages, and he wants to give it back to me." I explain, simply.

"Yes, I know what he wants to give to you." He mutters under his breath.

"Daemon." Rhaenyra scolds him.

"What? Haven't you seen how he looked at her at that table?" Daemon's shocked.

"Gods..." I sigh, "he wasn't looking at me in any way, Daemon."

"Yes, he was." He insists.

"Like what then?" I question.

He moves towards me until he's towering over me, taking my chin and making me look up at him.

"Like I look at you before I grab you and throw you on the bed, my love." He tells me, making my face heat up.

"Don't..." I warn him.

"I like seeing you flustered like this." He smirks, leaning closer.

"You enjoy torturing her. It's different." Rhaenyra's amusement is clear as she speaks.

"I do." He admits, proudly. "That's why I recognise when someone is looking at what's mine."

"He wasn't." I insist

"He was."

"He was not." I tell him, "really. Now let me go. The sooner I retrieve the book, the sooner I'll be back." I manage to put some space between us and grab my shoes.

"I'm not letting you go to him alone." He sternly tells me.

"It's just Aemond." I remind him, "I cared for him a lot when he was younger."

"Yes, but he's not a child anymore. He's twenty, isn't he?" He pretends to wonder, "he has one thing in mind."

"Don't be ridiculous." I sigh. "Listen, I'll be quick, alright? Stop worrying. Rhae, help."

"She's capable of defending herself, my love." She supports me, "and she's right. The sooner she goes, the sooner she's back into our arms."

Daemon sighs deeply, not agreeing one bit, but recognises he's being outnumbered.

"Fine. But be quick."

"Of course." I give him a kiss, "Do not worry." I go kiss Rhaenyra and walk out towards the library.

I follow the guard to the library, softly thanking him as he lets me in.

"Aemond?" I call, and once I hear his voice, I follow it until I find him, standing by a table casually reading the book, a hand behind his back."There you are."

He looks up to me and smiles.

"I know it's late, my apologies for that, my lady." He says.

"It's fine, Aemond, do not worry." I assure him, I look at the book, "was it interesting?"

"Very." He nods, "I particularly enjoyed the chapter about the secret messages."

I walk cautiously closer, more so I can grab the book rather than to him.

"Oh, yes, apparently in Old Valyria, they used flowers and plants to send messages instead of ravens." I say, looking at the page Aemond was reading a few moments ago, "ah, yes, they used them also so propose marriage, to express their deepest love to one another."

I can sense him moving around me, I try to ignore the creeps down my spine as I feel him closer.

"They used dahlias to propose, didn't they?" He asks. There's something in his voice that makes me tense.

"Yes... um... yes, they did." I nod, controlling my voice so he doesn't see my nerves.

"Like this one?" He asks, and a dahlia appears in front of me.

"Oh! Where did you find it? I thought they couldn't grow here." I wonder, still not taking the flower.

"I had the servants plant them," he starts as he gets even closer, almost against me, "once I read that chapter, I had them plant tons of these. It's for you... from me."

I immediately turn around, and take a few steps away from him.

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"Marry me." He tells me.

"Aemond... uh... why?" I ask again.

"The flower speaks for it, doesn't it?" He gets closer, not caring that I'm backing away.

"I'm too old for you." I make him reason.

"Not true, you're perfect." He shakes his head. He's quicker than me and stands in front of me again, forcing me to back up against the bookshelves.

"Aemond... listen..."

"Since I can remember," he interrupts me, putting his hands on my waist, "you've been the only one understanding me, the only one who truly saw me.

"No..." I carefully move his hands away, "Aemond this, whatever you think you're feeling it's-"

"I know what I feel." He snaps, but his features soften immediately, "I know what I feel. I want you, and I know you feel it too."

"No." I push him off, "no, Aemond, I don't. This is... very sweet, but I don't share these feelings. I'm sorry."

He looks at me, without saying a word, without a single expression on his face.

"There would be time, my love." He finally says, "You just need to get away from my dear sister in order to properly see."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, irritated.

He simply hums, retrieves the book, and hands it to me, and without any more words, he walks away.

I take a moment to catch my breath. What just happened? I can't believe Daemon was right, like this. When he put his hands on me, there was something in his eye that made me fear for myself.

I'm afraid he has changed a lot since I last saw him.

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letsmyy · 9 months ago

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i have a request!!! you should write a daughter of apollo x leo valdez fic but based on espresso by sabrina carpenter (idk i feel like that song gives children of apollo vibes!) it'd be leo obsessed with the apollo girl (like him being absolutely obsessed with her, having the biggest crush on her possible, he constantly thinks about her, him being an absolute loser bf) and finally getting the courage to ask her out on a date or something like that.

“she’s like a shot of espresso…”

leo valdez x duaghter of apollo!reader

warnings: use of yn! english isn’t my first language so it might be some errors!!

thank you so much for your request, it made me so happy!! idk if what i wrote it’s exactly what you want but i hope you like it 🤕 this is my first timing writing a real fic and I think it really shows lol, but i promise I’ll try to improve in the next one, I’m so sorry if it’s that bad, and this is really short too? omg im really bad at this lol, but anyways, ly anon tell me your opinions (honestly) abt this later, kisses to uuu!! 🫶💗 (btw anon, please request other things I feel like I didn’t did you justice with this one)

words: 850

“is it that sweet? I guess so…..”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ - ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Leo was sure he was going crazy.

He always had a pretty big amount of silly crushes on girls, but with you? It was getting way too serious. Of course, you're beautiful, incredibly kind, and too generous for your own good, and you treated him well, but that isn't enough reason to make him lose sleep; at least that's what he thought.

And he was extremely wrong. Being in your presence was the equivalent of being bathed in the sunlight, and gods, he felt like a prisoner who hadn't seen the sun in years.

He's completely obsessed with you; he just needs the courage to verbalize that, but being honest, Leo felt like a coward at the moment.

While being lost in his thoughts (the thoughts being the pretty daughter of Apollo that never leaves his mind), the boy finally falls asleep.

Leo doesn't mind waking up if that means spending the day with the people he loves, so after getting ready for the day, he searches for you.

And he found you, talking with a much younger camper, helping him. You're smiling like it's the best day of your life, and Leo could swear that you're almost glowing.

The boy makes its way to you the same moment you finish talking to the kid, now having your full attention on Hephaestus' son.

"Leo! Good morning!" Your voice to him had the same effect as listening to his favorite music, it made him happy in ways he couldn't explain, even if his life depended on it.

"Yn! Good morning!" He mimics you, not in a bad way, just a teasing one. You roll your eyes in fake annoyance.

"Sooo, did you sleep well, Valdez?" You ask, seeming really interested in the answer, but he knows that you're like that for everything, being extremely kind.

"Not really, would be better if I dreamed about you," you laugh amusingly.

"You say that every day, y'know?"

"I know, I say because it's true. " You can't help but blush a little. You're used to Leo flirting with you, but it never gets past that, so you just learned to joke back.

"Hilarious, Valdez... fortunately, I slept very well today, and I'm more excited than normal! I think it's because it's so sunny today, that's awesome, was thinking about going to the lake later. I can't waste such a pretty day like this one painting inside my cabin..."

"Unfortunately, I'll be in the bunker today, I have lots of things to do."

"What? No! You're coming with me, you can't waste this wonderful day either!" You grab his hands, walking toward the lake.

Leo could swear he would pass out at that moment. He couldn't even think about denying your offer, he would prefer dying to doing that.

After a few seconds, you guys get to the lake.

"Look how pretty it is! You have to go swimming with me, it’s a need.”

"Look, sunshine, water and fire don't get along so well, so I might skip that one" he says, apologetic. You frown, thinking.

"We don't need to go swimming, we can just talk, i really don't care." You smile lovingly at him.

"I don't want to ruin your day! There are many people that can go with you, you'll find someone better to do that." He's so oblivious that it's getting concerning.

"I want to spend time with you, Valdez. I don't mind if it's swimming or just talking, I want to, you know..be with you."

"Oh." He's acting like a loser, he can't think straight anymore and is blushing like crazy, but who cares?

"Oh?" You tease him, smiling.

"Yeah, we can. Just talk, I'm happy with that. " His smile was so genuine that made your heart melt.

That's when you realize you're still holding his hand, and you don't want to change that. You can feel he notices too.

Something just snapped in his head, now it’s the time, now or never, right?

"Yn? Can I tell you something?" He says it in a quiet tone, and you just nod.

"When I'm around you, it's like constantly drinking a shot of espresso, it's like being bathed in sunlight, you're incredibly energetic and enthusiastic, and i just can't get enough of you, you're my sunrise and daylight....all I'm saying is, gods, I very much love you more than just friends" You're surprised, really surprised, so surprised that you can't even speak for a moment, which just makes Leo even more nervous.

"Please say something...like, anything, a no it's better than silence because it’s less-“ Before he yaps again, you interrupt him:

"I like you too." The boy almost squeals of pure excitement.

"Seriously? Oh gods, oh gods. What?" He's so happy, it's so sincere, so soft, it's amazing, you can feel your heart beating so fast, and you don't even care; seeing him like this because of you is the best feeling you ever felt.

Then you see that one look, meant just for you, it's like time has frozen, and you're both thinking the same thing. Then, like all the stars aligned, you kissed him

#leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez fic #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson fic #heroes of olympus #daughter of apollo #apollo #son of apollo #child of apollo #espresso #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez imagines

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loaksky · 2 years ago

Text

— 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴

the deets — you are a warrior of very few words, yet oftentimes your gaze betrays you. this widens the rift between you and the eldest sully, but will seeking refuge with the metkayina soothe the burn? especially when the alleviation comes in the form of a certain ocean boy?

the who — ao’nung x fem tipani!reader, a lil neteyam x fem!tipani reader

the word count — 7.1k (i thought this was gonna be longer, regardless i have zero self control)

the tags — slight e2l (you and ao’nung get off on the wrong foot), unofficial love triangle (reader has two people hooked lmao), angst (wouldn’t be me without a little heartache), fluff.

the warnings — language, ao’nung’s a cheeky lil shit, neteyam’s in denial and makes things difficult. ao'nung gives reader a lil kith.

the notes — this is my first request! it took me a moment to finish this because i wanted to really research the tipani to characterize reader the best i could. similarly, i feel like we don’t see much of ao’nung past the point of him being a little shit in the movie, so i had to take some creative liberties regarding his character. thank you so much to the anon who requested! this is so long, holy shit, but i hope i did it justice! :)

(also not proofread well, my bad lmaooo).

masterlist

YOU WERE BORN TO FIGHT. That was what your mother and father had told you day in and day out, from the rise of the sun, to the last eclipse. It was what they had told you when you began your training, when you had started to deepen your studies, and finally, when they clung to their final breaths in the smog of the burning jungle.

Your village was scarce, a dying lot, as families broke off and settled farther into the jungle, high above the forest floors and into the canopies of the looming trees.

Jake had heard about you, heard about your dwindling family, your mighty spirit. You were barely older than his eldest, just shy of ten when he’d taken you in, told the clan to revere you as their own. You were tough to crack, stoic, quiet, as you grew into a force to be reckoned with.

The only thing that chipped your facade came in the form of Jake Sully’s oldest son.

Neteyam, you’d come to realize, was always the diligent one; courageous, firm, and commanded any space he occupied. But he was curious about you. Curious about the lone wolf who wouldn’t even bat an eye in his direction. He poked and prodded, tried as he might, to crack a smile out of you in the first year or two, but found that you gave little reaction. The slightest tilt of the corner of your lips, the most infinitesimal furrow between your brow bones. It was triumph enough, but then things started to shift.

Though you’d softened around the Sully’s, especially Kiri who, despite being two years your junior, had doted on you like an older sister, Jake had seen potential in you and Neteyam as the fiercest duo.

It was only normal to consistently pair you two during your training, forcing the hands of time to twine you closer together as your iknimaya drew nearer. You’d both succeeded with flying colors and it was the first time Neteyam had touched you, crushing you in a hug so tight, you felt the breath and the sense leave your body.

You begrudgingly admit that from that moment on, you were wrapped around his finger.

Your heart would swell dangerously behind your ribcage every time his hand would come up to pat your head affectionately, stomach twisting in on itself when he’d flash you a pearly smile after each successful hunt. Neteyam made you feel, and it thrilled and horrified you all the same.

But despite basking in the warmth of his company, of being intertwined so intricately, you still feel grossly misplaced.

The thought of letting him in on the fact that he’s swayed your heart leaves a horrid taste in your mouth.

“It’s not like you to back down,” Kiri tells you as she helps you roll beaded tops and woven loincloths into the small satchel you’d designated for the flight to Awa’atlu.

The humans were closing in and Jake was growing desperate.

You stop, tongue in cheek as you settle back on your haunches.

“Some things are better left unsaid,” you reply, hands clasping in your lap as you level Kiri with a soft gaze through your thick lashes.

“Perhaps,” Kiri hums. “But will it settle well with you in the future when you think about your inaction?”

You stiffen a fraction, knowing that Kiri’s insinuation is a heavy one.

Will you be able to live without him knowing? Will it settle well when Neteyam courts another?

You doubt it will, but pride can be an ugly thing. You’d been taught by your parents, by your surroundings that reading into things farther than you must will only leave you scathed. You’re afraid to piece every lingering touch, every furtive glance, every sweet smile into something that paints an unwanted picture.

“The worst he could say is no,” Kiri presses. “You are his equal, his dearest friend. You could never ruin that.”

Kiri squashes every doubt you have with her encouraging words, so you take the plunge.

Neteyam is almost finished preparing for the journey when you poke your head into his tent, cheeks warm and blood pulsing erratically in your veins.

“One last walk through the forest?” you offer.

Neteyam grins from ear to ear, excusing himself before ducking out of the tent to meet you outside.

“Lead the way,” he gestures, voice deep like the velvet of the night sky.

You’re clammy as you walk a few paces in front of him, tongue tied and wracked with nerves as the forest comes alive so brightly around you. The bugs chirp and croak as you cross over fallen logs and climb through the dense flora.

You’re so deep in your head that you barely register Neteyam calling your name. It’s only when his hand clasps around your wrist that you jerk to a stop, neck craning to take in the concern that mars his freckled face.

“Everything okay?” he asks, head tilting to get a better look at you.

“I need to tell you something,” you blurt, swallowing down the courage threatening to escape your body.

“Of course,” he says, hand lacing with yours. “You can tell me anything.”

A breath catches in your throat before you finally spill.

“I don’t know what our future holds, but…” you trail off, distracted with how intensely he gazes down at you.

“But?”

“But I know that I want you in it,” you say, blinking when you realize that’s not at all how you wanted that to come out.

Neteyam’s head tilts again, this time confusion crosses his features.

You try again.

“What I mean to say is, I— well… I like you,” you admit, looking up to meet his golden gaze.

His face softens and your heart picks up speed.

“Oh, ________,” he whispers.

“Maybe I’ve always felt like this, I don’t know,” you continue, steeling your resolve. “But being around you, being with you, makes me feel light. Like I don’t have to bear the weight of the burden all on my own.”

You realize that this is beginning to go south when his mouth purses and instead of seeing you, he begins to look like he pities you.

“I’m sorry,” is all he says as he pulls his hand from your own. “We’re friends, ________.”

You look up at him and it feels like the forest has stilled enough for someone to strike it and shatter the peace.

“That’s all,” he reiterates. “I’m— I’m flattered, don’t misunderstand. You’re great, lovely, but…I don’t see you in that way.”

You recoil like you’ve been burned and Neteyam looks guilty.

“But…”

“C’mon,” he says, almost pleadingly. “We grew up together. You’re apart of my family. You’re like a si—“

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t say it please.”

Neteyam sighs, deflating.

“I love you, you know that,” he urges. “But not in that way.”

Your lips press together tightly, shame filling every available space within you as you feel like the most minuscule speck underneath his burning eyes.

It’s like you’re both rooted to the earth, unable to part from the other, but you eventually fold first, backing away from his towering stance.

“________,” he sighs, like you’re just another task he has to deal with.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

And you steal off into the glowing forest.

The waters of Awa’atlu glitter as you close in on the reefs. You lag behind the Sully’s, thoroughly taken by the prior night’s rejection.

You almost miss the tilt of the voyage, falling even further behind.

Neteyam peers over his shoulder, immediately noting your lack of focus as you fly with a wide berth between you and his family.

He falls back.

“You okay?” he asks over the flapping of wings.

He notices the puffs underneath your eyes when your gaze flits to him, but like a wall erecting itself, your face goes blank. You lean forward on your ikran and press her to move forward.

Neteyam is left at the rear now, watching you fall in tandem with Kiri who seems to light up at your first display of emotion.

The sun gleams againstglinting blue tides as silence blankets the newcomers, the only thing piercing the stillness is the squawk of the birds and the ripple of the waves.

You stand behind Kiri, staggered in a shallow of sand among the Sully's. You're the smallest of them all, hidden from view as the Metkayina begin murmuring.

“What a freak.”

Something tugs hard on your tail, and like muscle memory, your fist is flying. Your knuckles are caught before they strike and you look up into the foamy eyes of a towering boy whose skin is a gentle blue.

You pull your tail back, ears flat as you level him with a nasty glare.

The smirk playing at his lips disintegrates as Jake’s voice announces that his family are seeking refuge among the reefs.

You turn your attention back to the front as the woman, fierce despite being with child, takes Lo’ak’s hand and thrusts it towards the sky, announcing that his extra finger denotes demon blood.

The villagers gasp and you take a step forward, fists balled so tight you feel like they could burst through the skin. Lo’ak’s head is bowed, refusing to meet the intensity of the clan’s prying eyes, and you feel helpless.

Kiri squeezes your shoulder as Jake attempts to quell the crowd by hold up his own hands.

The murmuring intensifies as the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik stand at a distance, staring at each other in a silent exchange.

“Show them our ways,” the Olo’eyktan says after a final verdict. “So that they may not suffer the shame of being useless.”

Your body is rigid, tense as another ripple of speculation flutters through the crowd.

“My children will spearhead this by showing them the way of the water,” he says.

A deep voice makes a noise of protest behind you and your fist tightens around the strap of the satchel slung across your body, temper beginning to tick like a bomb ready to detonate.

The daughter of the leaders, Tsireya, is the one to show you to the marui that you’ll all occupy. It’s an empty one, uninhabited and clear of any belongings.

Tuk runs in, tossing her things to the wayside as she begins her inspection.

“Get settled in well, we will begin our first lesson before eclipse,” Tsireya smiles, then turns to you, trailing behind the Sully’s like their shadow per usual.

“I’m sorry about Ao’nung,” she says quietly, and you look up at the girl whose dimples dent her rounded cheeks.

“An apology means nothing if doesn’t come from the aggressor,” you say flatly, hiking up the roll of fabric tucked underneath your arm.

Tsireya’s ears flatten, her smile faltering as she nods her head.

“I suppose you’re correct,” she agrees. “The villagers are very steadfast in their ways. When change arrives, they are hesitant, but they’ll come around, promise.”

She takes your hand and gives your fingers a squeeze.

“Tell your friends not to be late,” she coos, pulling away from you to bound down the path you’d all come from moments before.

When you turn, Neteyam stands before you, skin dewy under the unrelenting heat of the pounding sun.

“Can I get this for you?” he asks, reaching for the items tucked under your arms.

You ease away, almost as skittish as the first nights you’d joined the Sully’s all those years ago. You feel shamefully like you’re back to square one as you shake your head wordlessly and Neteyam looks down at you with an indiscernible look on his face.

“________,” he murmurs, and you name sounds like a broken plea on his lips.

You push past him, taking a quick survey of your surroundings as you claim the level up, hammock tightened around two support posts under a woven canopy.

Your things are thrown haphazardly underneath the hammock and with your satchel, you’re steering quickly out of the marui.

“Hey, kid, where you running off to?” Jake calls out.

“Out,” is all you reply, steps quick down the unfamiliar webbing of the maruis’ woven walkways.

You’re on edge all over again, like you have to restart all of your valiant efforts to feel any semblance of comfort among another new clan. When you’d joined the Omatikaya, you were able to grasp onto the slivers of belonging through blending into the background, but now, as you pass villagers with skin as glittering and blue as the ocean, tails strong, and figures built, you feel so grossly misplaced.

You search for less, eyes falling near a swathe of shady trees and a shallow pool in the distance.

Your pursuit is futile as three looming figures emerge and begin surrounding you, basking you in their shadows.

“Are you a five-fingered freak like them?” One of them tries to swoop to grab your hand, but you recoil like their touch is acidic.

“Leave me alone,” you grumble, attempting to push past them.

Someone tugs sharply on your tail and you jerk back, hands and knees burrowing into the sharp grains of sand. A hand comes up to grab you by the top of your head, forcing your face skywards.

His curly hair is braided out of his face, the purse of his lips menacing.

“I asked you a question, weirdo.”

You hiss and his face contorts.

“I should—“

“Wune,” the voice is a warning.

A grunt of annoyance.

Wune lets go of your hair and pulls away from you. You all look in the direction of the voice, and your blood seems to curdle when you see the one who’d yanked your tail earlier in the day.

Ao’nung.

His chin jerks in the other direction and the three pass each other a knowing glance before retreating, leaving you to fall into a seated position against the sand.

You surprise yourself when tears begin to well in your eyes involuntarily.

“You okay?” Ao’nung asks hesitantly, crouching in front of you.

“Piss off,” you whisper, climbing to your feet as you quickly brush the tears from your waterline.

“Wait—“

“I said piss off,” you hiss, stalking away.

Awa’atlu is beautiful right before eclipse, sky bathed in orange and purples.

You’ve rejoined the Sully’s after your encounter with the three Metkayina boys and Ao’nung. Now you’re seated with the four siblings, Tsireya, and another friendly face that you’ve been introduced to as Rotxo.

“The way of water has no beginning and no end,” Tsireya says. “Our hearts beat in the womb of the world.”

Your heart beats fast now, like you’ve just run from one end of the forest to another. It beats erratically under Neteyam’s unrelenting gaze. He looks like he’s dissecting you, trying to pry into your mind and you hate that things have come to this.

You hate that one evening has shattered the careful friendship that you and Neteyam have built over the course of many tumultuous years. You want to find comfort in his presence, know with your soul that he’d tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you that things would be alright. But now you feel like you two are distant strangers.

“The sea is your home, before your birth and after your death.”

You want to argue that you know no home, that the wind seems to carry you where it may, but you bite your tongue and you zone out of her lecture.

You only tune back in when the hairs on the back of your neck stand at the arrival of a new body.

“Mother and father say that it’s time to prepare for the evening meal.”

After hearing the voice twice in the day, you recognize the timbre.

Ao’nung stands tall, chest broad and eyes bright.

They settle on you in an instant, and you feel indescribably smaller as Tsireya announces that she will continue during the morning’s eclipse.

Everyone begins to stand, brushing the residual sand from their skin as they begin to file away.

You’re startled to a stop when your name comes from Neteyam’s lips and a gentle hand latches onto your forearm.

You look down to see strong fingers lighter than your own holding onto you. Then your gaze flits to Neteyam who stands a few feet away, words dying on his tongue.

Ao’nung tugs lightly and you look up to meet softened eyes.

“Can I borrow you for a moment?” he asks. He notices the apprehensive look on your face as you peel away from him, then adds, “I’ll be quick.”

Neteyam opens his mouth to protest on your behalf, but you flash him a pensive look and he stops in his tracks, watching as you turn your slender back towards him and follow the lumbering Metkayina.

When the two of you are alone, you dig your toe into the sand, hands clasped behind your back as you wait for Ao’nung to break the silence and get on with it.

“I want to apologize,” he finally says, when you’re out of earshot of the village and the curious Sully’s who’d noted the entire exchange.

You look up at him, brow bone raised.

“For?”

“For being mean,” he says, “I was inappropriate.”

“Is this your sister talking?” you ask crudely, but he doesn’t flinch at the venom in your tone.

Instead, he smiles down at you.

“No,” he assures you. “One hundred percent me, promise.”

You look down at your feet, still fidgeting with the sand.

“I guess…” you trail off.

“You guess?” he prods.

“I guess we’re okay,” you say hesitantly.

Ao’nung hums.

“Good,” he concedes. “Great. I’m glad.”

You flash him a bored look through thick lashes and his lips twitch as he stares down at you with piercing eyes.

“I can be dumb,” he says, grin widening. “My family says I don’t know how to act around nice things.”

Your cheeks warm as you avoid his eyes, breaking away to catch up with Kiri and Tuk.

After dinner, in the quiet of the Sully’s marui, you lie in the hammock you claimed earlier in the day, hands folded underneath your head as you gaze at the stars.

“My dad came from a star,” Lo’ak had said to you one night, eliciting the smallest of smiles.

As you comb through each one, you burn to be up there. A digging desire to only know about shining bright and being wished so hard upon.

There are nights like these where everything feels heavy, where your shoulders sag underneath the pressure of being a great warrior. You wonder what life could be like had the RDA spared your village, had you not gone off into the forest to hunt, had you—

He’s a barely perceptible shadow under the glow of the moon and ocean, slinking down the woven path between pods.

Like a whisper of wind, you climb out of your hammock and over sleeping bodies.

As you slip out of the marui, you don’t notice the pair of sleepy eyes on your retreating figure.

Before he even knows what’s going on, you’re scurrying over the thick branches, following his path until he hits the intersection right before the Sully’s quarters.

You jump down and intersect Ao’nung, hand coming over his mouth before he can shout in shock. His eyes are wide as you stand on your tip toes, other hand coming to your lips to gesture for him to be quiet.

“What are you doing?” you hiss quietly.

His fingers come to your wrist, nudging your palm from his mouth to reveal a beaming smile.

“I was coming for you,” he admits.

“Why?” you press, shaking his hold away when you realize that he’d still been grasping your wrist.

“Have you ridden an ilu before?” he asks.

You shift uncomfortably.

“No,” you answer shortly.

“You wanna?” he offers.

“No.”

He frowns.

“Swimming?”

“Pass.”

“I have fruits,” he singsongs.

“Ao’nung,” you warn.

“Is it so wrong to want to spend time with you?” he asks, hands up in defense.

“Why would you want to?” you ask accusingly. “Your village sees us as demons and I’m included in that whether it applies to me or not. I’ll stay out of your way, just leave me alone.”

“I don’t think you’re a demon,” Ao’nung says gently. “If anything, I- I think you’re great.”

“You don’t know me,” you spit.

“I know enough,” Ao’nung says with finality. “I know that you are strong and your spirit is kind. Ewya has let me feel as such.”

Your expression is lethal, but Ao’nung doesn’t back down.

“One night,” he says quietly. “Spend one night with me.”

The following silence stretches eternally before something magnetic pulls you towards Ao’nung’s honeyed gaze. You chance a glance over your shoulder, met with stillness and the minute laps of the ocean on the shore.

When you meet his eyes again, you nod once, hesitantly, and he’s taking your hand to tug you into the glowy night.

Ao’nung returns you before the sun rises, a few early risers giving you two curious glances as he walks you to where you’d ambushed him the night before.

You wave to him hesitantly, sighing in relief when you you creep back into the marui and find everyone fast asleep, splayed over one another like a big heap.

You climb over limbs and snoring bodies, finally settling in your hammock to watch the beginnings of the eclipsing sun brighten the village.

You don’t notice the same bleary eyes watching you from where he’s laid on the floor, Lo’ak’s head weighing on his stomach and Tuk smushed onto his armpit.

They’re the same eyes that watch you all morning, as his family gets up one by one, stretching their lithe limbs and tidying up before being called for the day’s first meal.

Neteyam is watchful, stealing glances as you file behind his family from the pod to the clan circle, now buzzing with hungry villagers as the sun shines high in the sky.

But he doesn’t say a word, silent as you choose the seat farthest from him. Quiet as you blink your eyes sleepily, barely registering Tuk’s excited blabbering about all of the new things she can make with the shells and supplies here.

“Give it a rest,” Lo’ak grumbles from beside him.

He snaps out of his reverie, eyes narrowing in on his brother.

“What?”

“You’ve been watching ________ all morning,” Lo’ak chides. “She’s locked up tight, bro. No way you’re getting her.”

Neteyam’s blood curdles at the thought, wanting to tell his brother to shove it. But you’d shut him out the past few days, the sting of his rejection obviously driving a wedge between the two of you.

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

He hates that you’d gone from being inseparable to being strangers overnight. But what he hates even more is the way Ao’nung drops onto the log next to you and you don’t even flinch, just pass him a bored gaze that makes him beam.

He watches you closely, eyes glued to your every move.

Something ugly roils inside of him as Ao’nung offers you a braided bag and you hesitantly take a piece of dried meat from him, face morphing as you give him a nod of approval.

Ao’nung looks proud of of himself as he balances the bag next to him on the log and leans towards you almost imperceptibly. Neteyam expects you to put distance between the two of you, but you barely bat an eye, watching intently as Ao’nung talks animatedly.

Lo’ak scoffs beside him and Neteyam stomach turns.

Hours bleed into days, days bleed into weeks, and for once, you feel like things could be alright. The breathing gets easier, the learning comes faster, and something feels peaceful being near the ocean.

The only thing that hadn’t been amended was the gaping hole that separated you from Neteyam, but in the company of a certain Olo’eyktan’s only son, you don’t feel the burn as much.

You watch him now, as he treads water with Rotxo and the two Sully boys, walking them through the procedure of hunting under water and how to maximize their kills.

“…and the reefs underwater…”

He’s one and the same with the tides, mighty and commanding as his veined hands gesture confidently. One moment, he’s focused on his instruction intently, the next he’s glancing at you.

You feel hot in the warm waters as your cheeks flame under a genuine smile. Neteyam follows his line of sight, body tensing in the water when he sees the shy look on your face.

He’s not the only one who notices as Kiri feigns a gag and Tsireya pauses her spiel to giggle at the obvious exchange.

“Oh, ________,” she whispers giddily.

Your eyes swing to the group of girls surrounding you as Tuk lets out a gleeful laugh and pinches you under the water.

“Ouch!”

“________ has a crush,” Tuk singsongs obnoxiously.

You knuckle her forehead and give her a warning glare than only sends her into a frenzy, laughing and splashing as she seeks protection from Kiri.

“Stop that!” you whisper fiercely.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft,” Kiri moans.

“No!” you say, a little too quickly. “No.”

No one in your circle looks convinced as Tsireya closes her lesson and leads the three of you to wade out of the waters.

“It’s okay, you know?” Kiri says once you’ve reached your belongings and sling your trusty satchel over your front.

You give her an inquisitive look and she throws her head back and laughs.

“I know you sneak out to meet with Ao’nung at night,” she admits quietly. “I love my stupid brother, but it’s okay to move on.”

You blanche, embarrassed at having been caught.

After the first night, when he’d taken you for a swim with his ilu and you’d gasped in both fear and delight as the creature cut through the waters to sail through the air, he had started to frequently come back for you in the wee hours after eclipse. It had turned from you clocking him as he approached the Sully’s pod, to you standing off the side of the path he usually crossed, waiting for him.

The first night you’d done that, his smile was so sweet, you felt something fluttering in your tummy.

Among one of those late night excursions, while you both were splayed on the beach after a particularly adventurous swim, Ao’nung had told you he wouldn’t mind showing you all the beautiful things Awa’atlu had to offer, you just had to say the words. And you had reluctantly agreed, heart locked away tight.

You hate to admit that he’s done well chiseling away every effort you’d made to remain snug behind your walls. He had coaxed you out with soft words, sweet fruits, meaningful talks. And you absolutely melted like putty in his hands.

“We are head and heart,” Kiri says gently. “Sometimes it’s okay to listen to your heart.”

You swallow under Kiri’s sympathetic gaze.

“You’ve been strong for a long time, ________,” she states simply. “Your feelings are not a weakness.”

You nod as she rejoins Tuk and Tsireya a few strides away.

A few moments later, a voice is warm in the shell of your sensitive ears.

“What adventure awaits after eclipse?” Ao’nung asks lightly.

You resist smiling up at him, but fail miserably when his webbed fingers come up to move hair from your face.

“I have seeds of a spartan fruit,” you say quietly. “If you know of anywhere to plant them.”

“I can make something work,” he assures you, thumb brushing your cheek, then pinching gently with a toothy smile. “Our usual place?”

You bow your head, cheeks hot.

“Of course.”

“Alright, little leaf,” he bids, that stupid nickname he’d called you one of the first nights, sticking. “See you then.”

He’s walking back in the direction of the other boys, cutting across the sand as they venture towards the heart of the clan’s village.

As you pick up the remainder of your items, you don’t realize a body has stayed behind.

“Little leaf?” It comes out as a scoff, mocking as your whirl on your heel and find Neteyam standing over you. “What’s your deal with him?”

You blink hard.

“What are you talking about?”

“You an Ao’nung,” Neteyam bites, temper short. “What’s going on between you two?”

Annoyance pinches the back of your brain as you look off into the roll of the shallow tides, then turn your attention back to the eldest Sully. For the first time in an infinite amount of moments, you don’t feel like falling into him.

“He’s my friend,” you decide to say, sucking in a deep breath in hopes of calming your racing nerves. “Is that alright with you?”

Neteyam’s glare doesn’t falter.

“Just your friend?” he accuses. “I know you meet with him after eclipse, don’t think you have anyone fooled. Why?”

“What do you mean why?” you counter, unable to keep the edge from your tone.

“Why are you sneaking around with someone you barely know after dark, ________?” he grills. “Don’t be dense.”

“Ao’nung is kind to me,” you argue. “He shows me about his life, about the villagers and the way of the water.”

“And what, I’m not kind to you?” Neteyam bristles. “Tsireya can’t show you all of those things?”

Your face scrunches in annoyance.

“You’re being unreasonable, Neteyam,” you scoff.

“I’m being unreasonable?” he asks in disbelief. “Ao’nung is just like the rest of the village, ________. You really thinking that in front of everyone else, he doesn’t shun us all the same?”

“No, Neteyam, I don’t,” you retort. “Because Ao’nung is nice. He goes to great lengths to make me feel welcome, like Awa’atlu is home.”

“So he puts on a show and you’re so willing to be with him, huh?” Neteyam seethes quietly. “We’re your home, ________. Ao’nung is earning brownie points with his parents having you hooked, but do you really think he sees you?”

You swallow, biting the inside of your cheek as you stare up at Neteyam in resignation.

“You can be so callous sometimes,” you whisper, turning to leave the conversation.

“I’m not done talking to you,” Neteyam sighs.

“Well, I am.”

You never make it back to the marui that night, still embarrassed that two of Sully’s had noticed that you were ditching your hammock as soon as the village turned in for the evenings. Instead, you wander around the beaches, collecting shells and little trinkets for morning handicrafts with Tuk.

After the island glows both from the luminescence of the habitat and the moon, you stand post, waiting for the familiar pad of Ao’nung’s feet over the sand. You watch the stars up above to distract you, fingers twitching as you recall your argument with Neteyam earlier in the day.

You know he was looking for chords to strike, but something akin to insecurity begins to root itself inside of you as the stars begin shifting further and further, indicating that a wide span of time has elapsed. The village is still, but your mind is racing as Ao’nung’s whereabouts remain a mystery.

Regardless you wait. You wait so long, you’d resorted to planting yourself in the sand, and after what felt like infinity, the morning eclipse begins. When the village starts to turn over for the day, curtains and drapery being pulled back to reveal slowly waking families, you finally stand, heart in your hands.

When you return to your pod, Neteyam is already up, posted on the edge of the walkway with his toes in the water.

He’s shooting up when he sees you.

“Where have you been?” he demands as you draw nearer.

His face softens when he sees the first tear arch over your sculpted cheekbone.

You quickly wipe it away.

“No where,” you grumble, pushing past him.

“________,” he urges.

You deflect his reaching hands.

“I’m serious, Neteyam,” you warn, the look in your golden eyes deadly. “Leave me alone.”

Despite not seeing Ao’nung the entirety of the day, you return to your post the next night, hoping the night prior had been a fluke. The seeds of the spartan fruit are held tight in your fist and you use them as a vessel to wish hard. But it’s futile when the stars that map the skies continue to inch and you continue to wait.

On the fourth night of Ao’nung’s absence, you decide to get to the bottom of things.

You weave through the maruis, into the village’s circle right before eclipse. You spot Tsireya first, then him. He isn’t hard to miss when you’ve grown to know the drape of his curling hair and the bass of his hearty laugh.

Rotxo, who sits opposite them, notices you first and his smile falters.

Ao’nung’s neck cranes and his face shutters as he locks eyes with you.

“________, hi,” he greets simply.

“Hi?” you parrot, the spartan seeds you were beginning to use as a safety blanket clutched tight in your fist. “That’s it?”

Ao’nung turns completely, waving off his sister and Rotxo as he stands to his full height.

“What are you—“

“I waited for you,” you hiccup, shocked at the emotion that hijacks every morsel of resolve and composure you’ve always kept a tight lid on. “I waited for you, but you never came.”

Ao’nung’s hands are on your shoulders, nudging you to a more private area, an alcove hidden among arched and gnarled tree roots.

“________, I don’t understand,” he says quietly. “You—“

“I waited for you so that we could plant these stupid seeds and—“

Your unfurled fist catches his attention and his eyes widen when he sees that you’ve gripped them so hard in your hands, your palms are bleeding.

He makes a move to grab you injured hand, but your fist tightens again.

“This is inappropriate,” Ao’nung says sharply, eyes pleading.

“What is?” you ask desperately.

“You and me,” he says, like it should make sense. “This isn’t right.”

Like a time warp, you’re brought back to the glowing forest before your departure. You see Neteyam’s disappointed expression, the twinge of disgust lacing his features at the thought of wanting you like you wanted him.

Your heart shatters.

Just when you thought you were getting over it all. Just when you thought that Ao’nung made you feel alive. Made you feel things you’d never felt before, he was extinguishing every sweet moment. If he was trying to cut ties before you could fall, it was too late. He was dousing the flames that had grown to engulf him and you don’t know how much more you can take.

“Why would you do this?” you whisper brokenly. “I wanted to be left alone. Why would you force yourself into my life if you don’t want to be in it in the first place? Why would you make me want you?”

Ao’nung’s expression turns sour.

“I want to be there for you, ________,” he says fiercely. “You shine so bright and you are so incredible, you don’t even know it, but I can’t do this.”

“Why?” you hoarse.

“You are promised to someone else,” he says vehemently. “This entire time, I have sought you out with the intention of making you mine, but your heart belongs to someone else.”

Your face crumples.

“What are you— I don’t—“

“Neteyam told me to stay away from you,” Ao’nung says. “That you two would solidify your union once it was safe to go back home.”

“No,” you interject. “That’s not—“

“Don’t be cruel,” he says quietly. “I don’t think I can take it.”

“No, Neteyam and I are nothing,” you spit. “We—“

The fury hits you full force as you pull away from Ao’nung and stalk away.

You don't you hear him rushing to catch up with you. It’s like you’re underwater, hearing muffled as you map the woven path to the Sully’s marui.

Everything is absolutely red as you clock him.

Neteyam is laughing with Lo’ak and Kiri when you approach.

The expression on your face is murderous when he looks up and he pales as he stands to meet your barreling figure. You’re shoving him away from you as soon as he steps in your immediate space.

“How could you?” you cry out.

Kiri and Lo’ak’s eyes are wide at your outburst, the warrior of few words teeming with anger and emotion as you square your shoulders. Kiri nudges Lo’ak’s shoulder and gestures towards their marui to give you two some privacy.

“________—“

“You told Ao’nung we were promised to each other?” you press, finger jabbing his chest heatedly.

His face contorts as his spine straightens.

“Yes, ________, I did,” he confirms, nearly smug.

“Why?” you cry out. “After everything, why would you—“

“You’re mine, ________,” he blurts, fists shaking as he closes in on you. “All mine, and I refuse to let anyone have you. Especially Ao’nung.”

The boy who stands before you is unrecognizable, so taken by anger and envy.

“You’re heartless,” you whimper.

“Me?” he asks incredulously, voice breaking as he comes up to grab you by your biceps. “You– You made me fall for you and suddenly you–“

“I liked you first,” you choke, eyes searching his wildly. “I liked you first and you told me that you were sorry. In that moment, I could see how you saw me. Pitiful, coarse, misplaced. Ao’nung doesn’t make me feel that way.”

“Ao’nung doesn’t—“

“For once in my life, I feel okay. I feel like I can finally breathe, and that upsets you? You’re jealous? All I’ve known is the forest from a distance, coinciding with clans that make me feel like an outsider! When it’s me and him, that’s all it is, just two souls existing together. This is the first time I can say such.” Your voice is hoarse, drawing wandering eyes.

Neteyam’s face softens.

His entire time growing up with you in the forest, he’d never seen you display as much of yourself as you had in this moment. He can feel it pouring from you, every feeling you’d kept locked tight in your heart. He sees it in your eyes, nearly feral as you tremble in his hold.

“You love him?” It comes out more like a statement, his chest heaving.

Love. A word that holds the weight of a thousand suns. Four letters that seal your fate.

Did you love Ao’nung?

No. You didn’t, but maybe…maybe you could learn to. You could learn to love him just how he’d learned you, how he meticulously dismantled every doubt you had in him.

“I could,” you whisper.

Neteyam’s grasp loosens and he looks wounded as he backs away from you, peering down at you like he doesn’t recognize the person you’ve become.

As the cloud dissipates, you become aware of the eyes watching the entire debacle.

You shrink, mortified that nearly the entire village knows of your feelings for their Olo’eyktan’s son.

You turn on your heel to flee, but a sturdy body stands a few feet away, leaned against one of the twisted trunks of a tree supporting the surrounding maruis.

You swallow.

“A-Ao’nung,” you splutter.

His smile is soft, knowing, as he pushes off the tree and comes to stand in front of you.

“You’re popular, little leaf.”

You buckle, head bowing in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Ao’nung,” you murmur. “I…”

His hand comes around your head and pushes your face into the smooth skin of his chest.

You soften.

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, hand caressing your loosening braids.

“This must be embarrassing,” you whisper.

He spins your bodies, tugging you back down along the path you marched to confront Neteyam.

“You could never embarrass me,” he assures you, guiding you towards the village circle. One of his hands turns yours over, inspecting the tiny wounds as you two hurry along. “Let’s get you fixed up, okay?”

You can barely swallow around the lump forming in your throat as he climbs up into an empty pod used for treating the wounded and helps you up.

“Sit,” he coaxes, striding to the ledges of supplies, meticulously organized by his own mother.

You obey, tears streaking your cheeks as you tuck one leg under the other. You don’t feel like the mighty warrior Jake and many of the Omatikaya have made you out to be all of these years.

You feel small, and you feel weak. All because of a boy.

“Hand, please,” he says gently, kneeling in front of you with an arm full of remedies.

You oblige, offering your shaky hand, palm up.

The blood has dried, revealing small little angry lacerations that sting when he pours a thin liquid to clean them. You hiss and the tears start again.

“Stop,” he murmurs, wiping away the rivulets that slip. “Stop crying.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, fist balling involuntarily when he slathers a viscous mixture on your palm that soothes the burns.

“Stop apologizing,” he says softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He places a leaf over your palm and then wraps your hand in a soft cloth that sates the ache. When you’re all patched up, he brings your fingers to his lips, then holds them tightly in his lap.

“I need to hear it for myself,” he sighs.

“Hear what?” you croak.

“Every moment I spent with you since your arrival has been precious to me,” Ao’nung says. “I want you to say it to me.”

You’re in knots, swallowing hard as he blurs.

You take a gasping breath as you will yourself not to cry.

“I want you, Ao’nung. I see you,” you warble. “And I’m petrified to admit it because admitting it means I’m being vulnerable, but I want you to see me too.”

His lips curve, pulling you forward so that you have to catch yourself on your uninjured hand.

“You scared me for a little there,” he whispers, mouth a hairsbreadth from yours. “I don’t know what I would do if all that time we spent together meant nothing to you.”

You swallow for the thousandth time.

“Never,” you shudder.

His smile widens.

“You’re not gonna stop me, are you?” he asks, lips ghosting yours as his eyes search your own.

“No,” you murmur.

“Good,” he sighs.

He kisses you like you’re delicate, pulling you into him to taste every unspoken word you’ve held onto since the first night he came to you.

When he pulls away from you, forehead resting against yours, he’s so quiet when he whispers.

But you hear him all the same.

“I see you, little leaf.”

an — AHH second full length oneshot is done! if you've made it this far, i thank you again! i had so much fun writing this request and once more want to express gratitude the anon to shot me this idea! ALSO purposefully left out details of their little rendezvous' so that i could do some drabbles for them in the future! next fic is (finally) the lo'ak x reader i've been blabbing about.

#ao'nung #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung imagine #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar the movie #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam

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misguidedasgardian · 1 year ago

Text

Blurred Lines (4)

4. Positions

MASTERLIST

Summary: You are placed in an… awkward position

Warnings: Cursing, cheating, adultery, Harwin is not a good person on this… and Jace isn’t either, a bit creepiness, alcohol consumption, inappropriate relationship, sexual innuendos, a bit choking, smut, fingering, a bit of humilliation, might miss some warnings

MINORS DNI, + 18

Wordcount: 3.2 k

Notes: Thank you anon who gave me this amazing idea!! love you, and I hope this did justice to what you had in mind! this might open the door to other stories in this AU

It’s been a chaotic week to say the least. Harwin had been staying home, but thanks to Jace, he didn’t have much to do around the house, it’s been like three days since Jace left and even though you appreciated that, to think… he had always make himself present

Harwin was trying… hard…

First to speak to you, but luckily, having a toddler required a lot of work so she was a good buffer, so when he could tell you were not going to hear him out, he started staring at you when you were in the same room… when he walked by you he would graze you, when he wanted something that was near you he made sure to touch you to move you out of the way gently…

And it was driving you mad

You didn’t want him near you…

Not only because it disgusted you, the fact that he fucked someone else, the fact that you saw him when that bitch send you videos and pictures and the nasty conversation between them, buT also… you were disgusted in yourself

You had fucked his son…

And the worst part is that at night when you were tossing and turning, you weren’t feeling guilty, you were feeling annoyed that Harwin was the “Strong” in the house and not Jacaerys

And that made you disgusted in yourself

Lucky for you, Harwin, in a way to consolidate with you, called your name softly as you were having breakfast on opposite sides of the dinner table, telling you he had an interview out of the city in the Headquarters for another company

And then you could breathe, and count the seconds left until he leaves

Will you call Jacaerys?

No, impossible

Were you wishing he had that incredible timing of his again?

Maybe

You shook your head, trying to eliminate those thoughts from your head

The furthest Jace stayed from you the better…

Specially now

But soon, Harwin’s week of having his kids came around again, and of course, Jace was coming, he wouldn’t miss it for the world

You tried to act as natural as possible, again, your daughter helped as a shield

Seeing him there, as nothing had happened, made you question your own reality, you felt yourself embarrassingly wet between your thighs as soon as you saw him, dirty memories of what you had done together came rushing back and you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t want it to happen again…

Now you had two men with longing looks in their eyes and hoping to get you alone for a second, and you wouldn’t give in, you couldn’t

Luckily, Luke and Joffrey were there too, those sweet boys were helping you too, they seemed to be happy to be back and see you, you loved them… perhaps, no as your children, but as your youngest siblings

So the third day, when Harwin was out for a work interview, Jace approached you while you were preparing lunch, you jumped on your feet as Luke was right in the living room playing in his nintendo witch with headphones on

“Relax”, he laughed

“It’s not funny Jace”, you whispered as he mocked your reaction

“I wanted to ask you something”, he whispered, his stance was relaxed, not second intended, or you didn’t think so

“Tell me”, you said

“I wanted to invite you to my birthday party, the one that my grandfather Viserys is throwing me”, he said softly. You looked at him, looking for something that tells you he was kidding, or he had a hidden intention, but those beautiful, dark green eyes told you nothing

“Jace I think it’s out of place”, you said finally

“Look, no funny business, it is a family thing, I want Aerea there, and Harwin can’t take her because he's going to that interview out of the city…”

“I’m not sure if its a good idea”

“It is my birthday, And I want you and Aerea there, I would only take her, but because it’s a weekend we won’t have nannies and I…”

“You are the birthday boy”, you said, “you shouldn’t be taking care of a toddler”

“Please go”, he said softly

“It’s going to be awkward”, you whispered

“No it won’t”

“But I’m not blood related to anyone there…”

“Well Aerea is”, he suggested

“That only makes me remember what I’ve done”, you whispered

“The only thing you have done is let yourself be loved by me”, he whispered, leaning in, but you took a step back, looking at Luke who couldn’t even be bothered

“I’ll go, if you promise me… please, nothing out of line”, you begged softly

“I promise”, he whispered

He wasn’t an idiot… he was testing the waters with his family and even though he needed to show you to them in a more… intimate… way, he had to keep his hands to himself… at least in front of everyone

He had won this small victory

The weekend came around

He was turning twenty two but that is not what most excited him

It was you

He had come early to his grandfather’s house, where he was going to spend the weekend, and so were you and the rest of his family, including his mother

He was so looking forward to it.

His grandfather’s house was the Targaryen family home, and he wouldn’t be lying if he said it was a castle, a huge castle in the middle of a national park

He heard a car pulling up so he sneaked a glance through the window, and there you were, struggling to get Aerea out of the car, with a bag hanging from your shoulder and your adorable toddler in the other

You were going to struggle even more when you are fat with his child, Jace thought with a silly smile

Of course the house was in the outskirts, so the invitation also included a room in the mansion for the weekend

Oh Gods he was going to enjoy it

You were nervous, as Area looked around moving tirelessly in your arms, there was so much to see though

This was like a medieval castle, incredible that had passed through generations and generations of Targaryens

You received a warm welcome from the family, even from Rhaenyra

“Who is this gorgeous little girl?”, she cooed at Aerea and even threw her arms at her, you felt embarrassed but she immediately received her in her arms. “She is gorgeous!”, she praised at you, “Like the daughter I never had”, she said with a sad smile

“Thank you for inviting me Rhaenyra, Jace wanted his baby sister here”, you said softly

“Please, say no more, you are family”, she said again regaining her smile, as Aerea played with her earring softly, “anything you need, ever, I mean it, you only have to ask”, she said and smiled at you, you smiled back

She and Harwin ended amicably, she was the one to end things and he accepted it with a bit of reluctance. They split everything they had, shared custody 50/50, everything was great, very evolved.

You came back to the present when Jace himself met you with open arms and those eyes that seemed to want to eat you alive, you almost cringed away…

“There you are!, I’m so happy you are here”, he said it playfully, looking at Aerea who instantly throw her arms at Jace

“Daddy!”, she called and your mouth opened in an o, you looked at Rhaenyra, who chuckled, smiling warmly

“They are so close”, you said apologetically

“Jace had been telling me what has happened lately”, you wanted the earth to swallow you, “and how he likes to be there helping you out around the house”, she almost whispered at you, only you two could hear, “its perfectly fine that Aerea looks at him like a father figure, children are… simpler than we are”, she said with a warm smile

Rhaenyra was certainly something else

They had invited you for the weekend, they showed you your rooms, Aerea was set in the nursery, yes, the house had a nursery, with Rhaenyra’s children who shared her age, and you had a room all to yourself

The nannies were taking care of the children, and dinner time, the adult dinner time, was above you sooner than you ever expected.

You felt watched the entire dinner, and not only by Jace, but you found his uncles staring at you, Aemond and Aegon, the first hiding his smirk in his goblet of wine, afterwards licking his lips teasingly, and the other didn’t even mind hiding it

You wondered why

But you felt so judged, did they know? as the wine flowed more freely, you became more paranoid, but it was impossible

If they knew then everyone knew, and your would have not been welcomed here if it was the case, Rhaenyra was a fierce woman she would have stabbed you with that knife her father Viserys was using to carve into a chicken

Luckily Rhaenyra kept you entertained and distracted, along with Daemon, their conversation was light, and seemed like a godsent

Viserys stood up, raising his cup

“I wanted to celebrate my eldest grandson, reaching this magical age of twenty two”, he said raising his cup, “for him, and for his achievements, I know there are going to be more of them”, everyone cheered, raising his cups and Jace smiled at everyone

He raised from his seat then, his own cup in his hands

“Thank you grandfather”, he said solemnly, “this means a lot to me, one thing that I’ve understood the last years, is that family is everything, and I can’t wait to have my own”, he said the last part looking at you, and you tried to hide your ashamed face in your own cup

Daemon chuckled

“You might be getting ahead of yourself”, he warned with amusement

“No when you know what you want”, Rhaenyra seemed proud of his words, and she nodded enthusiastically, you knew she had him when she was nineteen, same as Harwin, she was young herself. “I’m fortunate to have you all here, as you mean so much to me”

The next one to raise from her seat was Rhaenyra herself

“To my oldest son”, she said with her voice on a knot, “can’t believe you are already twenty two!, you are a grown man now… I’m so proud of you”, it was a heartfelt sentiment and you smiled at her, she looked down and smiled at you too

For a second, for a fraction of a second, you thought you were actually here with Jace and not for him, and the realization that you weren’t brought you a dark sentiment you hid in a sip of wine.

Gods…

His were on you, as you made conversation with Rhaenyra and Daemon, even though you were technically still in your twenties, as many of the group, you felt the need to cling to the second generation instead of the third

“I’m sorry, lovely lady, I must have forgotten your name”, Aegon, you thought he was called, demanded your attention and you got nervous all of a sudden, you were about to answer, but someone answered for you

“She is (y/n)”, said Jacaerys, quick to anger

“I’m sorry nephew, I asked her”, teased Aegon. Jacaerys was quickly exasperated, “Her name, and her reason to be here, scapes me”

“I wanted her here”, he said angrily, and now the rest of the family was strangely quiet, Daemon looked at everything with a mocking grin on this face… Viserys tried to eat his chicken, but looked at everything with a strange look on his face… and Rhaenyra and Alicent looked at everything unravel with surprised looks on their faces

“You are so forgetful brother, she is Harwin’s new little wife”, muttered Aemond, in a voice so condescending it made your skin crawl

“Right”, said Aegon, like now he remembered you, “aren’t you closer to our age than his?”

“Aegon, that’s enough”, chided Alicent again

“They say that love is ageless”, muttered Daemon

“They are separated now”, said Jace

“Well, that is better! thank you Jacaerys for bringing such a welcome addition”, kept teasing Aegon

You shouldn’t have come

Aegon was staring at you trough the rest of the dinner with a smirk on his lips, Aemond was more discrete.

You felt like they knew what you and Jace had done just by looking at your guilty face, only one look and they would know how depraved you were, pretending you did nothing, siting here by Jace’s mother.

Aemond stood up then, raising his cup

“Final tribute”, he chanted, “For Jacaerys, you are a man grown now, that knows what he wants and is not afraid to go after it”, he said, looking straight at you

“Thank you uncle”, said Jacaerys, “that was very kind”, he said trough gritted teeth

It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he kept quiet, You looked to your right, and Rhaenyra was looking right back at you, and smiled warmly

“It’s alright”, she said, and you didn’t know why it sounded so strange to you

You looked back at Jace and he just smirked

Gods, you should have never come to this thing, Aerea wouldn’t even remember this, Jacaerys was just playing with you

Did he get off just… putting you in this position? what was he thinking? Did he wanted to humiliate you?

What did he wanted to accomplish?

You didn’t know what to feel or think.

Despite Daemon’s invitation for a late drink with Rhaenyra, you had politely declined, and your daughter was already asleep, and you were so tired and tense, you decided you were going to follow, and went back to your own room to sleep

But as soon as you were comfortable inside the sheets, the door opened slowly, you turned quickly, and even in the darkness, but the only light coming from the hallway, you could tell, it was Jace

“What are you doing?”, you asked, he closed the door behind him and sneaked into the room

“Getting my birthday present”, he teased walking towards the room

“Jace, don’t”, you wanted but he was already taken off his shirt

“Its still my birthday”, he purred, you sat on the bed, the sheets barely hiding your body dressed in your night dress

“Not here”, you begged

“Where else? everyone else is busy or asleep”, he begged, his hands, even in the dark, found your cheeks, “come on”, he leaned in and trapped your lips with his.

“Jace, why did you invited me here?”, you asked him, leaning into him, it was useless to resist him, you wanted him too

“Isn’t it obvious?”, he teased, he sneaked onto the bed with you

“Jace please”

“Its my fucking birthday and you are my present, that’s why you are here”, you only moaned when he put you on your side, he at your back

“Tell me…”

“Shut up”, he growled making you whimper, his hand encased your throat, threatening to squeeze, but he didn’t, “tonight you are my perfect little whore”, he whispered, his other hand sneaking between your thighs, “I want to unwrap my present”

“Jace I think”

“I don’t want you to think…”, and all thoughts went to shit when he fingers teased you open, even though you had closed your thighs, it was a stretch even for his thick fingers, “I want you to take my fingers, then my cock”

“Jace!”, you schreeched when his fingers found that spot inside of you

“Shut up, if you don’t want everyone in this house to know the slut you really are”, he threatened, and that only made you moan, spreading your legs to give him more access, he squeezed your neck softly, in warning

He grabbed your leg and hooked it over his, so now he had you all open for him

You were quickly wet with desire for him, the sounds of your wetness resounding all over the room.

Your climax built quickly…

The very thought of being roughly treated like that turned you on, the fact that you were in such dangerous territoy was even more hot to you in that moment, so you began bucking your hips to meet his fingers.

“Mmmm that’s it”, he could be cruel, he could take your orgasm from you, for trying to deny him, for resisting, but tonight he wasn’t feeling like that, tonight he wanted to make you cum as much times as he could, that is what his real present was.

You came undone on his fingers, drowning your moans and whines on the pillow under you, which Jace really appreciated, this was not how he intended on presenting you as his partner

“Youa re suh a good girl for me”, he whispered in your ear, “tell me, who makes you cum like this?”

“You”, you whined, as he retrieved his hand from you gently

“Say it again”, he demanded

“Only you Jace, you are the only one who makes me cum like this”, you admitted

“That’s it”, he said, pleased, his fingers came back, this time more aggressively, more teasingly, he did not want to deprive you of anything, but what he really wanted to do was to hear you beg for him.

“Jacey”, you whined, again bucking your hips so needily it mad ehim chuckle, squeezing softly your delicate neck

“Yes?”, he asked, giving you an open mouth kiss on the side of your face,

“I need you”

“What you are talking about? I’m right here”, he kept teasing

“I need your cock”, you revealed, and he couldn’t hide his chuckle

“Where?”, he kept teasing he loved hearing your voice, but he liked it even more when you were begging for him

Not like he could last any longer without fucking you, his cock had never been harder on his life

“Inside me”, tonight you were not in the mood for teasing he could see.

“Oh I see, my little slut”, he mocked, he released you, making you cry out and then he, “you need me to fuck you, uh?”, his thumb billied your clit making you whine, trying so hard not to scream his name in ecstasy.

“Yes I do”, you admitted shameslely

“Oh I will give it to you then”, he teased, releasing you, grabbing his cock, and thent easing your entrance, “Mmmm but just the tip?”, you tried to sink yourself onto him, but he had fisted his cock making it impossible, only his fat tip teasing you

“No”, you whined

“No what?”

“All of it”, you begged, wiggling your ass, “please I want all of it”

“You needy little girl”, he moaned in your ear, and from one second to the next he impaled you on his fat cock, covering your mouth so nobody could hear you

Jace never knew nothing better that being inside you

“This cock is yours”, he promised against the skin of your cheek, “I’m goona fuck you so good you know nothing but my name, and I’m going to cum inside you, fucking breed you”

“Mmm?”, you were so deep in your pleasure his words barely made sense, they just made you wetter

“Fuck yes”, he retrieved himself, only to thrust inside you again, rougher, deeper, “I’m going to breed you, get you pregnant with my child”

“Jace?”, that did sink in, but late, as he growled cumming deep inside of you.

But you payed no attention to it, it was surely a thing of the heat of the moment, nothing else, many had a breeding kink, you amongst them

“In my grandparent’s home”, he whispered, “dirty little whore”, he growled

“Happy birthday Jace”, you said only, the spell fading, as he chuckled in your neck

Oh if only you knew… they you were being watched

Reader thinks Jace only wants her to fuck :(

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