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lcriedlastnight · 1 year ago

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Hi :)

Is this the request? :

Friends to lovers with Lando and him being absolutely love sick, mesmerised with reader and one time it's just them two together and he says "For my sanity, we should start dating."

anon. i am literally in love with you. thank you soooooo much. mwah!!

tw: fem! reader, swears, lando’s first win, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.6k

the paddock was bustling, the heat was sweltering. after lando's horrible sprint race, everyone on his team was desperate to make today's race go well. they'd gotten the brit his favourite pre-race snack, given him extra blankets and pillows for his drivers room couch, they'd even gotten oscar to agree to not complain about how loud lando's pre- race playlist was! but the one thing (person) that could actually calm lando down and get him into the racing mindset was nowhere to be seen.

you'd been in the cafeteria, lando begging you to come to states for this race, he had told you that there was a feeling in his gut that this race was going to be great. so you braved the miami heat, just for him. just like each and every time you came to a race. you did actually believe that this race would be special, you shared that gut feeling with lando, so you'd begged your boss for time off and told your lecturer that it was a family members wedding in miami that you just found out you were invited to. you didn't really try hard on the excuse for your lecturer, knowing he didn't care less if you were there or not, just as long as you had submitted all the assignments that were due.

so that's why you were sitting at a table in the cafeteria, with your phone on do not disturb and you headphones in blasting your studying playlist in your ears, typing away on your computer. you didn't know that everyone was looking for you. it's not like you were that well hidden anyways, you were just sitting in the corner of the cafeteria and the motor home wasn't that big. it certainly wasn't big enough to lose someone when there was ten plus people searching for them.

you don't notice one of lando's engineers sitting at the opposite side of the table, as you try your best to finish your essay before the race starts. you do, however feel about seven light taps on the table that makes you pull your eyes from the laptop screen in front of you. you pull your left ear free from the music coming through your headphones.

"hi?" you say, looking at the man. you didn't know who he was, just that he was an engineer.

"everyone is looking for you." he tells you, a little frantic. this worries you.

"what? why? what's wrong?" you ask him, not sure if he knew what was wrong or if he was just the messenger.

"dunno." well that answers that. "lando's been asking for you for the past hour and a half. he's been saying it's urgent." your eyebrows raise in concern. you quickly close your laptop and slide your headphone around your neck. you slip out the chair, thanking the engineer, and heading to lando's driver room.

you knock a few times before just opening the door. the sight you see almost makes you burst out laughing. lando is in his fireproofs, you can see the peak of papaya from underneath the multiple blankets on top of him. there must be about seven on top of him, all of them varying in colour and patterns. lando was practically buried under the weight of them all, stuck to the couch. oscar stood at one end of the couch, you suppose he was the one to blame for this, although this could be the work of lando himself. either way you didn't really know what this was supposed achieve.

"what is going on?" you ask after assessing the situation they had both gotten lando into. "i'm really confused right now." you smile though, the scene still hilarious looking.

"we couldn't find you anywhere and lando needed you." oscar explains, although all it does is leave you more confused than when you first walked in. in what way were you the same as seven blankets?

"right. makes sense. seeing as i am seven blankets. i can see how this would help." you tease them, sarcasm dripping from your words as you lay your laptop, phone and headphones on the nearby table.

oscar rolls his eyes, while yours flit to lando who stays quiet to let oscar explain. you swear you could see a hint of red on his cheeks but you don't get enough time to see if it actually is, in fact blush because oscar is talking again and stealing your attention.

"well he told me that to get in the 'racing mindset' he gets you to lay on top of him and rest all of your weight on top of him so i thought putting blankets on top of him would simulate you laying on top of him!" oscar grins, like his idea is actually a good one. you feel like groaning at his dumbness. a part of you is taken aback that lando had told oscar about what he called his 'pre-race ritutal'.

"right well i'm here now, so why don't you go do your own race prep while i sort out whatever is going on here?" you suggest to oscar, he can tell it's not a suggestion though. so he does what he's told, wishing lando good luck on the track but before he closes the door behind him he whispers to you "and you think he doesn't like you like that? he quite literally needs you to lay on top of him to calm him down". you just sigh and walk over to the driver, once oscar is finally gone.

"what are you doing, stupid boy?" you ask, sitting by his feet on the couch. lando only staring back in response. you stare back until he responds.

"missed you?" he offers. this time you can't hold back your laugh. if your eyes were closed from the laughter you would see the way lando's light up at the sound of your laugh. the pride he felt to the one who made you laugh, it was better than any other feeling. once your laughter stops, you pull back the blankets. they actually didn't weigh much at all, which makes you wonder why lando was acting as if he was trapped under them.

"it's like oscar said, i needed you and literally no one could find you so i went to him for help. then he suggested that and i just went along with it." lando helps shrug off the blankets as he properly explains. the brunette ends up sitting next to you, eyes looking into yours.

it's your turn to explain. "i was trying to finish my essay before the race started, seeing as i won't have time tonight. we'll hopefully be going out afterwards." you explain your 'dissapearance’.

lando nod and hums then checks his phone, that was hidden in between blanket layers. it's almost time for him to go out to the garage and he's literally had no time with you at all. how was he supposed to race in these conditions?

"that's alright, love. guess we just need to make up for lost time right now." lando states, his hands grabbing yours and pulling you on top of him. lando's breaths instantly even out. you didn't know if he was panicking and getting in his head about the race or what it was, all you knew was that you laying on top of him, putting all of your weight on him was helping. and that's all you really wanted.

lando's breaths hit you neck at you run your fingers across the bridge of his nose. usually when you guys would do this before races, you would run your fingers through his hair, but his latest injury on the bridge of his nose made you want to run your fingers across his cut lightly. lando shudders but relaxes once your light movements continue. you both stay in that position until an alarm goes off on your phone, signalling at lando needs to be at the garage in five minutes (you always set two alarms because there's no way you're getting lando out of here on time). with the way lando jumps you think he must have been seconds away from falling asleep. he confirms it by muttering "stupid fucking alarm." as grumpily as ever.

"right lan, let's get you moving." you say reluctant as you move off of him. he whines like a child and his arms cling onto your hips to try and stop you. he uses no force so you stand up easily.

"for the sake of my sanity, we should start dating." lando mutters, if it was a decibel quieter, you don't think you would've hear him. but you did. you don't think it was meant for your ears, either judging by the drivers reaction to your "what?".

you can see the cogs turning in his mind, does he try and wrangle himself out of this or does he stand his ground and admit his feelings. he thinks for a second.

"i like you. you're driving me insane. please can i at least take you out on a date?" lando is not above begging, he will literally fall to his knees if it means you will accept his offer. before you can, the alarm goes off on your phone.

you smirk at him, an idea popping into your head. "win today and we'll go out on tuesday." you tell him. lando groans, his head falling onto your shoulder. "if i do you have to give me a winners kiss." lando bargains.

"deal".

safe to say, you never thought that yours and lando's first kiss would be on the parc ferme, after he's just won his first face. nor did you think you would have to be getting ready for a date with him two days later. safe to say that essay was not getting submitted on time.

#lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #ln4 one shot #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lcriedlastnightrequests #lcriedlastnight

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wordsofwhimsy · 2 months ago

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【Ｏｐｐｏｓｉｔｅｓ　

Ａｔｔｒａｃｔ】 - Part Sixteen

Pairing: Mohawk!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: A *little* suggestive

Tags: Fluff, TENSION, bro’s out here licking batteries just for a little zing 😭

Word Count: 1,942

Chapter Synopsis: Mark’s been on his best behavior around you, and it has been torturous. Will you just give the man a bone already damn lmao

a/n: i forgot to post this yesterdayyy i’m so sorry y’all!! got a little too excited about my southern belle!reader idea – but i promise the NEXT CHAPTER 😏 it’s goin down

Part Fifteen

Mark was losing his mind.

Not because you weren’t spending time together—you were. Constantly, actually. Studying together (well, you studying – he was just emotional support), walking to class, sharing food, watching movies curled up on your bed like nothing ever happened.

Except something had happened. Five days ago, to be exact, and his body remembered it all too vividly.

Day One: You were in your room, tucked into his side under a blanket, a movie playing from your laptop and his fingers gently stroking your thigh through your leggings. He didn’t even mean to test the waters, not at first—but you shifted, just barely, muscles tensing under his palm like a startled deer.

He froze. You didn’t look at him, just stared at the screen a little too hard.

He pulled his hand back and stuffed it under the blanket like it had betrayed him.

Day Two: He kissed you in your dorm hallway before he left for the night. Soft. Sweet. Long enough to make your lips part on instinct. He let his hand wander—lightly, reverently—up the curve of your waist, fingers brushing just beneath your hoodie.

You pulled away with a nervous little laugh, cheeks flushed. “Okayyy, goodnight!” you said, almost like a warning.

He stood there for a full thirty seconds after the door shut, forehead pressed to the wood like holy god please let me touch her stomach again before I die.

Day Three: You wore a sundress to class—Emily really was starting to have an influence on you.

Mark did not survive.

He didn’t even try anything that day. Just sat next to you, visibly vibrating, trying to keep his hands to himself like a Victorian gentleman with a barely-contained god complex.

You laughed at one of his dumb jokes and laid your hand on his arm, and that alone nearly made him bust.

He went home and took the coldest shower of his life.

Day Four: He walked you home in the rain, ending up on your bed while he towel-dried your hair with all the care of someone unwrapping a relic. You were sitting between his legs, laughing as he fussed over you, when his hands slid just a little lower down your arms—palms flat, dragging slow and warm over damp skin.

You stilled.

His stomach dropped. “Too much?” he asked softly.

You nodded, still smiling, but it was a tight little smile that said love you, but yeah—too much. He backed off instantly, wrapping the towel around your shoulders instead and pressing a kiss to the top of your head like it didn’t physically pain him.

Which it did.

Day Five: He gave up. No flirting. No touching. Just a long walk through the park with your hand tucked into the crook of his arm like the gentleman he’d become against his will.

“I like being with you,” you said, almost shyly, as you stopped to feed a duck.

“I like being with you more,” he said back, without even thinking. You smiled. He looked at your lips. Then looked away. Because he was nothing if not strong.

Mostly.

Mark had never gone this long without sex. Ever. He’d gone longer without air. Or sleep. Or sanity.

But for you? He’d wait forever.

Even if he had to buy stock in cold showers and walk around campus carrying his hoodie in front of his jeans like a lovesick sinner.

Three Months Later…

Location: Somewhere Above the HimalayasTime: 12:47 PM local / 3:47 AM back home

Mark floated just below the stratosphere, arms crossed and jaw tight as he scanned the snowy ridgeline below. His comm buzzed in and out, background chatter filling his ear like white noise. Some terrorist compound. Some underground bunker. He’d already wiped out three before breakfast and was seconds from punching a satellite just to feel something.

Then—

Buzz. His phone vibrated in his thigh holster. Weird. Nobody ever texted him mid-mission unless—

He glanced.

You: kinda missing you a lot right now…

His heart skipped. His brows furrowed.

Image Attachment

He blinked. Opened it. Nearly fell out of the sky.

“—Mark, do you copy? Eyes on the last location?” came the comm, but it sounded like it was underwater now.

Because holy hell.

You were laying in your bed, hair messy from sleep, a muscle tank slipping off your shoulder and clearly nothing underneath. You were biting your finger, brows furrowed and raised, expression innocent and sultry and so damn sweet it could’ve killed him.

He made a sound. A feral one.

Then he was gone.

Straight up abandoned the mission, took off like a heat-seeking missile with one goal and one goal only. Fuck a terrorist when you were looking like that.

—

You tossed your phone aside with a sigh, moving onto your side as you curled into a half ball. You were lonely. Emily was gone, Mark was gone. It was just you and Pesto. You’d just finished watching Ghost and for reasons you couldn’t understand it did something to you. Put a warmth in your lower belly that you’d never really felt before. It only made you miss Mark, hence the text. Hence the photo. Hence the loneliness.

A tube sock with googly eyes inched across the floor and stopped right in your view, turning to stare you down. You frowned. Your creations had been your only company for so long, and you’d loved them – really you did – but right now, all you wanted was Mark.

With a huff you pushed up and off the mattress, shuffling over to your desk and flipping open your laptop. Maybe some mindless doomscrolling could set your mind right.

You genuinely started to lose yourself in the brain numbing content, occasionally laughing, occasionally crying, occasionally gasping – the usual round of emotions you experienced when on the internet.

You were mid-scroll on a video of someone deep-frying a whole cheesecake when you screamed.

Three loud, fast bangs hit your window in rapid succession, like someone was trying to break in—or break through. Your heart launched into your throat as you launched your laptop into the air, catching it by some miracle before it smacked the floor.

“What the—” you half-whimpered, half-snarled, spinning toward the noise.

A shape. A shadow. A body. Your dorm window rattled again. It was him. You stormed over, yanked the blinds open—and nearly passed out on sight.

Mark hovered there, eyes glowing faintly in the darkness, expression unreadable, nostrils flared. His mohawk was wind-blown and jagged. His suit looked tight around his chest, like it was struggling to hold back how hard he was breathing. There was snow melting off his shoulders and steam curling off his skin like smoke.

He looked like he’d just fought a war. Or was about to start one. You stared. He stared back. Then his hand lifted—slowly—and tapped the glass again, once.

Tap.

You fumbled with the latch, shoved the window open, and barely got out, “Mark! W-What the hell—”

He was in. Not flying. Not hovering.

Just there, crouched inside your dorm room like a big angry jungle cat, eyes scanning you from head to toe with something dangerously close to awe. Or hunger.

You stumbled back a step. “You—you scared the crap out of me—”

He shook his head like he didn’t even register what you were saying. “What the hell was that photo?” he said, advancing again. “In that shirt. With that look. Saying you missed me—kinda missed me—like you weren’t out here killing me on purpose.”

“I wasn’t—!” you said quickly, backing up until your knees hit the bed. “I wasn’t, I swear! I was just—Emily wasn’t here and I’d watched Ghost and—Pesto was being weird and I was lonely and—”

“Don’t talk about Pesto right now.”

You furled your lips in. “Sorry.”

Mark finally exhaled—long, low, trying to calm himself. “You… you can’t send me stuff like that and then just expect me to carry on like normal. I’ve been—” he stopped, raked a hand through his hair. “You don’t know how hard it is not to lose control around you.”

Your cheeks went hot. “I didn’t mean to tease you…”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I know that. That’s what makes it so—so hard. You don’t even realize what you’re doing to me half the time.”

His eyes met yours, softer now. “You know I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

You nodded, heart thudding.

He took another step closer.

“But I’m begging you,” he murmured, “don’t send me any more pictures like that unless you want me to show up.”

You swallowed. “I wasn’t expecting you for another week…”

“Yeah. That plan’s dead.” He was on you before you could breathe. One hand cupped your jaw, the other locked behind your waist, and his mouth crashed into yours with a hunger that had been simmering for months. He kissed like he needed it to breathe, to live.

You made a tiny startled sound against his lips and he groaned, breaking the kiss just long enough to whisper, “Tell me Emily’s not here.”

“She’s not,” you breathed, fingers shaky against his chest.

“Good,” he muttered, dragging his lips down your throat, voice muffled. “’Cause I really don’t want to stop this time.”

Your breath caught as his mouth brushed the curve of your neck, slow and reverent and way too hot for someone wearing snow-damp boots.

His hands trembled—just barely—but you felt it. Not out of fear. Out of restraint. He was holding back a hurricane.

You clung to his shoulders, unsure whether to push or pull. “Mark,” you whispered, head tipping back when his lips ghosted your collarbone. “We… I…”

He paused instantly. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t back off. But froze, every muscle tense like you’d just yanked a leash on a beast mid-pounce. “I know,” he said quietly, voice still rough. “I know. You’re not ready.”

Your hands tightened in the fabric of his suit. “I didn’t say stop.”

That made his head drop to your shoulder, a broken sound leaving his throat. “God, don’t say things like that.”

“I just… I don’t want to go too fast.”

“I’ll wait forever if I have to,” he murmured, brushing his nose against your cheek. “You think I care how long it takes? I’ve waited months. I’ll wait years. I don’t want you because I want sex. I want you because you’re you.”

Your eyes stung a little.

He leaned back just enough to see your face, brushing your hair from your cheek with a gentleness that nearly broke you. His thumb traced your bottom lip. “I want every first you’re ready to give me,” he said softly. “Even if it’s just falling asleep next to you. Or holding your hand when you’re studying. Or letting Pesto glare at me from the windowsill while I rub your back until you fall asleep.”

A laugh escaped you—wet, breathy. “He does glare at you a lot.”

“He’s got it out for me. I’m not even joking.”

You leaned into him then, burying your face in his chest, and his arms came around you immediately. Strong. Steady. Warm in that weird superhuman way that always made you feel like you were wrapped in a heated blanket built out of muscle and devotion.

You stood like that for a long moment. Breathing. Calming. Letting the storm pass.

Then you murmured, “You can still kiss me, though.”

And holy hell did that switch flip.

———————

Part Seventeen

———————

#invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson fanfic #mohawk mark x reader

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deer1nheadlight · 2 months ago

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i d i o t

━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━

big brother!Takami Keigo x little sister!reader

Keigo, to escape his suppressed feelings, rushed into marriage with a random girl. As his sanity crumpled under the weight of his guilt, the tabloids published rumors of your first public relationship. A mental breakdown ensues.

Or: man refuses to admit to being a siscon, instantly regrets it

WARNING: incest, con to dub-con to con, squirting, omorashi, impregnation, dacryphilia (not quite but a lot of sobbing), psychological torture (on Keigo but kinda light), anal, loss of virginity.

A/n: SPOILER FOR BHNA. I have absolutely not watched BHNA past season 3 and what I know about Keigo at the end of the series is pretty much just from reading the wiki page. (EDIT: I didn't even realise the last season isn't out yet. MAJOR SPOILER TO WHAT HAPPENS TO HAWKS at the end of the manga) That being the case, my story may make Keigo incredibly out of character. Unfortunately for this poor man, I am alive to make great men do pathetic things, and so for whatever he's become at the end, spin in a circle 30 times and throw that out the windows for me my beloved.

A/n 2: to @iwaasfairy , thank you so much for encouraging me to post this! I was the anon who sent in that one ask the other day. It was actually really fun learning how much effort posting content is. I hope this icky ewy fic is a fun read <3

Word count: 9.2k

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Keigo married her in August.

They divorced within the same year.

It was a huge waste of money, that whole ordeal, and the poor girl was even made out to be the bad guy. Someone spread the rumor that she had been cheating on him all over the internet, and her reputation as an up-and-coming idol was all but ruined. Not that it was merely a rumor, she did cheat, but you sympathized. Because if on your wedding night, your husband got completely black-out drunk and then treated you like a stranger in your own home afterwards, you'd seek other people too. Life is way too short to wait around for an idiot, you've realized.

You stand there emotionlessly watching your older brother on his knees in front of your doorstep. He looks even worse than the day he stood at the altar for the first time, and for a second you almost feel bad for him.The color continues being siphoned from his face the longer you stay silent. Despite all he's been through, he doesn't think he has ever experienced such a sense of hopelessness like this. Even when he was in danger of losing his life, it didn't feel as terrifying as right now when he's in danger of losing you. Had he been honest with himself from the start, maybe he could have prevented the entire mess. He had mistaken your calm façade for acceptance of his dumb decisions.

His relationship with you could not have been more uncomplicated, but he tried to make it so anyway. You both knew you loved each other more than siblings should. Way more. Whether it was the result of the fucked-up childhood you two had that caused your codependency or that you're both just doomed to fall in incestuous love the moment you're born, the truth is simply that he adores you. And you adored him too.

But Keigo tried (and miserably failed) to conceal it. When people are in love, it's pathetically hard to keep themselves in check around their lovers, and he was no different. Before he knew it, his hands would keep planting themselves on your hips, holding your hair, and stroking your hair. His eyes would become hazy, and all he could see was you. His lips would then find your forehead, your nose, your ears, and while convincing himself just a platonic peck is completely normal, they would suction themselves on your own and stay there for hours.

Yet whenever you say "I love you" to him, he'd never say it back without poorly concealing it behind some reminder of your blood relation. He'd add something unnecessary like, "I love you too, you're my baby sis," or "you're the best sister in the world," or God forbid, "kiddo." Kiddo. You hate "kiddo" more than anything. It grates because of what it means coming from him, drawing a line between you, puts you below, out of reach, not even in the same world. It implies you're only a kid to him, and that couldn't be further from the truth.

He, more than anyone, sees you as the beautiful woman you have grown up to be. That term he used is so that he could fool himself into believing that you're still the same little girl he'd only felt familial love for many years ago. While that was already a blatant lie by the time Keigo got his first boner, he still clung to that unendearing nickname like a lifeline, hoping it'd save him from his perverted feelings. All it did was fill up another milliliter in your bottle of repressed anger every time he used it.

Moral. He was so obsessed with morality. By the gods, you sometimes felt as though you didn't deserve to be called his sister. While his abuse led him to believe in heroes and become a better person, your abuse led you to believe in him and rely on only him.

One day, you were being taught about the different kinds of crimes in the world, the ones besides punching and kicking people or robbing a bank. The kinds that were more insidious, lurked behind closed doors and hid in plain sight. Although some topics were incredibly morbid, none of them disturbed Keigo more than that one. That one that said he can't love you the way he wanted to. You had no problem letting it go in one ear and out the other, though. The only time you learn is when he teaches you again afterwards.

However, you remember him staring at you after the lesson with this pained look on his face. Maybe things could have ended right there had he been a stronger man, but instead he only learned how to make better excuses. Kissing you is moral; siblings in other countries kiss like this all the time. Shielding you from other men is normal; he's just very protective. Bathing with you until you were forced to live elsewhere for your respective missions is completely fine; your wings are hard to take care of, after all.

Kept downplaying the kind of grooming he was doing to you and expecting you not to fall for it. How could you not? You were only a stupid little girl, after all. He was your entire world at that point, and rejecting him was like rejecting yourself.

So day by day, your love kept twisting, and eventually you began expressing it. At first it was difficult to understand why he wouldn't do the things in those naughty books to you, despite reading them all the time. The furthest he'd go is a hand groping your breasts, even though they said something about his penis going in your tummy. It wasn't until you looked it up after seeing the word "taboo" everywhere did you realise why. Still, it's not like you care. Unlike him, you don't have much passion to be righteous. You were always ready to receive everything he gave you, no matter how "wrong" it was.

Maybe that's what made him arrogant. Why he believed that the moment he finally reached back for you, you'd still be there waiting. For a while, that was the case. You let him delude himself because you didn't want to burden him even more, you loved him too much. Especially when your spy training was nowhere near as grueling as his. Your task as an "inferior specimen" was to simply climb the social ladder as an actress to gather intel and connections for the HPSC. Well, that's not easy either, but between dancing with villains or with actors all day, you'd choose the latter.

One day, that all changed, though. The events that caused society and the very idea of heroes to collapse shook you awake from the dreamy and shapeless state of your relationship with Keigo. You experienced true despair sitting beside his hospital bed the day he lost his wings. Life is too short. You can't continue like this. You need to hear him say it before either one of you gets to die, or to never say it at all.

You made the decision to confront him on the rooftop of his flashy penthouse during a cold night, after the dust had settled. Did he deserve that reality check so soon after surviving a war and becoming a president? Why, yes. It was long overdue. Your bottles of feelings that you've been filling up and putting away for his sake were bursting open, so for once in your life you did something for your sake.

Usually when you meet at that time of the day, there is only so much to do. But that night, it was to either push your feelings off the ledge of that tall building or give it all to him. You said how you felt, confronted him about his actions, each word you uttered twisted the knife further into his stomach. Your hands gripped his collar, bringing him down to eye level as you begged him for an answer. It couldn't go on like this.

He'd seen this conversation coming since the day he taught you to kiss, but it wasn't any less scary. And he'd promised himself that the day you're finally fed up with his shit, he'd gather enough strength to stop his tainted love for you.

You did not take kindly to his idiotic ramblings. It was not the answer you were looking for. Idiot, idiot, idiot. He shouldn't have apologized, he should have taken responsibility for corrupting you like this and then trying to claim the moral high ground. There was no need to have said sorry, you would never forgive him either way.

When he couldn't get it through his thick head that if he was a scum to have these feelings, what did that make you? – You walked off the ledge. It was nice seeing him trying to save you without his wings, forgetting that you had your own. Smaller, weaker ones that don't even resemble his enough for the public to make the connection, but strong enough to carry you away from the idiocy of it all.

It started falling apart for him from there.

After that night, you'd avoid him like the plague. Retracting your arm as if you're being burned every time he touches it. Pushing his affection away when you have never once done such a thing. Missing his calls when the only other time you ever did was when you were out cold on the hospital bed from a dangerous mission.

At first he thought that you were doing so because you hated him now and were forcing him to own up. It was terrible the first day, only got worse as it went on. Blew up your phone with apologies and had four panic attacks before receiving your last text. "Think about the last thing I said." He read it over and over again, but the only conclusion his bird brain could come up with was that he had already tainted you and there was no way to atone. Did you want him to leave you alone forever?

He had a feeling he'd dug a huge grave for himself when it was you whom he couldn't take his eyes off of at his wedding instead of his own bride. Suddenly, his reason for even doing an arranged marriage in the first place became moot. He thought tying himself to a random girl would remind him to stop having these sick affections towards you, and finally he can let you be.

It didn't.

When he showed up at your door to deliver the wedding invitation, your reaction was not what he expected. Had you asked him to think again, to call it off, he had a feeling he would have done so in a heartbeat. If you told him you'd forgive him, gave him any indication at all that you still care, just do what you ask, he would have done anything.

However, you didn't say any of that. You instead congratulated him with a smile he hadn't seen in so long and told him you'd love to give a speech at his wedding. He left your house hollowed inside and out, wondering whether it was too late to call off the engagement himself.

The answer was obvious. But he was a coward, and so he did nothing.

It felt like shit kissing someone who wasn't you. The girl was terribly excited about getting to marry her favorite former hero, but having her face grabbed and turned to the side when she thought she was finally kissing him proper really dampened her mood. It also left a bad taste in her mouth when Keigo seemed more focused on a random actress guest than his newlywed wife.

Especially when that actress' speech brought him to tears for no reason. He excused it by saying the woman had helped him during a really tough time, and he was so happy to see her there, but those tears felt indescribably sad. Then, he went and got drunk out of his mind, not even passing out in their wedding bed but at a hotel.

After that, she was like a ghost in his home. Keigo treated her like a fan, not a lover. He signed up for an arranged marriage but hadn't laid a finger on her body. He was always gone, to God knows where, came back at the dead of night, gone again before the sun rose. Even though he was no longer a public hero, he was still barely present at home. Of course no woman could handle letting their prime waste away like that.

You knew it was cruel to have given that speech about how much you "admire" him at the wedding. You didn't quite care enough to have laid it out any differently. You knew he thought getting married would get your attention, after how you gave him the cold shoulder and all. He thought you'd give him another chance when he delivered the invitation, because he looked like death when you barely lifted a brow. Sometimes he forgets you're an acclaimed actress. You wanted to let time knock some sense into him, because apparently his skull was too thick for your delicate hands to ever try.

The tabloids publicized images of you caught linking arms with a hero just a week after Keigo finalized his divorce. It caused a huge commotion due to your fame and that guy's popularity, to the point it even managed to take the spotlight off Keigo's failed attempt at a normal relationship. Then the overexcited guy even let it slip where he went on the day those pictures were taken, and the internet had a field day speculating.

No news concerning you escapes Keigo. It was no surprise that the supposed rumor made it to him as well. In all your years, never once had a scandalous story like this not been immediately squashed for fear of upsetting your millions of male fans, so the fact that it'd gone to this degree meant your manager let it be at your request, or that the paparazzi couldn't be paid enough to shut their trap because they caught something real.

Sitting on his bed staring at the blurry image of you smiling like an angel at some random man seemed to have helped him gain a few IQ points. His hand, in scrambling to reach for the spare keys to your house, knocked over the half-empty bottle of whiskey, and it lay forgotten on the floor after his front door slammed shut with a BANG!

Keigo was in no condition to drive, and luckily his chauffeur did not question why he was asked to take the man to some random convenience store in the middle of the night. As soon as the car turned the corner, he immediately bolted through the alley, down, down, down the streets, and finally arrived in front of your door. The dim moonlight made it harder to realize that no matter how hard he jammed the key in, it wouldn't turn because it was no longer the same lock.

When you opened the door, he was already on his knees, disheveled, his fists slightly scraped. Whereas before, if he was in distress, you would have been by his side in an instant; now, as he meets your disinterested gaze, Keigo feels waves of dizziness wash over him. A deeper despair than any villain could ever inspire. It's as if he's lost before he could even fight.

As satisfying as it was to make your cruel brother break so beautifully, you'd rather not have any passerby question why there's a man having a panic attack on your porch. You keep your face blank as you finally crouch down to take his hands and guide him inside silently. He doesn't make a sound, heart soaring just from feeling the heat of your fingertips again.

"Speak." You allow him, after you've served him a cup of dark coffee and yourself sweet tea. Keigo is sitting across from you, hunching over the table, both hands wrapped around the cup like a child being scolded, staring at the dark liquid inside. With your permission, he finally finds the courage to look up, only to wince upon seeing your poker face again.

"I'm sorry," his voice quivers, and you almost snort because it's the most predictable thing he could have said. Christ, your small hope that he would have gotten everything through his head by now is already dashed. Your poor brother needs more guidance still.

"I—I am so sorry, I was stupid, it was pointless, I've been lying—"

"Stop, Keigo," you interrupt and relish in the sight of his teary eyes. You never call him Keigo. Always at least Keigo-nii, oftenly nii-chan. Your usage of honorifics is a reminder to you both of the sacred and unbreakable bond you two share. You never use it when there are other people around because you weren't allowed to disclose your relationship to the public, lest you interfere with each other's mission. But not using it now when it's just the two of you makes it feel as though you've disowned him.

His lips tremble, and he could barely squeak out your name before you cut him off again.

"What are you here for?" You ask as if you didn't know. The dispassionate question has caused the first of many cracks in his fragile sanity to form.

He draws in a deep breath through clenched teeth. "Is… is it true?" Saliva pools at the back of his mouth, a drop of sweat runs down his back, both wanting to hear and fearing your answer. But such a vague question doesn't deserve your time. Today you force him to face the consequences of his dumb decisions.

"What is true, Keigo?" You twirl your spoon around, forming a whirlpool in your cup, not even gracing him with a glance. Apparently, sugar dissolving is more interesting to look at than the man crumbling before you.

He curls into himself further. If he still had his wings, you've no doubt he would have tried to hide behind them. “Are you..." he gulps, looking more like a little boy afraid of the dark than a hero who's been through hell and back. "You've started dating?" He clarifies, his voice shaky. He really hopes against hope that you would say no. That it's only a rumor, that he's still your only love. The mere thought of no longer belonging to you makes his eyes damp.

You laugh through your nose. That question made it sound as though you were some innocent maiden learning to love for the first time and not the depraved person whose first kiss is her nii-chan.

"Yes." You give him a clipped answer, knowing it will break him even further.

He is silent. You're not sure if he's breathing. His grip on the cup tightens until you think it might explode in his hands, the rattling sound of ceramic against wood tells you he’s shivering, millions of thoughts running through his head.

"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" It almost amuses you how you're able to say it without any hint of malice, without sounding bitter or spiteful. You're genuinely curious how far he can be pushed until he spills over.

"I..." he begins but stops short. He doesn't realize he's started crying until he feels something wet on his scarred hands.

Your anger has not been appeased, but your heart is softening just a bit. Still, you stay stoic because you need him to learn from this moment. He begins openly sobbing now; "I'm sorry" keeps falling from his lips. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, over and over and over again until it becomes a strange chant, every sorry uttered is another piece of his composure splintering off.

It is time for the closing act. Your teacup is empty, his coffee untouched, you set them both down on the table now. Linking your fingers with his own, you circle the table and pull his trembling figure into your arms. Through gasps and sobs, he reaches for you, holding on for dear life. You card a free hand into his disheveled hair, forehead to forehead, you have him focus on your eyes. "Why are you sorry?" Your whisper seems to have unlocked some hidden wisdom he stashed away and had forgotten about until now. Threads unravelling in his head, things becoming clearer. You've never once pushed him away. It was him, the problem, all along.

"Because I was wrong, I lied, I can't have a normal relationship with you, I can't—" You press a kiss on his bottom lips to silence him for a moment and he chokes. It feels like breathing again after being underwater for months. Your hand releases his, and he immediately chases after it until he realizes it was taking off his jacket.

"And remind me why you wanted a normal relationship with me again?" He closes his eyes, letting you dish out your revenge. All he wants to do is take it all and hope for your forgiveness.

"I wanted to be a hero. I was a hypocrite, I ruined you but I wanted to be a hero." A few tears slip down his chin. He thinks he must be a masochist, because when your tongue licks them away, his cock kicks awake in his pants.

"You know it was you who taught me it was alright to French kiss you, right?" You tug his jacket away and button by button, open his sweat-soaked shirt. "You corrupted me first." The hand in his hair doesn't stop massaging his scalp, and you can feel him nodding frantically even though you're kissing down his navel. Keigo grips the couch until his nails claw open the fabric. Doesn't dare move an inch lest you stop loving him.

"Open your eyes." And he pried them open immediately at your request. The sight he sees makes him think he's dead, actually, or is in a coma somewhere. Your wings are spread open, the chandelier lights reflect off of them in such a way that it frames your head, creating a halo. Looking down at him from above, like an angel coming to deliver his sentence, a hand cradling his head and the other on his erratic heart. "What do you want?"

Quivering lips, trembling hands, shaking like a leaf in a typhoon, he reaches out for your face. You allow him to pull your forehead towards his lips and peck it.

"I love you. I'm in love with you."

Ah, catharsis. Crying Keigo, stumbling Keigo, carrying you to your bed. He lays you on the plush mattress and promptly undresses himself but doesn't dare touch your sacred body. He kneels at the foot of your bed and scrambles forward at the beckoning curl of your index. You wrap his fingers around the knot that holds your bathrobe close and let him tug it apart, opening you like a present. A silky nightgown underneath that makes precum leak through his boxers.

He chokes back a sob as you wrap your hands around his neck in a comforting hold, your thumbs angling his jaw to look straight at you as he commits more and more sins to your body. His hands move on their own without him needing to look away from your eyes. Slipping under your gown, feeling your bare waist, your bare breasts. You allow him to do as he pleases. His inhibitions melt away like butter against the warmth of your skin. The warmth that he yearned for his entire life but always beat himself up over before he could taste it.

A drop of rain hits the windows and a bolt of lightning rips through the skies before it starts pouring. Like his dirty feelings, Keigo thought. It took almost losing the love of his life for him to start owning up to his mistakes. He will live to atone to you for the rest of his life. It has always been for you anyway, he remembers now. He wanted to make the world a better place so you could live a happy life. He wanted to be a hero so not only could he protect others, he could also protect you. He wanted to be strong so that he could provide and care for you forever. Somewhere along the way, he lost sight of that, didn't he? And it didn't help that the HPSC taught him all sorts of bullshit growing up. While he was off chasing some ever-moving goalposts, you were always behind him, picking up the things he dropped so you could hand them back to him when he took a break, and then goofing off again. He's wronged you, and it's a bigger sin than accepting his unacceptable love.

Again, he weeps, the tears blurring his vision until your hand caresses his head to ground him and wipes them away. He's lowered himself to lay his cheek on your stomach now, his cock still straining against his underwear and he had to push it into the mattress to relieve the pressure just a bit. Your thighs are around his neck, holding him comfortably until he stops sniffling.

"Please take me back," he pathetically whimpers, kissing your stomach and curling his arms around your thighs, spreading them further apart. The scent of your pussy reminds him of all the times he snuck a sniff of your dirty panties when he did the laundry. He'd rationalized it in his head that it was just accidental; he just happened to bend down too far and smell the cotton pink pair conveniently placed at the top of the pile, and just as accidentally licked a fat stripe over it a few times. His dick would then accidentally rub against his hands, and then he would come in his pants most coincidentally.

You chuckle and continue scratching behind his ears. "You know, he's a really nice guy. Took me on his jet, we had dinner on top of Tokyo."

"I can take you for dinner anywhere in the world, I'll buy you an airline," he mumbles in between hickeys on your stomach, which rocks slightly from your laughter. Only after exactly 10 slightly red little marks have formed does he begin moving down, slipping off your little panties.

"I didn't really care for that, though, you know I'm not materialistic. But, he was always there for me." At this Keigo rips his eyes away from the most beautiful pussy he's ever seen to look at the most beautiful face he's ever seen. Shot fired, his heart bleeds again. He is so handsome with his features twisted in guilt and damp from the tears.

"I won't ever leave again, even if you kill me," he lifts your left hand to his face and begs, "please?"

"Prove it, nii-chan." You wipe away the last of his tears, loving words send euphoria through his veins. Like a hungry dog, he dives down to take your entire pussy in his mouth, making out with it like it's your face. He realizes your pussy tastes like a forbidden fruit he doesn't want to stop eating, and it's overflowing with slick. He can't stop salivating, and at some point, he begins a suctioning and pushing motion, sucking out all of your delicious juice before pushing his tongue full of spit inside, wanting to reach every part of you. He uses a finger to push it even deeper in, then two, scissoring your tight cunt open. Suddenly, his fingers meet a sort of resistance, and he comes up for a breath and a confirmation. You only coyly smile.

Your hymen, your hymen is still intact. That guy hadn't defiled you before he could. He is so happy, he kisses your mound in reverence. The both of you will take all of each other's firsts, every single thing. Keigo grinds his tongue on your clit and becomes gentler at fingering you, just swishing around his globs of spit inside your pussy. You keen as his mouth gets hungrier and he keeps flicking your clit like a light switch with his thumb. Sneakily, he would bring his free hand down to swipe and gather as much of his precum as possible and bring it up to push into your pussy, pressing it all inside together with his spit. It's as though he wishes to fill you up as much as possible, and this was the pre-stuffing. Then, using his lubed-up thumb, he teases your anus, hooking it inside when you're distracted and before you know it, he's got at least a finger in both of your holes.

You didn't expect to get so much joy from punishing your beloved brother like this. His desperate marking of his territory makes you wonder if you had pushed him too much, but your rational and empathetic mind blinks in and out of consciousness as the waves of stimulation assault your clit. You've spent so many nights alone on your bed, trying to finger yourself to completion but never could. He ruined you for simple pleasures, and you'll be damned if you don't make him take responsibility now.

Your pussy is drenched in fluid, so much so that when you start squirting, even Keigo doesn't comprehend at first. As soon as he does, he latches his mouth on your pussy and doesn't let go until the sweet fountain stops sputtering, and you have to weakly push him away from oversensitivity. But he has two hands, so one is still prying your tight butthole open while the other is gently slapping your pussy, making dirty plap, plap, plap sounds, trying to coax more of your juices out.

Reluctantly, he pulls away completely once he is sure nothing more can come out and your thighs clamped around his fingers. "My girl squirts," he incoherently comments, blissed out, intent on diving back for another taste before you push him away, moaning for him to wait.

You gasp in between bouts of clarity, coming down from your high. He obeys, leaning back to sit on his heels and wiping his mouth, then licks each of his fingers clean. In the corner of your eyes, you see him peer into his wet boxers, cheeks flushed red to the tip of his ears because he came from eating you out and had no idea.

Everything feels so clear now. What even held him back for that long? He's almost proud of his self-control before he remembers without it, things could have been so much simpler. Or at least, with more of it, he could have really kept his tainted claws off of you.

A hand tugging his soiled garment down reorients him to the present again, and he takes everything off. Oh well, can't put spilt milk back in the bottle, all you can do is lick it clean from the counter. He's the only one completely naked now, while your nightgown was only pushed up past your nipples.

Shallow breaths mingle with your quick pants when he crawls up to hug you. His arms snake around your torso and his head settles in the crook of your neck, kissing up your jaw. Eyes half-lidded, barely lucid from having just acted out part of his most depraved fantasy.

"Keigo-nii, tell me," you whisper comfortingly while both of your hands lovingly run through his hair like how a good mother might, "how does it feel to see me go out with someone else?"

At your words, his body tenses up, snapping him back to reality. His arms get tighter around you as if afraid you'd slip away the moment he releases. The poor man hesitantly pulls back to meet your eyes, his own starting to get glassy again. You are being serious, looking for a real answer, but he could hardly tell apart the pain of recalling that blurry image and the pain of your knees gently gliding over his neglected cock.

"It hurts, like—" He sucks in a breath when you interrupt by hooking your legs around his hips and forcefully pulling him up, lining the red, weepy tip straight on top of your cunt. The vulgar sight of having his penis so close to his baby darling sister's pussy forces more wispy white sperm prematurely out of him. Years and years of pent-up cum reserved only for you proves to be of benefit, you don't even need lube.

"Like what?" Being the lewd sister you are, you torture him with agonizingly slow drags of your wet cunt against his cock, never quite letting him feel enough for his pleasure. "Like—like, like I died, like you got stolen from me, I wanted to kill him," he stutters through his answer because all of his blood has already run to his other head.

You smile a dangerous smile that has sweat dripping down his back. Your right hand stops stroking his hair to reach down for his cock, and your left one pulls his right out from underneath you to link them together. It's as if you are slow dancing with each other, only that it's on a bed and he's on top of you.

Delicate fingers line up a brute cock to your pussy that is dripping honey like a river. The head catches on your opening, and Keigo has to fight every demon in him that is screaming at him to slam forward. Only once you tug lightly on it does he dare move. Gently, gently, until it meets resistance. He squeezes your hand for support, as if this would hurt him as much as it would you, and commences the act of true incest. Fucking his sister, his blood sister, worse, taking her virginity, worse still, doing so without a condom. But at this stage, that may be the very least of his concerns.

You dutifully accept every single veiny inch he gives you into your awaiting heat. The wet, sopping noise of a meat rod being inserted into a runny pussy has both of you throw your heads back. It hurts and burns because Keigo is just that damn big, but you could hardly care about that when it's filling the hole in your heart that you've always felt was missing. Your angelic giggle causes Keigo to become even more blissed out as he sheaths himself inside you. With over an inch left out, his tip presses a kiss to your sacred womb as if greeting its lover coming home.

When he manages to catch his breath and refocuses his eyes, your tears are the first thing he sees and he almost panics. Keigo bends down to kiss them away, but in the process stirs his cock inside of your pussy and hits a spongy spot that had clear liquid spray out of you. You keen loudly, gripping his hand so hard it leaves four little crescent moons on the back of it. He leans down to offer you his entire neck and shoulder, so you bite down at their juncture.

"You took it," you mumble, and he nods. Your insides suddenly feel a bit wetter, and it's not your fault. Whatever guilt he has in his body about his depraved feelings for you must have been exorcised already because Keigo only feels proud to hear those words. His heart is positively thrumming in his chest, a reaction he might constantly have when he's around you from now on.

In the minute that everything stills to let you adjust, the storm has worsened to the point that every few minutes, lightning strikes. Unsurprisingly, your copulation renders the both of you deaf and blind to anything that isn't each other. But your next question, while he's seated deep inside you, had Keigo go frigid like he's been electrocuted by a bolt from outside, and the suffocating guilt returned tenfold.

"Did you ever think about how much it hurt when the first girl you married wasn't me?"

Wide-eyed, gaping mouth. He reminds you of that one famous expressionist painting from the past, something about a scream. You would have taken a picture if he wasn't balls deep inside you right now.

It really tells you all you want to know. Poor, dumb brother of yours, thankfully you're just as dumb to be able to tolerate him. Despite having perfect control over every muscle in his body, when he's around you, all his training is really for naught. That's where you and he differs, you're a professional, see? Your awards aren't just for show, after all. Of course he has no idea your angelic smiles were all a trap.

Predictably, his recently patched dam breaks open again, more violently this time. "I–I, hic–I'm sorry! I'm sorry, agh! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" He sobs like a pitiful boy. It would disturb people to their core if they saw such a scene, the former number two hero deep inside his little sibling, crying uncontrollably on top of her while she cockwarms him.

"Hey, nii-chan," you lean up and rub your cheek against his tenderly but with no intention of comforting him, "maybe I should go marry a random guy too. Have his kids, try and forget about you?"

Trembles wrack through his body, and the bed shakes as though there is an earthquake. "NO, please! No, I can't handle that—I love you too much, I would die!" And you have no doubt it's the truth. Your brother can try and hide his sick thoughts as much as he wants, but you know him more than anyone, even more than himself. Now you shall serve up pleasure, to weaken the blow and reel him back in. You buck your hips upwards and his dick somehow presses in a bit more snug, another half an inch inside. It makes him go cross-eyed despite the emotional assault he's experiencing.

Then your hips pull back and leave only the tip in now. Poor, delirious Keigo made the mistake of looking down and was greeted with the sight of pink substances covering his dick. It takes him a second, but he realize that is your blood mixed with precum, and it dawns on him that your womb is right there.

"I'm glad you understand, Kei-nii," you shake his hand and he looks away from the heavenly sight to look you in the eyes, "I forgive you."

Three words that grant him more relief and hope than a cupboard of whiskey could. Finally, he feels able to smile again. After months of not using the muscles, it came out a bit lopsided and toothy, but you don't mind.

"Now, Keigo-nii, won't you carry out your duty as my big brother?" Oh, you didn't have to ask. He's already pushing his dick back into your cunt with more excitement than a hound in rut. Then, once he was sure you could handle the two pumps, he immediately set a brutal rhythm of jackhammering in your pussy. His free hand slips out from cradling you to play with your clit that's now engorged from so much stimulation. He times his flick with his thrust, occasionally delivering his finger to his mouth so he can still taste you while fucking you.

With his size, he had no trouble finding that sweet spot in your walls and abusing it to his benefit, making your pussy continuously leak clear liquid out in spurts. Fuck, his sister's pussy is too erotic, too fucking sexy for him to last much longer. How he wishes for the day when you sit on his face to come soon.

Your toes curl and your gaspy moans bounce off the four walls, encasing him in a bubble of the sweetest song. He can't help but look down to admire your squelching pussy that makes the nastiest noise each time he pulls out. As if it is pleading with him not to go. Suddenly, he notices the most breathtaking sight. Each time he thrusts in deep, he can see your stomach slightly form a little pouch in the shape of his cock. It's right below where your cervix is.

His previous dark thoughts come back to mind. Letting go of your hand for the first time since you started, Keigo lets it trace your figure, from your bunched-up gown down to your perky breasts that he has to neglect for now, down to your waist where your insides are currently being violated and onto your stomach, catching that little pouch every time it forms. He cups it in his hand, then splays his fingers out above the expanse of where your womb should be.

"I need to have it," he drunkenly says out loud, a bit of craze tinting his eyes. His thrust starts to become heavier, more deliberate, with intent.

"Huh, nii-chan?" With your orgasm rapidly approaching, it's a miracle you caught his delirious talk, partly due to the slight shift in pressure of his drags. But then he catches your mouth open, and splooch! A fat glob of saliva was spit straight inside, on instinct you swallow it. A second after you comprehend what just happened, your lower mouth reacts first by spraying the meanest stream of squirt all over his chest, bathing Keigo in your holy fluids. It's a good thing you drink lots of water, you're pretty sure you'd be dehydrated at this point from the kind of sexual reaction he keeps pulling from your body otherwise. Your orgasm crashes onto you in waves, making you twitch and your pussy try to suck his dick in further.

With great effort, Keigo fucks you through your high and taking advantage of your state, he grinds in as deep as he possibly could, and the last half an inch manages to bully in as well. Tip of his cock against the very opening of your womb, he finally cums ropes after ropes, semen coating your inside and pushing through the tiny hole. He distracts you with a clashing of tongue and teeth, praising you for being a good wife. Even though his entire body is on fire, he doesn't forget to keep toying with your little button as he rides you through your high.

A minute passes by, and your cloudy eyes finally clear. Did you black out for a moment? Is that what they mean by "the little death"? It's almost scary how good it feels, you want to have Keigo giving you one every night. You try to catch your breath and realize he's latching onto your mouth. Kissing him back with as much vigor as you could muster because your body is nearly limp at this point, you don't question why he's still buried to the hilt inside you.

But another 5 minutes of French kissing pass and your pussy is starting to feel tingly again, so you try to pull away. Surprisingly, your lover doesn't let you. He instead chases after your pussy to stay inside, at which point you break the kiss to ask why.

"I need you to have my baby, I'm keeping it plugged until I recover," he explains as if it's the most natural thing in the world. And it suddenly hits you that in your inexperience, you've completely forgotten about the possibility of getting pregnant. Why, it may cause a huge scandal and that other poor guy would probably become the biggest suspect in the public eye. Your career may be halted, or worse, destroyed. The millions of delusional fans you have may skin you.

But all of that seems like such a footnote in comparison to the implications of what Keigo has just said.

"Are you… trying to breed me, nii-chan?" Fuck, such a hot mouth saying things that feed his dick all the energy it needs for the second round. "Yeah, I need to have you completely tonight, I can't make the same mistake twice. I love you too much," he pauses and then adds, "baby sis."

Before, that was a reminder to himself that he can't ever have you. Now, the meaning has been thoroughly corrupted. Only he can have you. Big brother's rights.

Your pussy throbs around his thumb, which replaces his cock when he suddenly pulls out, and in one smooth motion, he flips you on your stomach and rips your nightgown off of you completely. You're both naked now, and the shift in his demeanor tells you your previous control over him has diminished. Fly too close to the sun, and now your poor brother is traumatized. You have a feeling your words won't stop whatever he's gotten into his head at this state.

Keigo kisses your shoulder blade and down your spine, a hand caressing your tits until finally stopping in between your butt cheeks, which he spreads open. His mouth comes down not long after, biting into the flesh of your ass, but his real goal is the other unclaimed hole he also needs to plug up before you're allowed to rest. Semen sloshes around in your womb, and some try to leak out, which is immediately pushed back in by his thick thumb. That one digit is as wide as three of your fingers pinched together and for now it works, but Keigo reminds himself to buy a proper plug soon.

He continues to apply soft pressure on your oversensitive clit to get you ready again with the hand plugging your pussy, while the other begins penetrating your anus. The rings of muscles there are much tighter, signalling to his salivating mouth how it should be of use. You squeal in protest when it registers that your back hole is about to be broken into, because you never expected for your anal virginity to get taken within the same day. You try to jerk away, but your body is exhausted from the brutal breeding you've just endured, and your brother is pinning your legs down with his own, rendering your struggles useless.

"Wait! Nii-chan, another day, s'too much…" Your objection is met with placating shushes and kisses to your rim. Keigo's tongue darts out to swipe at your anus and he groans, red cock head angrily leaking again. It bulges and hardens in great anticipation.

"I'm sorry, baby, I can't. It'll be good, I promise," and whether or not it's true, you think you'll forgive him anyways because his uncontrollable possessiveness is getting your pussy to cry. His index and thumb pry your butthole far enough apart for him to let a steady stream of spit run into it, preparing you for your second violation. Then, when he decides enough lube is present, his tongue enters the entrance, blocking anything from exiting. It feels so foreign, you've never played with that part of yourself before. Then, writhing like an eel, it begins molesting your insides with scary enthusiasm. All the while, Keigo is still fingering your cunt and abusing your nerve bundles, pressing that spongy spot inside that tangles the wires in your brain to also enjoy your anus being used.

The pressure builds again, your third orgasm quickly creeps up on you. After two rounds of playing with your body, Keigo has memorized all the telltale signs of your body reaching a climax, and he pushes his tongue in even deeper. As deep as he could, teeth catching on your flesh. Your knees bend and toes curl, you let out a gurgling whine when you come, squeezing around his fingers and tongue and perhaps soul as well. This time your orgasm is clean and dry, maybe your body has run out of liquid finally.

Once more, you two try to catch your breath. Keigo takes his face away and lays it on your butt cheeks, basking in the messiness of your lovemaking. Is this lovemaking? How much more love can he make when it's already bursting at the seams, threatening to give him a heart attack at the ripe old age of 24. Nevertheless, he is nowhere near as patient as you and crawls up to nip at your neck, coaxing you back to awareness sooner. Your hair is sticking to your cheek from your sweat, which he dutifully brushes away like a good husband would and runs his tongue across to collect the liquid, only making it damper in the process. You blearily blink open your eyes, that previous orgasm is intense in a different way, but you don't know if it's from getting your anus eaten out or if your orgasms intensify the more you have them.

No matter, as soon as you're conscious again, Keigo's penis, in all of its rock-hard glory, is at the back entrance. From above, he presses his left hand on top of yours, threading them together, and his right forearm lands above your head, trapping you into his cage. Your hips stuck up slightly, allowing him the perfect angle to press ahead and penetrate your slightly more accepting ass. It's still painfully tight, squeezing him so hard he thinks his dick might just snap off. Your cries to stop only make him more encouraged, his cock jumps when you wiggle your butt.

It hurts a lot more than being fucked in the pussy. That place was built for such a thing, and you didn't think your virgin brother would even last past the first round, at least that's what you hear happened to most boys. It seems underestimating his love and lust for you is a terrible idea, and now you're the one who has to take responsibility for your actions. But the feeling is so foreign, so weird, you can't decide if you like it because you have no idea your colon is able to stretch so far, and your main centers of pleasure aren't getting toyed with. However, having your big brother hovering atop you, panting like a horny hound, gripping your hand so tightly and shedding a few overwhelmed tears makes you feel satisfied as well.

Slowly, Keigo starts moving. He laughs breathlessly in a dazed manner and whispers to no one in particular, "I took it, I have it, it's mine," over and over again. Drunk from your anus, drunk from your pussy, now if he could mark you inside and out with his cum, he'd finally feel at peace. It's subtle, but after the pain subsides, you begin enjoying having your brother's dick stirring up your colon almost as much as having it breed your pussy. For every thrust, he kisses your ear, your shoulder, your cheek to apologize for what he's putting you through.

Then it begins to feel really good, perhaps there is also a magic button inside your butt that makes things feel good. Maybe Keigo is just that compatible with you, able to draw out your magic spots without even trying. Your cries turn into moans, and soon pleas for him to go faster, go deeper, which he of course obeys. It's scary how just ten minutes ago, you were wailing and trying to escape, when right now you're meeting his thrusts and begging for his cock like a slut. But you're no slut, just the most perfect little sister in the world.

In and out, cum from your pussy unfortunately leaks out without anything to stop it. More concerningly, however, you feel a strange, different sort of pressure building inside you in addition to your usual orgasm tells. It isn't like when you squirt, instead it feels a bit hotter, more urgent. Your free hand limply reaches down to touch your clit and try to figure out what's going on.

Keigo's eyes are shut tight, forcing himself to focus on your moans and your moans only; hence, why he didn't catch you touching what's his. He is still worshipping your neck in hickeys and bites that may or may not be forming to spell his initials.

"Baby, cum for me," he rasps, and as fast as lightning, his left hand releases the death grip it had on yours to fly down, catching your fingers and guiding it to play with yourself. You realize too late that his dick is knocking on your bladder with every deep stroke. As his large hand teaches you the rhythm of his strokes, your eyes shoot open when a terrifyingly familiar sensation starts up. It was just a spurt at first, but it was enough for you to figure it out.

"Wait! No! I'm peeing!" Your panic juxtaposes the sick bliss apparent on Keigo's face. If you see it, you might finally understand how deep and sick his fixation is, because the thought of fucking his little girl so hard she runs of squirt and has to pee instead have him seeing stars. He can count them if he keeps his eyes closed, it was so vivid. But they remain open to peer down to where he's humping into your ass like a rabbit.

Clear as day, you piss yourself on the bed. It's a stronger, hotter stream that flows continually and runs down your thighs instead of spraying everywhere when you squirt. He can't figure out which one he likes seeing more. Ignoring your protests, he forces your hand to reach further down and disrupt the stream. It soaks into his already pruney fingers, and he cums inside your waiting ass.

It is mortifying. You haven't peed yourself since you were 5. Why you are now is beyond your wildest guess, and it is embarrassing to admit that orgasm is the best you've had so far. It shames you and elevates you at the same time. You can't stop your sniffles when Keigo pulls out mid-ejaculation to shove his rod inside your pussy again, as if to share his loads with the hole. Your anus winks and puckers, pushing out his semen involuntarily. He has to put two fingers in to stop it again.

Your uterus feels bloated. The copious amount of cum and slick sloshing around in there is trapped, unable to get out. When you come to, Keigo is now underneath you, but you're lying on him chest to chest. You blink your hazy eyes clear and see him licking your hand that was previously drenched in your pee clean. His cock is still inside, pumping more semen out every now and then. If he had more hands, he would like to be stroking your hair and wings too.

But you feel no regret, truly. Your old brother is gone now, replaced by the real, guiltless sisterfucker that he actually is. He's finally truthful to his feelings, breaking himself open as much as he broke you. His unabashed grin when you catch him putting each one of your fingers inside and sucking tells you as much. Though you can hardly feel your limbs, you try your best to motion for a kiss, to which he obliges. Before he can give you what you want, you whisper against his lips.

Your kiss is salty from the tears.

"I love you."

━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━

#tw.incest #tw.dubcon #tw.piss #takami keigo x reader

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beautifulpaprika · 11 months ago

Text

The Island Castle; Jungkook

pairing: queen!f!reader x life-keeper?!jk

summary: The castle on the small island behind yours has been sitting there since before you were born, but you've never known what was in it. Everyone tells you there are monsters, but you have yet to see any. When you set out to uncover that mystery you find someone who explains everything and makes you feel everything.

warnings!: shower sex, unprotected, a storm!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: Someone else edited this picture! I got it from here (Pinterest)! On with the story!

“Your majesty?” Alana’s voice calls behind me. I turn to her, tea in hand.

“Alana, I thought I told you mornings are for staring and relaxing time,” I chuckle, looking back across the small body of water to the multi-storied castle sitting on a small island, only slightly different than our Castle Maine.

“YourMajesty,” she sighs, “you need to erase that castle from your mind, focus on the people who are focused on you,” she advises while taking a seat next to me.

“I am a face for the people, it’s not as if I actually do anything in government, we both know that. I bet the people don’t even know about it.” The castle, Castle Island as I like to call it, was hidden behind our own castle, Castle Maine as I like to call it, with such tall walls of rock and waterfalls here and there. The cove was beautiful but it held too much mystery. My advisers, my parents (may they rest in peace), the servants- they all ask me “Why are you so curious about that place and what’s in it?” and the answer is simple: because I was told not to be curious about it.

It had been there before I was born, and all I’ve been wanting is to see what’s inside.

“Sometimes it’s better for Queens to keep their secrets,” Alana pulls me out of my thoughts.

“I know I’ve asked you many times Alana,” I look into her starting-to-wrinkle face, “but are you sure you know nothing of what’s in there?” I gesture to the silent castle with my teacup.

“No, your majesty. When I started to work here I was told many stories of ghouls and ghosts. Even a man-eating man,” she shivers. “It’s best not to wonder, otherwise, you’ll get a headache.”

“Sounds like you know from experience,” I tell her, going back to looking at the castle. There’s a terrace on the front, but not a soul comes out onto it. No royalty, no servant, nothing.

“We need to get you ready soon,” Alana pushes her chair back in standing, “Suitors are waiting,” she squeals. I roll my eyes.

I need to know what’s in the castle across the waters before I’ marry another royal who thinks they can stop me from going.

***

When I was six, I discovered a boat along the coast of Castle Maine, however, when I dragged my nannies to the same spot, they said they could not see any boat.

It was disappointing and made me believe I was losing my sanity for a few months, but I kept seeing this boat. Even now. There is no evidence to suggest that it was not meant for me to explore with.

So, tonight I’m finally taking the small row boat across the waters. There was always a voice that said I should wait, but the voice is quiet now, my own invitation to the quiet, golden palace. The only thing lighting the way is the moon when I hop into the boat, paddling my way across.

“This is a lot tougher than I thought,” I murmur, my muscles aching from the strength going into moving. I look back at Castle Maine, the lights littering different parts, then I look forward to Castle Island.

Complete darkness. The air feels cold, the sound of something splashing off to my right. Maybe it’s best if I turn around. Back to light. Back to humans and not ghouls, ghosts, or man-eating men.

Then I think about the men waiting for me on Castle Maine. The suitors who want to take over the kingdom. Lord Alloy has been especially annoying today. There’s no fun in going back to it.

I realize I am already halfway out into the waters and that turning back would make me a failure.

“My best advice? Something you should never do as queen? Never. Go. To that island,” my mother’s face haunts me. It’s pathetic of me to go against her dying wishes, but I keep rowing. Castle Island is much bigger from the shore than from the high balcony in my bedroom. Now I can see that it most likely has not been cleaned in decades, the walls are painted in water mold.

I reach the shore, grabbing the lantern from the boat, not shining it yet so as not to alert anyone. There are steps leading up to the door, inviting me in.

Adrenaline pumps through me, and it’s enough to keep me going. The door’s creak is louder than any thought passing through my brain. I’m greeted with darkness and the sounds of floorboards creaking. My lantern moves from left to right, shining onto trinkets and wall decorations. Paintings litter the walls framed in gold. The place does not look so abandoned from the inside.

A skittering noise whips my head to stare down the end of the seemingly endless hall.

Just a rat.

“Calm down,” I whisper to my heart, “It’s only a small rodent. It won’t hurt us,” I laugh to myself.

“Unless you hurt it,” a voice whispers behind me.

I scream, whipping around in a panic. My panic doesn’t rest when I see there’s no one there. The words were right in my ear, how is it possible that there is no one there?

Footsteps to my left. I flash the spot. There is no one there.

Footsteps to my right. I flash that spot. Nothing.

“Come inside,” the voice whispers from above and fades ahead.

My breathing picks up, but I don’t want to leave without answers.

“Come on,” the voice is deep but playful. There’s a slight shadow moving with me, then ahead of me. I flash light on it, watching a vine with flowers spiral ahead, showing me the path. “I’m waiting for you, your majesty,” the voice whispers. I run after the vine as it grows faster. I wind through halls and large rooms, not paying attention to any of it.

The vine stops in an open, what looks to be, ballroom.

“Welcome!” the same voice yells out. It’s dark for a moment longer, then candles and torches light the entire room.

I gasp at the flowers growing up the sides and consuming the ceiling, the moonlight shining through the large windows. There is gold holding flames, speckled on the ground, and on the curtains on the stage where a man sits on the edge.

“Hi,” he grins, like a predator to his prey. I can’t bring myself to say anything to him. He’s ethereal. He’s what they would describe angels to look like. His white, long hair matches the white I can spot in his eyes despite standing 30 feet away. He’s got a boyish grin on his face, piercings in his ears, and clothes that are also white. If it weren’t for the unnatural colored eyes and hair, he would look like any person I would see in the streets.

“Who are you?” I ask. I realize it’s rude to greet him that way and immediately apologize, “I’ve been staring into this castle for years and I’ve never seen you.”

He shrugs it off and hops down from the stage.

“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough,” he suggests. It’s a suggestion that irritates me considering I’ve been looking plenty hard enough. “Funny, that you’re asking the questions when you’ve broken into my home,” he moves to one of the flower walls, caressing the petals of a pink one.

“Yes, I apologize,” my eyes fall to the floor in embarrassment. It was foolish of me to think no one lived here. “This castle has been dormant ever since I was born. There have been no boats coming or going from this place, and you’re hidden in a cove behind my own castle,” I try explaining. However, he rolls his eyes at all of it. It’s clear the explanation was not worth it.

“You don’t truly think that story is going to work on me, do you?” he asks.

Confusion sets in and my eyebrows pinch together. “It’s not a story, it’s the truth.” He laughs at my words, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so insulted.

“You’re the queen, and allegedly no one has told you a single story about me?” he laughs again. “That’s very believable, your majesty, but I’m not an idiot,” he plucks the flower off of the vine and crushes it between his fingers. “What’s the real reason you’re here?'' His steps are heavy as he approaches me. I don’t dare to move from the spot. His face hovers over mine and I can't help the gulp.

“I’m telling the truth,” I say again, looking into his eyes. “I’ve never seen or heard of you.”

The ballroom is silent for a few moments, his eyes narrow.

“Are you-” I hesitate, “Are you the man-eating man?” I whisper. He blinks then scoffs, before a laugh escapes him.

“So nothing then?” his body is still so close to mine and it’s becoming difficult to breathe. “Let me explain it then,” he moves to the stage. The plants on the wall crawl over to the stage and I gasp when one wraps around my middle, pulling me to him.

“What the-” his arms wrap around my middle, pulling me closer to him. My mouth closes, afraid to breathe into his mouth.

“Pay close attention, Your Majesty,” my heart pace picks up as I follow his eyes to the plants on the stage. “And listen closely.”

They form a shape that looks like a king on a throne and the other figure that represents the man standing next to me.

“More than a century ago, I was invited to Castle Maine-”

I flinch. How does he know I call it “Castle Maine”? And a century ago? How is that possible?

“I was invited there on the premise of needing help with the crops and the nature of the kingdom,” the plants change to the king kneeling before him rather than the other way around. “They were desperate,” he turns to me, “I should’ve left them to die,” the smile wipes from his face now.

The image changes to him raising his hands over the ground, crops rising up.

“But I was put on this earth to sustain life, and that’s what I did,” as he talks, more and more questions appear in my head. “The king was, as expected, very grateful,” the scene changes back to the throne room, the king bowing his head slightly. Then a vine wraps around the white-haired man’s middle, pulling him back and out of frame.

“He wanted more,” his fingers squeeze into my side, “But the oh-so wonderful-king justified his actions to his kingdom,” the Castle Island appears in forms of many flowers and vines, “‘The ‘Life-Keeper’ has been gifted a large castle where he wants to reside until we need his assistance again,’ are the words he used in his speech. That witch he was married to put a spell on this castle, trapping me in it forever. The royals would be the only ones who could

Take me off of the island when they needed something,” his eyes lock onto the scene of him on his knees, wrapped in rope and vines.

“You couldn’t escape when you got off the island?” I ask.

“They realized that too,” he laughs. “Ever since I’ve been trapped here, I’ve never been taken out for fear of killing everything they had instead, or spreading the truth that the royal family are selfish and greedy!” he looks straight into my eyes when he says it.

The vines release me, and I don’t feel any lighter from the information just fed to me.

Memories of my parents who have told me time and time again not to go or even wonder about the castle. Meanwhile, we’ve been holding the gatekeeper of life hostage.

“There’s a reason there’s so much life around your castle,” he tells me, I think of the cove and beyond and how full of life it is compared to other kingdoms. “I can’t hold all of it inside me. So if I go, all of it does too,” he reveals. A gasp leaves my mouth at the thought of losing all of it. How would I explain to the people that the reason they aren't starving has just left.

“Why would you tell me this? I thought you wanted to escape.”

“I’ll never do what your family did to me,” he looks away now to the flowers crumbled on the stage floor.

“I have to think,” I rush out. Castle Island has become a suffocating space and I can’t form my questions properly. “I need to return. Everyone will wonder where I am,” I make my way to the exit and he doesn’t stop me. Surprise enters my body but he did say that he would not do to me what my family has done to him, i.e. taking someone hostage.

“Do you know the way out?” he calls. I pause in my tracks because, no, I can’t recall a single room that I saw on the way here.

He sighs behind me, a vine leading out of the door.

I look back to him before I leave and say, “I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.” His eyes narrow, skeptical. “Who will I be visiting when I return?”

“Jungkook,” he tells me his name.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” and bow to him, a flash of surprise painting his face.

I follow the vine back home.

***

Lord Alloy has invited me to a picnic on the shore in the back of the castle. The same shore that faces Castle Island. I had initially wanted to skip it, but the idea of possibly seeing Jungkook somewhere lurking excites me.

The sand gets all over my dress as we sit down together. He pulls out a basket, slowly revealing all the food he packed.

My eyes wander to the quiet castle across the water.

“I’m sure you know why I’ve invited you to be here,” he says, pouring two glasses of wine, setting one next to me. I try not to roll my eyes at the tone as if he has control over me.

“I can guess,” I say, a smile plastering my face.

“Now,” he takes a sip, “I am aware there are many suitors at your beck and call ready to take the throne beside you,” I want to scoff again at his choice of words ‘take the throne’. No one will be taking it from me, I’ll be granting them access.

But . . . semantics.

“I know you’re considering many options,” I’m not, “and I wanted to meet with you, hoping you might consider me as one of your top options,” he takes another sip. “There are quite a few benefits if you and I were to unite. . .” he rambles on, but my ears are already tuning out when I spot a moving figure in the second story window of Castle Island.

A curtain moves in the window beside it and a white head pops out, watching. If I hadn’t known now what to look for, I would’ve never seen Jungkook snooping.

I don’t know what comes over me when my posture instantly corrects, my eyes relaxing to fluttering lashes, and the tense feeling in my shoulders washing away to relaxation. I’d have never thought of the possibility of him watching me, but now his gaze is all I can feel despite him being so far.

“Financially, I don’t believe there’s anything to worry about- eh. Your majesty?” Lord Alloy’s voice calls me back to attention.

“Forgive me, Lord Alloy, but I think there will have to be more than financial stability to convince me of marriage,” my eyes stay on Castle Island. Jungkook shows his full figure now through the window.

Is it odd that I feel safer knowing he’s watching me while I’m in this meeting. I certainly trust him more than I trust Alloy.

***

Despite my muscles aching from rowing the night before, I keep my promise to go visit Jungkook.

I’ve gone over a script more times than I can count throughout the day, preparing myself for any answers. I wanted to find the truth yesterday and I received about half. Now my curiosity is hungry for more.

Alana has been noticing something strange the past 24 hours asking, “You haven’t drank your tea. Do you have a headache? A stomachache?” when I told her “no” she gave me a strange look.

I know she’s suspicious of me now but that isn’t stopping me either.

I feel giddy when there’s a vine that sprouts from the ground when I arrive. I bring my lantern and the bag of food I brought with me out of the boat and inside the beige palace.

It takes me left, right, left to a room that simply takes my breath away. A large swimming pool sits in the middle, while flower walls climb up the sides to a glass ceiling where I can spot almost every star. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I jump at the whisper in my ear. I turn to face Jungkook whose head is tilted. “You’re obviously going to bombard me with questions today. It would be kind of me for us to at least have a chat in a comfortable place rather than sitting on the ballroom floor.”

I’m already put off by the fact he knows I’ve come to mainly interrogate him.

“What’s this?” he points to the bag.

“Oh!” I set the bag on a table near me framed in gold, “I’ve come to the conclusion that because you have been trapped here in this castle with no one coming in or out,” I start to pull out pastries, fruit, and cheese from the bag, “you must have not tasted food in ages.”

He scoffs.

“Your majesty, I have no need for food. I’m a gatekeeper of life. I can also grow food,” he explains. Humiliation rises in me for not thinking of that, my cheeks burn, most likely causing a deep red. He sees this and his smile slowly drops. “But I appreciate the gesture,” he grabs a piece of cheese, biting into it with fervor.

I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Cheese isn’t grown,” he defends. I snort a bit, then quickly cover my mouth.

He drops it onto the table, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to offend you-”

“Enough,” he puts his hand in my face and I yank it down.

“I’m a Queen, sir! And a lady nonetheless! Your hand in my face will do you no favors,” I tell him. “There are many things I can tolerate, but I’ve been trying to show kindness, so I beg of you- no hands in my face,” he only blinks at my words then laughs.

“I like you, Queen! You’ve got a bit of spunk I haven’t seen in the royal family in quite a bit. Granted, not many have ever visited me, but you’re refreshing.” He doesn’t know how much his words affect me. To be compared to the other members but as a compliment has not been something I’ve experienced much.

“I saw you,” he munches on more cheese, “today with that man on the shore,” his tongue pokes his cheek before taking another piece. “Who was he?” he doesn’t make eye contact as he grills me. It pushes me to wonder why he wants to know.

“That was one of my so-called ‘suitors’, the name is ironic seeing as he doesn’t suit me very much,” I tell him. His eyes glide to me from underneath his eyelashes, scanning my body, then focusing back on the foods I’ve brought.

“Are you going to marry him?”

“No. He’s never caught my interest. Especially, because he thinks he can take charge so easily if he were to marry me. While it would have been nice to humble him, marriage is a bit too permanent,” I explain. The plate of cheese is gone before I know it.

Jungkook seems . . . relieved? His shoulders are a lot less tense than before, and that smirk from yesterday paints his face yet again.

He turns to the pool and starts to slip his shirt off.

I panic and turn away from him.

“A warning would have been nice!” I yell out, still turning away. A deep chuckle escapes him.

“We’re going swimming, what did you expect?”

“I’ve never seen a man shirtless,” I admit. It’s not embarrassing to admit. Everyone around me knows I’ve been sheltered by my parents inside Castle Maine my whole life.

“It won’t kill you. I won’t judge you either,” he says, before I hear a big splash! Sprinkles of water fall onto my arm, making me gasp. I turn back around to see Jungkook swimming away under the water. He swims to one side, comes up for air, then swims back, and comes back up, his arms resting on the side of the pool.

“You want me to ask questions while you’re like this?”

“You could join me,” he suggests, a smirk painting his face.

“In my dress?” I scoff.

“Don’t be silly. Without the dress,” he says it very nonchalantly, but my heart drops into my stomach, the feeling of something new being foreign to me. “You don’t have to act like a queen here. It’s not like I can tell anyone but the plants around me,” he floats backwards. As sad as his words are, they are true.

I debate with myself for a few moments, and eventually feel that it would be nice to swim after the hot summer days we’ve been having. It’s also a way to show this Life-keeper that I’m willing to do what he wants in exchange for more information.

The dress starts to come off. I try to ignore his burning gaze on me. I feel the heat rising through my body, but push it down. It’s only swimming. My undergarments are exposed now when the dress pools at my feet. I throw my shoes off, then look at the waters. The adrenaline pumps through me at the thought of Jungkook watching me and I jump in.

The water consumes me. My arms fling around.

I don’t know how to swim.

How could I forget I don’t know how to swim?

My arms search for solace, but there is none. The air is leaving me.

Finally, a hand grabs my wrist and pulls me up. Air finally reaches my lungs, but there’s still so much water. I cough up water, Jungkook placing a hand on my cheek at the same time.

“Shh,” he soothes me, and I feel clean air filling my body. My arms wrap around his neck.

Life.

“You know you’re supposed to know how to swim before getting in a pool, right?”

“I wasn’t aware,” I tell him with a hint of sarcasm. “I was blinded by the adrenaline. I’d never been swimming before,” I still cling to him like the life line he served for me earlier.

“They really haven’t let you do anything, have they?”

“My job was to be a Queen. Not to compete in the summer olympics,” he laughs at that. I start to relax, my hands still on him, but he floats around easily. “Now you know something about me. I’d like to ask about you now,” he nods, fully expecting this. “You said ‘more than a century ago’ last night. You don’t look older than 25 years.”

“Not even 20 years? I’m insulted,” I give him a look, “I’m the keeper of life, Your Majesty, that includes myself,” it makes sense now that he says it. I suppose gods don’t die, so why would he?

“How old are you truly?”

“It’s rude to ask a lady her age,” he teases. I roll my eyes.

“Fine, next question,” he pulls me closer when he changes directions, and I try not to focus on our hips aligning so well. He could enter me-

“You’re taking a minute to think of that next one,” he says. My mouth opens up, but closes again. It’s hard to focus. I’ve been on several dates with past suitors waiting for their chance to be King, but nothing can compare to what’s happening in my stomach and the thoughts wanting to take over my brain.

“Um, well, you called the castle I live in “Castle Maine”, but as far as I know, I’m the only one who calls it that,” I explain.

“You wrote a letter and sent it here. Do you remember?”

I recall when my mother died and I was about to become queen. When my mother made that dying wish, I tried to give up on Castle Island. I sent a letter apologizing that I had to give up on it.

“‘You’re a dream that I’m not allowed to wish on anymore. Signed, Castle Maine.’ That’s what you wrote,” he says, his voice is low as if the memory is one that hurts him. I watch his eyes avoid mine and my heart sinks.

“Obviously, I lied. I couldn’t get this place out of my head. Did you know they say there are ghouls and ghosts here? A man-eating man?” he laughs at that.

“A natural tactic to keep others out of course,” his eyes come back to land on mine, “and yet here you are.”

“Here I am,” I echo. His eyes fall down to my lips, simultaneously licking his own. My heart picks up speed but not before I bring myself back to why I’m truly here.

“If I were to help you get out, what would happen?” his eyes rise again.

“The life around the kingdom, of course, won’t be flourishing as much as it is now. The cove will not be growing as many flowers. Your castle may fall apart-”

“Wait, what?”

“Castle Maine is rooted down by plants that I’ve grown. It won’t fall all the way apart, but the damages would be unsafe to live in,” he explains. My mind is reeling from even more information. “This castle is one big hold of my power, and it spreads out. Think of it as a tree and its roots are spreading out,” his power and how important he is to the kingdom is prevalent now.

“I see.” Jungkook must notice my uneasiness as he swims to the steps of the pool, setting me down so my feet touch the steps. I climb out, the water falling from my body back into the water. He follows behind me. I reach for my dress, still sitting on the ground.

Jungkook grabs my wrist, stopping me.

“It’s midnight, and that dress looks expensive to be washed with pool water,” a vine creeps into the room holding clothing on a plate - a simple shirt that looks like it will reach down to my knees. I take it with careful moves, imagining the vine trapping me if I make one wrong move. “It’s very late. There’s a storm that might be coming. We have plenty of rooms here in the castle and you can return home in the morning.”

I’m about to reject the offer, but he’s already making an escape. Alana will have to worry about me for a few minutes in the morning.

***

I doubted Jungkook when he said there would be a big storm, but the thunder and lightning are evidence of no lie.

I can’t sleep. Every loud boom! yanks me out of sleep.

I get up, holding my lantern in hand. My mission now is to try and find the kitchen for a glass of water. There is no vine to lead the way this time, but it’s a chance to explore the place. I find a room full of paintings. I explore the canvases, some of them painted over many times.

I continue on, finding other bedrooms, until finally, there’s the kitchen. His is much bigger than mine, but it’s more empty. There are hardly any plates or cups in the cabinet, but if I think about it, there was never a need for him. He was all by himself.

“Can’t sleep?” Jungkook appears behind me.

“The storm really isn’t letting up,” I explain. “I just needed something to do,” I peek into his fridge, filled with lots of fruits and vegetables. He wasn’t joking when he said it’s what he could grow.

“I’m not a big fan of them either. There was a fire here,” my attention is off of the midnight snack now. “Lightning struck and I had to take care of it myself. It wasn’t big by any means, but it makes me paranoid to this day,” he explains.

“I’m sorry.” I’m not sure what else to say to that. There’s a guilt that the king who put him in this eternal loneliness had his blood running through me. I can’t help but feel responsible despite not being alive at the time.

“Nothing you could have done,” he says, but it doesn’t help the sinking feeling. Lightning strikes, and thunder shakes the room, I flinch back and frustration consumes me. Typically, a storm is over after a few minutes, but this is enough to wash a house away.

Then realization hits. The boat!

“I need a path to the exit!” I call out. He calls my name, but I’m already running, following a vine slithering up and down the wall. When I reach the outside, the boat is just barely hanging onto the shore.

It’s my only way back to the castle.

I’m drenched when I reach the shore, the rain making my clothes heavier on me. I step into the water and try lifting the boat, but the water keeps pulling it back.

“Hold on!” Jungkook calls, he joins me on the other side, “On the count of three! Three, two, one!” We both heave the boat onto the shore, the bottom scraping the sand until at least 90% is hitting land.

When it feels secure, we run back up the stairs and inside, our breaths heaving.

“Thank you,” I say, relieved that I thought about it on time. I turn to him, preparing to give gratitude with eye contact but his eyes aren’t focusing on mine, they’re a bit lower to the white shirt that is soaking in water and sticking to my skin.

I would feel completely embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that now my eyes were traveling to the shirt sticking to his skin. A perfect outline of his chest and abdomen peeking out. Saliva almost spills from my mouth, but not before I pick my jaw back up and meet his eyes again. He looks just as embarrassed as I feel.

“I recommend we change clothing,” I tell him. He visibly gulps, causing a wave of nerves to run through me.

“I have a few spares in the bedroom,” he says, a bright smile on his face. I can’t help but to wonder why he didn’t send one of his plants to his room to get it.

Thunder sounds from outside, and I hasten my steps after him. My eyes stay on his back muscles as they move through the halls. If you were to ask me what rooms we were walking through, I wouldn’t know how to respond. My fingers tingle to run them through his pale hair.

Walking into his bedroom is not what I was expecting. Considering he is the only person who lives here, I expected his room to be the biggest and most decorated space. It’s the size of my biggest bathroom in Castle Maine.

“Don’t look too disappointed,” he interrupts my thoughts, chuckling at his dresser where he takes a few pieces of clothing out. “The shower’s right-” he stops, the clothes are immediately placed on his bed and I take a step back when he approaches me quickly. I startle when he grabs my arm. “Where did this come from?”

I look to my arm where a large gash runs down my arm. I hadn’t even felt it, but now there’s blood dripping down to my fingers.

“It must have been from dragging that boat up,” I explain.

He doesn’t say another word, instead dragging me to his bathroom.

“Sit on the counter,” he demands pointing to the wood before crouching to look in his cabinets. His tone is a shot to my core.

“Jungkook, I don’t think-”

“Now,” he interrupts. I blink once. Twice- then move to lift myself onto the counter. It doesn't take long for him to conjure up some bandages and set them beside me. “I’d prefer my queen not be harmed while she’s here,” he whispers, a smirk on his face. I’m shocked that he isn’t calling me ‘Your Majesty’ anymore. ‘My queen’? I like that a lot more.

“So, has your perception changed of the royal family then?”

“Not at all. I still think most have been the most selfish beings to ever walk the planet earth,” he says, dumping water on my wound. I scowl at him. “Chin up. I said ‘most’,” he taps the bottom of my chin.

I try resisting the smile surfacing.

“However, I could be being manipulated by your beauty. It’s easy to fall into you,” he doesn’t even glance up to watch my reaction. In a way, I’m glad he doesn’t, it’s a full face of pure shock. “The shirt doesn’t help,” he expresses.

“Jungkook! Who knew you could be so bold?”

“Have I not always been bold?” his hands are gentle as they slide up and down my arm.

“Jungkook?” I try grabbing his attention again, but he’s still examining my wound.

“The rain water can’t be good for it, we need to get you in the shower,” his voice is low. He said ‘we’? I imagine the water running down his front, his body glistening as he takes care of me. My brain flashes images before I can stop it and there’s a different wetness between my thighs that isn’t a result of rain water.

“Are you going to help me?” I ask. His head doesn’t move, but his eyes do, looking up at me. I suck in air, waiting with bated breath. “Usually there are people in Castle Maine who help me,” I lie. Every rational thought has officially flown out of my mind, the only thought in my head is him in the shower with me.

He scoffs instead.

“And do you want me to think of you as a queen when I help you?” he asks, now his hands are planted on each side of me, palms face-down on the counter as he leans his body in. I shiver when his breath hits my face. There’s an itch on my neck where I want him to place his lips.

I shake my head ‘no’. “I want you to think of me as a woman,” my fingers have a mind of their own when they slowly caress the skin where his shoulder and neck meet, sliding up to the wet tendrils of his hair. His eyes slightly close at the contact, leaning into the touch.

“It’s been a long time since anyone has touched me. I hope you understand that what you’re starting would be very cruel to stop,” he whispers. I can’t bear to think of how long it has been for him without contact with another person, but it’s comforting to know that he might be out of experience just like me.

“I didn’t plan on stopping,” my fingers hide under his hair, massaging his scalp, he leans into it with a moan. When he recovers, his hands slide over my thighs, moving them apart and standing between my legs. A rush of nerves and excitement courses through me as he stands there, his hands roaming, touching, groping. I’ve felt hands on my legs and body before, but not in this manner, not this boldly. The touches before were shy and cautious because I am queen. But Jungkook doesn’t seem to want to waste any more time. It’s as addicting as they say.

“Let’s get ready for your shower, then,” I feel a tug on the shirt still stuck to my skin. His eyes trail down. I feel the heat of his eyes moving up, left, right, down.

I raise my arms up.

“Go ahead,” I say, letting him do it. The cold air is even colder when the shirt is lifted off of me, the water not helping me stay warm by any means. I hear him mumble something when it comes all the way off. My chest is bare and in the open now, my nipples hard when exposed.

He throws the shirt off to the side with a plop somewhere.

“Y/N, if you don’t know this already, you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve laid my eyes on. And I’ve lived a long time,” he leans closer, lips hovering over my neck. I try not to pull him in and come off as needy already. It’s something I want to take more time with.

A peck is what he gives me. Just one on my collarbone, then two, then three.

“Jungkook,” I whine, impatient.

He comes up, meeting my eyes, and drags my legs forward, forcing our hips to meet. I can feel the result of our touches between his legs and curving up to his stomach.

He’s about to say something, but I can’t take anymore of this talking when he’s right in front of me. I take the opportunity, planting my mouth on his, my breasts pressed up against his chest when both of my arms stretch over his shoulders.

He doesn’t respond at first, but it quickly changes, his hands roaming to my butt and pulling me even closer, his hips grinding into me. Finally, some friction. He groans into my mouth.

“I need you, right now,” his hands come off of me, removing his shirt and pants and throwing it the same direction as mine. I try not to faint at his body fully uncovered. Not because I’m horrified, but because he looks just as expected when it comes to how they describe immortals to be built. Perfect.

“You can have me,” I whisper into his mouth, his face already looking as if we’d just finished when we haven’t even begun. When I kiss him again, the heat from his chest spreads onto mine, our skin rubbing against each other.

The same heat is gone when he turns to go turn the shower on. I sit on the counter needy and half-naked. I watch him moving and bending, his muscles contorting when he reaches me again.

He lifts me easily, setting me on the floor. Without warning, he pulls my underwear down, but he doesn’t come back up. Instead, his fingers are gentle on my calves, sliding upwards.

“Jungkook,” I breathe. His nose and lips graze my thighs. It’s hard to concentrate on anything when his face is so close to being in-between my legs.

“Before you leave,” he says, the words vibrating against my thigh, “Grant me at least this one wish,” he pulls me closer. At this point I’ll give him anything he wants. The castle, the throne, me. He lifts my leg over his shoulder. “Let me taste you.”

I don’t get much of a chance to respond before his mouth is already on me and my hands are grabbing onto the edge of the counter for dear life. The shower runs in the background, but I can’t help the moan that releases, overpowering the water.

His tongue moves and sucks. Where? It doesn’t matter when I feel a finger slip in. I’d like to think that I would be warned about what’s going to happen next, but the surprise sends more adrenaline in my veins.

He groans, the vibrations traveling through me. He lifts himself from the ground, dropping my knee. The bottom of his face glistens from his personal feast, he doesn’t say anything, but I feel the warmth from his hand move into my hair, pulling me towards him.

“I want you to taste yourself,” his voice is a whisper. His lips press into mine and I indulge him. The kiss is messy, and it gets even messier when he begins to move us.

I break from him, moving to get on my knees, but he pulls my arms back up, shaking his head.

“What is it?”

“You don’t have to do that. Trust me, if you do, I won’t last very long.”

He turns me around, my butt on his hard-on. The moment is still and silent.

“Jungkook?” I call for him while his nose runs up and down my throat. “Are you okay?” I run my hand through his hair.

“More than okay. I’m trying not to rush this.” Our bodies are sticky with sweat and rain water. I’m able to break away and keep his hand in mine when I get in the shower. The water feels amazing against my skin, but Jungkook feels better. “Don’t leave in the morning,” he pleads, holding my face in both of his hands.

“The thought never crossed my mind,” I tell him against his lips.

I thought it would feel strange to have a man’s naked body against mine, but it’s much more comfortable because it’s with him.

Our mouths mend together for a few more moments before his hands move down. I’m nervous about what he wants, a possible slipping happening. However, when I take the leap and jump to wrap my legs around him, he shows no struggle- the perks of practically being a god.

“I don’t think I can wait much longer, Jungkook,” I whine, my back on the cold wall.

“As you wish, my queen,” I hold onto his shoulders when he separates us. I decide not to watch, looking up when his penis enters me. It’s painful for a moment. The cry in my throat on lockdown for fear of embarrassing myself.

He looks at me, his eyelids hooding those white eyes. I nod, a signal that I’m ready. His movements are slow first.

I notice the vines creeping up the walls and the flowers blossoming. They cover the shower, turning it into a dome of flowers with only the two of us in it.

Our moans and groans mix and echo and bounce off of the walls of plants.

“I don’t know how much longer-” he whines into my neck, grabbing onto my left breast, then sliding down to rub circles on my clit. I feel a buildup in my stomach.

“I won’t last- ah!” I moan. His ministrations and thrusts are getting faster. I can’t stop the wave that crashes into me and I grab onto his hair, scratching my nails down his scalp as he groans onto my collar bone while filling me up.

He sets me down, but we’re in the same position while the shower runs down our skin- the sweat and fluids washing away.

My eyes open and I gasp at the colors on his arms.

“Jungkook!” There are drawing patterns encircling his arm, all the way up to his shoulder where I have to blink twice to make sure I’m looking correctly. His hair is black now, and his eyes are dark. The color in his skin no longer looks flushed and pale.

And the drawings!

“How- What-” I stutter.

“I’ve got some of my life back.”

***

The rain goes on, but the lightning has slowly dialed down since our escapade in the shower.

I can’t stop looking at this new Jungkook. He was always more handsome than anyone I’d ever met, but the new look makes him more handsome than even my wildest dreams can conjure.

I look up at him, tracing my fingers on the black ink running up his arm at the same time he’s rubbing my neck. He looks blissful, on a high.

“I’d like to take you out of this castle,” I propose. His head whips to look at me and his back rubbing stops.

“Say that again?”

I sit up, making sure he can read my lips when I say “I want to take you out of this castle. A royal has to do it, right?” He nods slowly, still skeptical. “I don’t want the kingdom to fall apart, Jungkook, but if I had stayed in this castle by myself for as long as you have?” I shake my head, not wanting to think about it. “I came here looking for an answer, and I found much more than that. And what you do with your freedom is not my business, you don't ever have to see me again,” he raises a hand in the air sitting up.

“That's not going to happen,” he tells me, placing the same hand on my face, a thumb on my cheek.

““I’m saying to keep it in your back pocket. If I were to take you out of here, I wouldn’t want you to feel trapped in another space.”

“We don’t have to,” he proposes. I raise an eyebrow. “If you travel with me, we’ll come back often and I’ll grow the crops for your kingdom, I’ll do anything. Just go with me so I won’t have to be alone again,” the fire shines on his face, helping me scan for any insincerity.

I think on the offer, not wanting to abandon my duties as a queen, but they certainly won’t miss me either.

“You don’t have to say yes, but I would be elated if you did. I'll teach you how to swim, I'll show you things you never thought you could see. You won't be trapped anymore,” he continues. I stare at his newly dark hair and eyes, thinking. I suppose I am more similar to him than I thought.

“And we’ll come back every few days? How?”

“I’m the gate-keeper of life,” he laughs. I laugh with him, falling back onto the mattress.

“I’ll go with you,” I tell him.

“Anywhere?” he asks, laying back down beside me.

“Maybe not back here,” I laugh. He agrees and kisses me on the forehead.

“You think we could trap that Alloy in here?” he whispers, and I laugh before falling into a sleep surrounded by warmth.

#bts #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook bts #jungkook smut

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wayfayrr · 2 years ago

Text

Self-conscious captain

the next self aware link and this time it's the captain my favourite boy, warriors!

[masterlist]

“Hey [Name], I’ve been going through some of my old games to clear things out. I found my copy of Hyrule Warriors and wanted to know if you’d like it?”

“I thought that was one of your favourites though, what’s come into you to give it away like this? Do you want anything for it, I’d feel bad simply taking from you.”

“Nah I got it as a gift anyway, I beat the game and did everything there is to do. Plus I know you’ve been wanting to play it anyway, so please have it.”

There’s something off about this, between how skitterish they’re acting and the fact they’re so willing - that they’re so desperate for me to take their favourite game from them? I’ve got nothing else to go off of though, and they are right I have been planning to buy it. They wouldn’t be offering if they didn’t want me to have it so what is there to lose?

“If you’re sure then. I can’t wait to play through it myself rather than watching you.”

Is there such a thing as too much relief? Because if there is then that was definitely it, with how their shoulders relaxed; all the tension left their body as they handed me the game. Why does this feel like the start of a creepypasta, am I simply gonna go home then suddenly there’s some new version of Ben drowned for me to deal with? I won’t know until I play I guess, but it might be fun.

There’s no better time than now to learn though, I’ve got the whole afternoon to myself anyway so why not? Putting the game into my switch; booting it all up it seems fine, so there’s nothing there that should have messed with them. It’s up until the first cutscene for anything to even show up that could be wrong. Link’s eyes seem to be focusing on me far more than they should during it, more than what should be possible, with more of a smile than he usually does during this too. Then I finally get to the level.

I can’t control Link, the game seems to be frozen, not a single bokoblin moving, Link is still moving, the camera isn’t even focused on him now and he’s moving closer to the screen.

“Honeybee? You’re here! I knew your friend would cave pretty face when I pressed them. It’s so nice to have you here alone with me!”

“...What.”

“Oh it’s all alright dear, I did think you’d be a little shocked at first because, well I mean I know this isn’t something that happens very often. Would you be against getting to know me better though?”

What. The. Hell. No wonder they were so eager to pawn the game off to me, a living character that seems to be obsessed with me? If the roles were switched then I’d be throwing it at them as quickly as I could, I’m amazed they could even keep calm for long enough to hand it to me without seeming any more suspicious than they did, he threatened them he’s already admitted that stop lying to yourself [name]. Why does he even want me over the person who actually played as him? None of this makes any sense.

“I - No I wouldn’t, actually could I ask you some questions too? Just y’know, try to get my head around all of this.”

“I’d be more concerned if you didn’t ask me any, I mean right now? You’re treating me more like an actual person than anyone else ever has.”

“...”

“Where would you like to start then honeybee? We can take this at your pace, you’re in full control here.”

Where should I start? There are so many different things I want answers to, I could stay here for hours just talking to him to find out everything; now that I think on that, it’s not like I have anything else planned today. I could simply just stay here for a bit and talk, it’s probably the safer option too. If I don’t, do I really want to test the sanity of a sentient game character, no.

“Um, if it’s all up to me then. Can I ask when you first became aware? Of the fact that you’re you know, a character in a game.”

“Oh, that? Well, it was about three months ago now, two or so weeks before you played with them. They really just saw me as a toy, not caring if I got hurt or anything, which is fair they never knew I was anything more than that; but you didn’t know either and you treated me like a person. You always apologised whenever I took any damage, never tried to get me hurt for your own pleasure or replace me as soon as you could. It was only a matter of time until I started to want you, then it was fairly easy to get eyes in your phone.”

“You've got ‘eyes in my phone?’ what do you mean by that.”

He looks so pleased right now like he wanted me to ask that exact question, it’s such a smug look on his face too. There’s something else to it as well, I can’t pinpoint what but there is certainly another look on his face. With how emotive he is it really doesn’t feel like this is some kind of sick joke, he’s too alive.

“That’s one of the things I’m most proud of!! It was pretty easy when you linked your phone to their switch to download a photo, I just made part of that connection a bit more personal and permanent. I promise I didn’t listen in on anything too private, I swear on Nintendo that I’m not like Cia. I promise.”

“Moving on from… that then. Why’s the real reason you wanted to be with me like this, I mean I get the feeling there’s more to it than you’re letting on.”

“You caught me I actually wa-”

The scowl that crossed his face when he was interrupted by the doorbell was unlike the cheery demeanour he’s been using, it’s almost like he’s angry or jealous of me having my attention split from him; it barely lasts a second though. Before his face swaps to one of remorse possibly because he got so irritated over something so trivial, that needs my focus more than he does right now.

“I think you already know, but I should go check that. I’ll only be a couple of minutes, it’s probably nothing after all.”

Not even a word, just a nod and a look of rejection as if he was a cat I’d had to move off of me when I turned to go and answer the door. True to my word it wasn’t something that going to take long, simply signing for a couple of parcels. It only took me a few minutes to collect it and then start heading back to my room, I’ll be able to open them while I talk to Link after all. Really it would be cruel to make him wait after everything else he’s been through, even if he’s been monitoring… most of my movements, is it bad that I still feel bad after knowing that?

A shrill yelp followed by a shattering sound right when I was about to go back in wasn’t the best sign, the worst thing is that this time there wasn’t a digital overlay. Did someone break in - or break out? Only one way to find out.

“Honeybee? I - I’m sorry I - I really was trying to keep it in one piece.”

He’s out of the game.

Link is in my room bawling his eyes out because he accidentally broke my LED screen, the hero of hyrule is standing in my bedroom crying his eyes out because he broke a piece of glass. Earlier there was always a feeling of him trying to come off as likeable to me, to the point where it was manipulative, he wouldn’t even consider the idea of me not liking him. Now it’s like he’s having a panic attack at the possibility that I won’t like him because he broke my monitor.

“I - I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Please - just - I - I didn’t mean to break it.”

“Link -”

“My clothes would probably be worth a fortune to someone right? I - I mean it’s an actual set of armour from the Hyrulian forces - it’s real chainmail. If you sell it - it’ll more than make up the cost, right? You won’t hate me if I did that, right?”

“Link. I don’t hate you, it was an accident and even if it wasn’t I would forgive you.”

That seemed to snap him out of it, if only a little; he’s still crying but now he’s not rambling about ways to make it up to me. He clearly seems to want me, even if I still don’t entirely get why so maybe I could; opening my arms proves the fact that he really does just want some affection. Waiting wasn’t even on the cards as he practically dove into my arms barely seconds after looking at me for permission.

“You really don’t hate me then? Really? Even though I’m not as good as the other games?”

“I don’t hate you for wanting to get out of what was essentially your prison or - you being as good as the other games? Your game is different but it’s just as good”

“But - you and your friend both said it. I - I’m not canon. You still treated me well that‘s why I fell for you, but I’m still - I’m still less than the other games. So I just, I really wanted to prove to you that I can be the only one for you [name]”

Stroking his hair seems to be calming him down now, the tears are slowing and his breathing is evening out the longer I stay here with him; only a few more moments until I should be able to get some answers from him. Adjusting to having a roommate might be a little strange, he really does seem nice though, nicer than anyone else I’ve ever met. Wait no I’ve only really just met him, why am I already thinking about that? It’s something to consider for certain - oh come on, just admit to yourself that you love this. He cares so why not see where it all goes?

“Canon just describes the story, it doesn’t change anything about you and I’m sorry if it’s ever seemed like that link. Come on, I'll clean the glass up, then you can finish explaining things okay?”

“No wait, it’s my fault, let me clean it up for you. If nothing else, please honey.”

“You don’t have to, it’s not a bother.”

So he already knows his teary puppy face can get me to agree to anything, he’s been here for less than a few hours and it already feels like we’re in a relationship as he knows me inside out… Which makes sense given that he has been watching me through my phone. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad if I stopped fighting against what he’s offering. The gloves he’s wearing make picking up shards less painful than it would be otherwise, doesn’t take him that long either.

Long enough for something to flicker on my switch, but that can wait.

#these boys have my heart and soul #changed my brain chemistry since the first one I wrote for sky #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #yandere link #self aware lu #self aware au #yandere x reader #lu warriors #lu warriors x reader #moss✦writes

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