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whendesdayisoveritwillbethursday · 2 days ago

Text

Hair Cut

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Summary: Genya had a nightmare and tries to wake his Mama but it doesn't end well. This is the aftermath that follows.

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Warnings for: child abuse, talk of child abuse. (aka Shizu hit Genya.)

Word Count: 7093 (I almost died honestly.)

This is a part 2, but I tried to write in a way that it shouldn't matter too much. These are the connected posts: part 1 and art for the beginning of this.

(Also this is based on the my thought that Genya’s mohawk exists because his hair looks like his father’s.)

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“AAHHHHHH!!”

The scream woke Sanemi up with a jolt. And it all happened too quickly. The harsh sound of a hand slapping against skin and the sharp thud that followed.

Genya’s wail and cries struck Sanemi to his core as he fought against the covers trapping him. His limbs finally freed, he scrambled to his brother’s side, quickly covering him with his own body before looking around for the threat. There wasn’t any. There was no Kyogo. Just Mama huddling in on herself. She looked spooked, a far away look on her face, like she wasn’t there.

Genya was still crying burying his face in Sanemi’s shirt. His pained whimpers were like daggers to Sanemi’s ears and heart. Sanemi rubbed his small, bare shoulders that were peeking out from his shirt.

Genya clung tighter as a full body sob was rung out of the smaller boy. Sanemi scooped the boy closer to himself rubbing a hand up and down his bony back as they sat on the floor.

Sanemi looked at his Mama again, brows pinched in worry.

“Ma.” He called.

She stared blankly ahead of her as if looking at something he couldn’t see.

“Ma.” He called again. She wouldn’t look at him. Her face was pale like a ghost’s. He searched her face, eyes scanning the pinch of her brows, the crinkle by her eyes, and the downturn of her trembling lips.

“What happen-” He started but was cut off by her turning her face away abruptly.

Bewildered and hurt by her actions, and now feeling a little scared himself, Sanemi tightened his arms around Genya. The little boy whimpered again, clinging closer to Sanemi.

She didn’t answer him. She laid down, rolling onto her side facing away from the two.

Her form was still and soon after her breathing evened out as she fell asleep.

Sanemi was scared and confused, his arms shaking. Why was Mama acting like that? He looked at the dark head of hair below his chin and cradled the back of it with his hand. His eyes searched her form like it would tell him the answer, but it didn’t. The slow up and down of her side moving told him she was breathing, and that was all it told him.

He pulls Genya fully into his lap and slowly rocks himself to soothe himself and the crying boy. But despite it, small hiccups could still be heard below him. So he shifted Genya so he clung to him like a monkey and shuffled slowly on bent knees with one arm holding Genya’s back as he crawled back to their futon.

He laid them both down gingerly, using his right hand to pull the blanket over them both while Genya still clung to him tightly. His hand went back to cradling Genya’s head. Fingers slowly combed through black hair like their Mama would do for him sometimes. But Genya wasn’t calming down.

“Shhh,” he shushes, "It's okay.” Genya’s small sniffles could still be heard as Sanemi’s hand cards through his hair. They lay there until the number of sniffles dwindles along with the small knots the older boy found with his fingers.

Sanemi shifts back, intent on seeing Genya’s face, but Genya chases him, clinging tighter to his shirt. He was trying to hide. But Sanemi doesn’t let him and pushes him back until his grip loosens enough on Sanemi’s shirt to see his little brother’s face.

Genya looks up with a begging look. His face is washed in sadness, sadder than he’s ever seen Genya’s sunshine face.

Sanemi wipes a thumb under one of Genya’s eyes and the boy scrubs his face pushing his older brother's hand away. He’s pouting but the sadness takes over again, even draining the irritation from the younger’s face. Sanemi doesn’t like it.

“Genya,” he says softly, concern edging his voice, “Tell me what happened.”

He shakes his head.

“No.”

“Genya…”

He shakes his head again.

“No. Too sad.” He says as tears start to well up in his eyes again. The older’s brows furrow further in concern and he bites his lip.

Sanemi doesn’t want him to cry again, so he forces a small grin to take over his face.

“Then smile. That’ll make you happy.” He says to him.

An angry pout pulls at the smaller face below him as those angry eyes meet his.

“No.” He says firmly.

“No?” Sanemi echoes.

Genya nods ‘yes’ sharply, brows still drawn.

Then Sanemi, in an innocent voice, says, “Then I guess I’ll just have tooo…make you happy.”

Tickling hands meet Genya’s sides suddenly and he squirms, giggling. He fights to keep the smile off his face while Sanemi fights to keep it on. Genya loses the battle and fully gives in to a blinding smile.

They breathe out panting as they calm their hearts from their laughter. Both boys wear a matching smile until Sanemi’s eyes trail across the red mark appearing on Genya’s still chubby cheeks. There was a dark bruise slowly taking its place. Sanemi’s smile shrinks and he asks again, putting a smaller smile on as he meets his brother’s gaze.

“Now will you tell me what happened?” He hedges.

He sees the happiness drain from Genya’s face and the sadness replaces it again. Dang it, Sanemi thinks.

“I’m still sad, Nemi.” Sanemi hums, thinking. His face brightens as a thought catches.

“Then you leave me no choice.” He says, as a devious grin spreading his lips. “I’m calling you something.”

Genya’s eyes flash open wide, “No Aniki!” He says angrily.

Sanemi's eyes widen in glee. A mischievous smirk splitting onto his face now, “I’ll call you twerp.” He snickers remembering Genya’s displeasure from earlier that day.

Genya scowls and still misinterprets the word.

“I’m not a bird.” He crosses his arms.

Sanemi’s smile widens and he chuckles.

“Oh you’re definitely a bird. With that bird's nest on top of your head?” He laughs and rubs his knuckles into the little boy’s hair. Genya squirms trying to get away and slaps at his brother’s arm. Sanemi relents with one last laugh and looks at Genya and hums again in thought. Sanemi taps his chin. “But you're so small…”

Genya whines shoving at his older brother, not wanting to take any more teasing.

Sanemi snaps his fingers. “I’ve got it! You’re a baby bird.”

Genya’s mouth drops open at the offense. His offended features on full display as he sputters. “I’m not a baby!”

Sanemi's eyes crinkle in amusement, humming in appreciation of his brother’s approval. “So you think you're like a bird as well. I’m glad we agree.” He says smugly.

Genya huffs, frustrated. “I’m not a bird either.” He says and then hits his brother hard in the chest.

Sanemi huffs out a wheeze. His little brother was getting stronger. He could feel it. Right there, the little rascal. He chortles and winces at his now sore chest.

“You’ll be my baby bird until you tell me what happened.” He teases, pain straining his voice. Dang, his lungs hurt now.

Genya huffs, his face scrunched up. The little angry face slowly melts into the same sadness as before as his eyes start to water again. Ah crap. Worry blooms in Sanemi and all traces of teasing completely fall away.

Sanemi pulls him closer and watches him while he waits for Genya to speak. He shuffles and rubs Sanemi’s shirt between his fingers. Then Genya mutters something so quiet that Sanemi, even though he’s this close, can’t understand it.

“What?”

Genya speaks up, his voice as wobbly as the tears threatening to fall in his eyes.

“Mama hit me.” He whispers.

Those three words rattle Sanemi’s world. His eyes go wide.

What.

Mama hit Genya?

His thoughts are racing and his own eyes start to well up with tears. Sanemi’s shoulders shake, threatening sobs.

Why would she do that? She loves us. She wouldn’t do that.

But it makes too much sense. There was no one else that could have done that to Genya. Kyogo wasn’t home. Then a thought strikes fear into him. Is she starting to hate them like Kyogo did? Sanemi trembles, bottom lip wobbling. Not Mama too.

He buries his face in Genya’s hair and the tears leak onto the dark fluff below. A sob racks Sanemi’s body and he squeezes Genya closer. Genya lets out a pained squeak and pulls back. Sanemi’s eyes find the forming bruise on Genya’s face again.

Mama did that. His tears run hot down his cheeks. Not Kyogo. His lips wobble.

The longer he looks at the slowly forming bruise the more something is stoked inside him. His eyes pulse in anger. The feeling builds and swells as he hears his and his brother’s crying until one single thought makes sense in the storm brewing in his mind.

I hate her.

A sharp pain strikes his heart like a double-edged blade, but he pushes it away even though he wants to cry at the thought. He forces himself to stay angry and lets the building swell of rage spew.

If she wants to hate us, then I. Hate. Her.

His breath is coming out in short huffs and tears continue to roll down his heated face.

Memories of wanting to be like her come unbidden to his mind. He could feel the way she caressed his cheek and hugged him and gave him kisses good night, but it only serves to make him angrier. His skin boils and shakes them off in a rage. I don’t want to be like her! Her face flashes through his mind soon followed by his father’s. I don’t want to be like them! He brings Genya closer. Mamas and Fathers are worthless. He spits venomously in his mind. As his breathing slows and his thoughts with it, he feels Genya trying to hug him back.

A watery, “I’m sorry Nemi,” is what he hears first and it makes Sanemi go still. He shouldn’t be sorry, but Genya continues, blubbering out words around his tears and snot.

“I wanted Mama cuz I h-had a bad dream. I thought M-mama would scare it away. But she didn’t.” He trembles and his little lips wobble. He sobs harder against Sanemi.

“Why did she hit me, Nemi? Is she mad at me? Did I make her mad, Nemi? What if she never scares the bad dreams away again?” He’s crying, begging Sanemi for answers as he fists Sanemi’s shirt. So Sanemi hugs his brother tightly. Something overwhelming hits him at that moment and he knows what to say.

“I’ll do it.”

Genya pauses in his cries, lifting a teary-eyed face and snotty nose to see his brother’s face. Sanemi looks at his brother with a look Genya had never seen before.

“I’ll protect you from the bad dreams Genya. I’ll protect you from everything.” He declares fiercely, his eyes like a fire.

“We don’t need a Mama.” He spits, shocking the little boy. “We only need each other.” He continues softly. His eyes search Genya’s to see if he understands. Genya nods. His brother is right. He’s always right. He sniffles and snuggles closer to Sanemi and rests his head on his chest.

“Only each other.” Genya repeats in a shaky voice. Sanemi’s head nods ‘yes’ against Genya’s.

“I’ll protect you Genya.” His arms hold him securely and he lifts his hate-filled eyes to narrow at the sleeping form of their mother.

“I promise.”

—

The next morning Sanemi is woken by the sun like usual. Genya is still curled in his arms with his head resting against Sanemi’s arm that’s under him. The both of them are still laying on their sides like the night before.

Sanemi sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He turns his face to see his mother moving their mending baskets into the kitchen. Narrowed lavender eyes watch as she moves and hefts the baskets closer to the bench and prepping table.

She finally gets them to the table where the ferns are no longer drying. She must have put them up already. She opens her basket and pulls out her tray, needles, and threads. They’re neatly set up on the prepping table. As she turns to pull out the mending her eyes meet Sanemi’s.

He glares menacingly and hopes she feels every ounce of hate he now has for her. He pulls Genya closer in a protective hold.

Her eyes shine with emotion and her lip wobbles. She looks back at the mending and it looks like tears are coming to her eyes. A weird feeling prods at Sanemi’s chest but he shoves it away. He doesn’t care if she cries. He hates her.

He watches her move, glare still in place. Genya stirs beside him and he looks down. The bruise had gotten worse. It was swollen and was roughly in the shape of his Mama’s hand.

A queasy feeling rests in Sanemi’s stomach and hot angry tears come to his eyes, which he doesn’t allow to fall. He holds Genya closer to his chest for comfort. A different, overwhelming, emotion prods at his chest, poking into his heart with the desire to be named. He feels- he thinks for a moment. He feels betrayed. Mamas shouldn’t do what she did. Neither should Father’s. He thought he could trust her.

He shakes his head as hot tears trail down his face without his permission. But she’s just like him. His eyes burn. He wipes the tears away with his shoulder. His eyes rest on her back as she moves in the kitchen. He hates her. He tries to hold them back, but the tears come again anyway.

Sanemi lays there while his tears roll down his cheeks, dripping into Genya’s hair. Genya stirs again, starting to wake up. He winces a little as he opens his eyes, the skin beside them slightly swollen. Sanemi quickly wipes his face on his shoulder again before Genya can see.

“H-hey Genya. How’re you feeling?” Sanemi asks. He sees Mama tense out of the corner of his eye. Good, he thinks at her, you should feel bad.

“Hurts Nemi.” He says wincing again when he widens his mouth. The skin beside it is also swollen. Sanemi frowns at this. His eyes trace the swelling from Genya’s mouth, to the corner of his eye, to his temple curving down and stopping right before his ear. The injury and swelling practically covered the left side of his face, with the bruises at the center.

His eyes meet Genya’s and he forces a smile. “It’ll get better Genya.” He says. There wasn’t much they could do about it now.

Genya’s eyes shift to the side and latch onto the small form of their mother sitting on her bench at the table. She was sitting stiffly. There wasn’t any humming. In fact the only noise was the swish of fabric as she moved the shirt she was mending.

They could see her hands trembling which was unusual for their Mama. She always had steady hands. It was those ‘steady hands’ that made them money from mending.

Genya made to get up and go to their mother, probably to apologize, having forgotten their discussion the previous night, but Sanemi forced him to stay beside him. Genya frowned at Sanemi’s hands holding him there. He looks at Sanemi with pinched brows, a question on his lips, but Sanemi can tell the moment that Genya realizes why he was stopping him. His face morphs from understanding to sorrow.

“But I…I want to say sorry Nemi.” He whispers.

“She doesn’t deserve a ‘sorry’.” He whispers back harshly.

Genya flinches back at his voice before nodding, lowering his small brows and looking conflicted. And with that their day starts. Sanemi helps Genya get dressed and then they make their way to the kitchen.

Sanemi can feel her looking at them, but he doesn’t look back. He rummages through the cabinet and once he finds what he’s looking for, grabs a handful of dried ferns and hands some to Genya. He turns to his mother and glares at her and Genya looks between them anxiously.

She goes to speak. “Sanemi-”

He turns not letting her speak to him. “Come on Genya. Let’s go look at my beetles.” He says and as they leave to the backyard he turns a glare towards his mother again. Her face pinches and she turns back to the table and listens as her boys shut the shoji door on their way out.

—

The sun shines, slowly rising to its peak as two boys crouch down in the corner of the yard. Birds chirp and a warm breeze rustles their clothes and hair as they poke sticks into the loosely weaved bamboo basket in front of them. The prod and poke, trying to encourage the horned beetles within to move.

“Why are there so many nii-san?” Genya asks as he watches the beetles move under the moist dirt.

“Cause the parents left them behind.” Sanemi says moving his stick to gently prod at a large beetle. Genya’s brows furrow as he looks at the beetles moving slowly before them in the dark container.

“That’s sad. I’m sorry, beetles.” He says to them, leaning closer to talk to them. He looks at the ones surfacing from the dirt.

“Why do some have horns?” Genya asks. He sits down on this bum and pulls his knees up, content now to just watch now that the beetles are moving.

“Cause some are boys and the others are girls.” Sanemi answers and joins his brother, leaning back to sit and watch through the bamboo cage. Genya nods in understanding before confusion colors his face and he looks at Sanemi.

“But which is which?” Sanemi looks at him and then back at the beetles. The wind shifts his hair and he brushes it back. He points at the ones with horns.

“I think these ones are the boys. They’re really big and strong looking.” He smiles proudly, glancing back at Genya.

Genya smiles a toothy smile and nods along. “They’re really pretty. I hope we keep them forever.” He says throwing his arms wide to show how long ‘forever’ was.

Sanemi nods happily. He smiles. “Me too.” He stares at the beetles smiling while resting his head on his knees. He lays his head to the side and looks back at Genya before he speaks.

“Ya know they used to be real ugly.” Genya looks at him. Sanemi nods at the beetles.

“Yeah they looked like fat worms and crawled around in the dirt, and then they turned even uglier. They looked all squishy and brown before getting darker and getting harder backs. They can fly too.” He says.

Genya’s eyes widen at the flying bit as he looks back at the now beautiful bugs, trying to imagine them as ugly. He shakes his head, unable to see them as anything but as they are.

Sanemi bumps his left elbow into Genya’s right arm. “Did you want to feed them?” He asks and Genya’s eyes widen, an excited grin spreading, but winces a little and shrinks his smile, still excited. Sanemi eyes glance at the swollen side of his brother's face before shifting to stand. He holds out a hand to help his brother up. “Come on.” Genya grabs his hand and follows his brother.

The grass tickles their feet, brushing it where their sandals don’t cover. Genya giggles at the feeling, kicking his feet along the grass as they walk.

Sanemi leads him around their house instructing Genya to pick flowers. He’s a little confused by this, but he likes picking flowers, so he does so without complaint. Once they have a couple handfuls, Sanemi heads back to the bamboo cage.

The brothers kneel beside it and Sanemi begins to pick off the flower heads and dropping them in. Genya almost protests at the ripping of perfectly good flowers until he sees the beetles scurry to them and follows his brother’s example. The brothers continue to do this until all that’s left is stems. Genya looks as the beetles.

“They eat flowers?” Genya cocks his head at Sanemi, trying to confirm his suspicions.

“Yes.”

“How’d you know nii-san?” Sanemi looks at his brother, laughing a little at his face. His brows are raised and eyes wide as they stare at Sanemi.

He chuckles. “Their parents were eating from flowers when I found them in the woods.” Sanemi pauses. “I think they also eat tree sap, cause the mama looked like she was eating that when I was watching them. But yeah, they eat flowers.” Genya nods seriously.

“You’re smart nii-san.” He says, awe in his voice as his eyes practically sparkle. Sanemi smiles.

“Thanks. Ya know the babies eat rotten wood?” Genya’s head whips to the side, eyes wide.

“Really?” He says.

Sanemi nods. “Yeah. If I didn’t figure that out, they would have died.”

Genya’s brows pinch as he looks at the hungry beetles. Genya scoots closer and leans his head against his brother’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re smart Nemi.”

Sanemi rests his left arm around Genya, pulling him closer and rests his head atop his.

“Thanks bud.”

They sit and watch as the beetles feast, squirming and bumping each other to get to the flowers in the enclosed space. Sometimes a small fight would breakout between the beetles making the two brothers giggle and cheer the beetles on. The sun had begun to grow hotter as it rose in the morning sky and Sanemi’s thoughts shifted to his mother.

He watched a male beetle, smaller than the others, eat. His eyes trailed over the dark red and black bug. His mother had talked to him yesterday about wanting to see if these beetles were edible. Most were he knew. He had said to her that they would race the beetles soon and the weakest ones would be what they would eat. That little beetle would probably be eaten.

Sanemi’s face sours and anger petters to life in his chest. He didn’t know how he felt now. He knew yesterday he’d do anything to make sure Mama wouldn’t have to worry about food, even sacrificing his baby beetles, but then last night…Sanemi huffs a little.

Genya giggles beside him, slightly jostling Sanemi as he watches two male beetles fall over from fighting each other. Sanemi looks back at the smaller beetle, sadly but making up his mind. He’d sacrifice them for Genya, and for his mother, he supposed, but only because she still had their new siblings in her belly.

Sanemi’s thoughts drift to the unborn twins. His mother was inside right now working on the mending. Usually Sanemi would be right beside her. The morning after getting new stuff from their clients to fix and wash was always busy.

They would eat, get ready for the day, then begin mending the clothing they were given to mend. Then they’d wash the other, dirty clothes and hang them up. After, they’d take a break to eat lunch and then work through the rest of the day washing, mending, hanging clothes to dry.

By the time the sun went down they’d stop to make dinner and eat. Then they’d bring in all the dried clothes to fold tomorrow and after, get Genya ready for bed. Sanemi and Shizu would continue to mend clothing until they grew tired. Sanemi always got tired first and would be sent to bed while his mother stayed up long after him. All in all, days like this one were very busy.

It would be hard on their Mama to do it all by herself if Sanemi didn’t help her. But he didn’t want to help her. He hated her. He looks over at Genya’s face, where he could see the swollen bruising. The anger pettered to life once more, before dying out. A sigh escapes his lips.

He couldn’t let his anger get in the way when he still had to protect his siblings and help make money with Mama. Sanemi stands, a determined look crossing his face. I’ll help her, but only for the babies and Genya. He looks down at Genya as Genya looks at him and cocks his head.

“Where you going, Nemi?” He asks.

“To help Mama.” He says.

Genya has a questioning look on his face. Sanemi, seeing this, says. “I need to help her with the clothes, so we can make money and get food and stuff, and I need to help the babies in her belly.” Genya nods before looking down and not meeting Sanemi’s eyes.

“I still want to say sorry Nemi.” He says in a small voice. The anger sparks in Sanemi again, but he tries to soften it.

“You don’t have to say sorry Genya. She should say sorry.” He answers sternly while crossing his arms.

Genya’s watery eyes meet his.

“B-but I don’t want Mama to think I hate her.” He stutters.

Sanemi huffs and turns away while his brows furrow. “Well I do.” He says bitterly.

“Nemi!” He gasps.

“Well I do.” He says to Genya more firmly. “If she can do that then I can hate her like father.” He says gesturing to the left side of Genya’s face.

Genya huffs and crosses his arms. His baby cheeks puff out and he scrunches his face at his older brother, still wincing at the pain. “I don’t.” He says petulantly, willing to be in pain to show Sanemi his angry face.

“You should! She hit you Genya.” Sanemi says, raising his voice.

“Mama was scared!” Genya stands and stomps his foot while clenching his fists at his side.

“No she wasn’t!” Sanemi yells back stubbornly.

“Yes she was!” Genya yells.

Both boys are breathing harshly. Eyes wide in anger and faces flushed. The Genya’s belly gurgles in hunger and they both look at the belly for interrupting them. Genya turns away crossing his arms over his belly. “She was.” Genya says getting the last word in.

Sanemi turns away, sighing frustrated. “Come on. Let’s go eat lunch. We gotta help Mama catch up anyway.”

Genya nods sharply, refusing to meet Sanemi’s eyes as they walk back to the house.

—

The two boys come into the kitchen and see their mother making a soup of some kind. Sanemi recognizes the smell of ferns, nettles, and garlic. The room is filled with the aroma and sounds of a ladle scraping the bottom and sides of the pot. No one speaks.

Sanemi glances at the bare dining table and seat cushions and begins wordlessly setting the table with Genya trailing behind him to help. Once set, they look at the barrel in the corner. Sanemi knew it was low yesterday and with a glance at the pot on the stove, he knew they’d have to get more water for them to drink.

With a turn, he picks up the two small buckets beside the barrel and hands one to Genya. It takes quite a long time, but they eventually fetch water from the well outside and bring it in, with Genya’s only half as filled as Sanemi’s.

Once back inside Genya gets the job of ladling water into the cups, which he spills. Multiple times. But in the end, each cup is filled and the bowls beside them may or may not be as well.

The rest of the water they dump into the barrel for later, replacing the lid. Then the two sit and wait, listening to their mother stir the soup. Sanemi sips the water out of his bowl, not knowing what else to do in this silence. This silence only belonged here when Kyogo was home to eat with them. It didn’t belong when it was just the three of them.

After a little wait, their Ma finishes, bringing the pot over to the table and ladles a spoonful into each bowl. The steam rises tickling Sanemi’s face. He glances at his mother as she moves to set the pot back on the stove. She looks miserable. And like she’s been crying. Something uncomfortable squirms in his chest, but he ignores it and begins blowing off his food.

The day continues much like that. Silent. Awkward. Uncomfortable. And tense. Sanemi and Genya had begun working on the washing first. Genya would fetch water and help wash the clothing, and Sanemi, being taller, would hang the clothing after rinsing it. They worked well together, knowing where each other were as they moved. But they didn’t talk, not with two still being upset from their earlier argument. After finishing, they moved inside to help.

Genya went off and played in the corner with the wooden toys that used to be Sanemi’s while Sanemi helped his mother with the mending. He would pull things from his basket, find the correct thread, fix the item, and then pile it beside him. The pattern continued and he fell into the familiar rhythm.

They were sitting at the prepping table beside the stove, on the bench together. It was a familiar setting but not the same. The silence was still there. No humming or talking. No laughter either. It made the room feel gloomy and stifling. The only thing heard was Genya mumbling to himself as he spoke for the toys in his hands. Usually, he’d talk aloud and they would hear the stories he had concocted for the toys. But not today. Today wasn’t a day to hear cheerful stories played by toys.

Sanemi glanced at his mother and quickly looked back to his mending. He wanted her to say something, anything, but she didn’t. She kept her silence. He could see her from the corner of his eye. Her form was bowed and her face troubled by something, Maybe guilt? She should feel guilty. She deserves it. Her face was also tired. Something pokes at his chest and he shoves it away. He wasn’t worried. He didn’t care. Sanemi focused more intensely on the tear in the plain black kimono in front of him. His mother sighs beside him audibly, making him tense, but he acts like nothing happened.

“Sanemi. Genya. We need to talk.” She says quietly.

Sanemi tenses again and still works on the mending. He hears Genya’s mumbling stop and hears the clatter as he puts the wooden toys down. Genya’s feet shuffle across the floor as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“Sanemi.” She calls, but he continues the stitches, ignoring her. Now she finally wants to talk? “Sanemi.” She calls again. What about this morning? What about last night!? His stitches move faster, still precise, until he nicks his finger. He hisses, dropping the kimono and needle into his lap. He sticks his thumb in his mouth and whips his head to his mother with a glare, but falters at the look on her face.

She looks broken, pleading, and weary, like a burden was dropped on her shoulders heavier than she could handle. She motions for them to move to the table.

Sanemi huffs and continues sucking the blood from the pricked spot on his thumb. He doesn’t want to go. He sees his mother and Genya move from the corner of his eye.

His mother starts to kneel but goes off kilter as she does. Sanemi is up in a flash, grabbing her elbow to steady her. She looks at Sanemi and gives a small smile before settling on the floor with one hand holding her stomach. Sanemi keeps a neutral face and decides to join them. He sits cross-legged, crosses his arms, and sticks his pricked thumb back in his mouth.

Sanemi watches as Genya settles to the right of their mother and much closer to her than Sanemi was. It made a sour feeling bubble up in his stomach. Mama trails her eyes over Genya’s bruises that she can clearly see from this angle. His face was still swollen and would likely be that way for a couple of days. The older boy could see the guilt building the longer she looked and in a weird way it made Sanemi feel better.

All day he had wanted to say something mean and hurtful to her to get her to realize what she had done, to acknowledge what she had done to Genya. He wanted to shake her and wake her from her silence and maybe yell and scream.

He had wanted her to feel ignored, but he hadn’t expected her to ignore them, or well …she didn’t ignore them. But she didn’t say anything either, but that just made him more angry. She hit Genya. The least she could do was fess up to it and say sorry.

But now seeing her feel that guilt made it all dissipate. But he wouldn’t let her off the hook easily, so he kept his glare up and sucked on his thumb. He wished he didn’t need to. His face briefly pouted. It made him look like a baby again.

Movement caught his eyes as he saw his mother briefly reach a hand towards Genya’s face as if to hold it, but stopped herself and let her hand fall back into her lap. A pained look crossed her face as a disappointed look crossed Genya’s. Genya watched their mother sadly as she replaced her hands. He was probably thinking she thought he hated her like he said that morning. A shuddering breath left their mother as she sucked in air and let it out.

“I’m sorry.” She starts. Sanemi pulls his thumb from his mouth.

Her head raises and she looks at both their faces. Sanemi can see the regret and sorrow there. But mostly the guilt. Glistening eyes look at Genya and he tries to smile at her. Her knuckles turn white with how she’s clenching them in her lap.

“I hurt you.” She chokes.

Her eyes turn to Sanemi and he glances to the side.

“And broke your trust.” She whispers.

A shuddering breath goes in and goes out again. Her eyes lowered to her white-knuckled grip.

“I have never wanted to hurt you. I have always wanted to protect you. And I never meant to-”

“Then why did you?” Sanemi’s harsh voice cuts in, unable to help himself.

Her tears flow freely as her startled face meets Sanemi’s even harsher glare. His face is brittle, riddled with anger, hurt, and betrayal. She could see the tears welled up deep in his eyes, but they weren’t spilling.

Sanemi stands to his feet as his anger spikes.

“Why did you do that?!” He yells practically in her face even at a distance. His arm swings wide to point at Genya’s face. Shizu looks. Genya doesn’t meet either of their eyes. He just fiddles with his fingers.

“Do you hate us?!” Sanemi’s childish voice cracks and Shizu whips around in horror to stare at her eldest. Tears are cascading down his cheeks now, falling off his long lashes as he stares, at her, broken. His voice wobbles as he continues to yell.

“Why’d you do it?! Why’d you hit him?! I thought you loved us! But you hate us! You’re supposed to be a Mama! You’re supposed to be my Mama! Our Mama! Why’re you being like him?!” He shouts. He sobs and tries to rub away tears that won’t stop rolling, cheeks too wet to wipe them away. His nose begins to snot as he hiccups.

Shizu sits shocked. She can hear Genya crying as well. She unfreezes and slowly reaches for Sanemi’s hand and tugs it. He jerks away, resisting weakly, still scrubbing his face with one arm. She tugs again towards her and he follows. She pulls him close and pulls him in until he’s sitting on what’s left of her lap after the baby bump.

She tucks his head under hers and hugs him close, listening to his hiccuping cries. Her tears fall down her face into his snow white hair as she squeezes her eyes shut. She opens them to look at Genya who’s still crying.

He’s rubbing his face and spreading his snot and tears along his arms. Shizu holds out a hand and he practically runs and slams into them both. She holds her boys crying with them until the sniffles die down and the snot runs dry and the tears slow to a turtle's pace. They pull away and look at her with expectant, red rimmed, eyes.

Shizu looks down in shame.

Her voice is soft as she speaks. “I had almost been asleep.” She starts. She stares at her open palms in her lap. They start to shake.

“It was dark. Someone had turned off the lights.” She pauses, taking in a shaky breath.

“I could feel someone above me. I thought your father was home, maybe, and hadn’t bothered us for some reason. Or maybe he wasn’t there at all.” She trails off and tears spring to her eyes. Her voice becomes strained.

“I opened my eyes and it was him. He was over me and I- I-” She chokes on a sob.

“I panicked.” She said and covered her mouth.

“And when I looked back it wasn’t your father.” She looks at Genya.

“I’m so sorry honey. I didn’t know. I don’t know what happened. I thought you were- You looked like-” She cuts herself off, regret clear on her face for comparing Genya to him. She looks at her lap again. Silence washes over them and Sanemi swallows.

“Why-” He starts, catching his mother’s attention. He clears his throat. “Why didn’t you say anything after? Or when we woke up?” He asks in a small voice, needings to know. His eyes search her face as she answers.

She clears her throat and meets their eyes. “That night…I don’t know. I saw what happened and then I’m not completely sure what happened after. I just woke up the next morning. And today…I-” She pauses as she searches her own thoughts before continuing.

“I didn’t know how. It was clear you both were upset with me this morning and wanted space.” She says softly. “So I gave it. I think we all needed time to think on it. But I couldn’t let it last forever.” She finished.

Sanemi nodded in understanding and feeling slightly guilty for shunning their mother today. He hadn’t made it easy to approach them. His fingers rub the cloth of his shirt hem between them anxiously, not sure where to go from there.

Genya suddenly stands up and pumps a fist. “I’m gonna cut my hair!” He shouts and starts running and looking around the room for something to cut it with. This makes them both look at him in shock.

“What??”

“Huh!?”

Genya looks exasperated and places his hands on his hips. “My hair scares Mama. We need to cut it.” He explains, like that makes sense.

Sanemi can see the moment he spots the scissors behind him on the prepping table. He jumps up running to the table. Genya runs and Sanemi beats him to it. He holds the scissors high above the little boy’s head. Shizu shakes from her shock and realizes why Genya was doing what he was doing. She struggles to stand, but manages, and makes her way over to her boys.

“Nemi! Give it to me!” Genya squeaks at his brother, his voice becoming higher as he gets frustrated.

“No! I’m not letting you cut your hair.” He says back incredulously. “You’ll probably cut your ear off!”

Genya stomps. “No I won’t.”

Shizu rests a hand on Genya’s shoulder causing him to look at her. His face is pulled into a pout. “Genya. Your hair is not scary. I’m sorry I made you think that. But you don’t need to cut it. I promise. I don’t think you’re him. You're nothing like him.” She says her brows lowered as she searches his face in concern.

Genya huffs and crosses his arms. “My hair is scary. I don’t want hair that scares you.” He pouts and looks down. He swings his foot, scuffing it against the floor before he meets her eyes again.

“You always say my hair is pretty like daddy’s, but it’s not pretty if it’s like his.” He pauses before saying seriously. “I don’t want ugly hair.” He scowls, turning his scrunched face to his mother.

“You don’t have ugly hair, sweetheart.” She says and she brushes her fingers through it. She sighs. “But I guess it is getting too long.” She hedges.

Sanemi looks at his little brother and his hair. He tilts his head to get a different angle. I guess his hair does look like Kyogo’s. Sanemi shudders a bit. Not good. Sanemi finds himself nodding along with his mother. “Yeah you don’t have ugly hair, but you also don’t have a warriors' hair either!” Sanemi says.

“What?” Genya says, cocking his head.

Sanemi’s mother looks at him trying to figure out what he’s up to. He smiles reassuringly at her before he looks back to Genya.

“Yeah! You could be like a samurai! They only have hair in the middle.” Sanemi raises his hands to his hair and squishes the hair up like a fin on a fish. “Like this! You would look super cool!”

Genya wiggles, getting excited. He looks at his mother who still looks hesitant.

“Please.” He says, eyes big and pleading. He squeezes his hands together and bounces a little and her resolve crumbles.

“Okay.” She sighs.

The boys cheer and Sanemi begins gathering the hair cutting supplies in a hurry. Her boys bumble about bumping into each other. Sanemi ends up having to dodge Genya’s grabby hands, who’s a little too eager to get started. Shizu smiles at their antics. She lets out a startled laugh as her youngest kicks her eldest in the shin for being too slow and for not letting him have sharp objects.

“You can’t have ‘em!”

“Why not!”

“You’ll cut your ear off. Or your finger!”

“No I won’t!”

The house was filled with noise once more. Squabbling and laughter resounded in the kitchen as the sun began to lower. Shizu smiled as she laughed. Their life wasn’t perfect, but in moments like this she felt it was.

“Get back here twerp!” Sanemi yells chasing his little brother as he runs off.

“I’m not a bird!” He yells back, not heeding his command.

She laughed, smiling again. Yes, it was perfect.

—

So I tried to take my time with this, but still felt like I rushed it. Oh well. Hope y'all enjoyed.

Anyways, Cool stuff I found while researching:

I thought about where Genya's mohawk might have been inspired from and Chonmage a topknot haircut commonly worn by samurai in the Edo period kind of fit the bill. It looks kind of similar to a mohawk and could be misinterpreted by a young child like Sanemi to be the shape he described it as.

Japanese rhinoceros adult beetles are nocturnal, do burrow under dirt, and like a moist environments. They eat nectar and tree sap along with fruit and other sweet things. At first they look like white grubs that eat rotten wood, then become weird, ugly, and brown, before developing wings and a hard outer shell. The male's wings develop different to account for the extra weight of their horns.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #sanemi shinazugawa #genya shinazugawa #demon slayer #kny genya #kny sanemi #demon slayer sanemi #shinazugawa brothers #shinazugawa sanemi #shizu shinazugawa #kny fanfic #kny anime #demon slayer fanfic #baby genya #sanemi headcanons

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tonycries · 1 year ago

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Little Heaven

Synopsis. He’s just your friend-with-benefits, right? So why - in the still haze of the soft sheets and you, fúcking you so sensual and tenderly - does he feel like he’s found his own personal heaven?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, kinda fluffy, he’s both pússydrunk and in love, slow to rough, marking, mentions of marriage and kids, morning, swearing.

Word count. 1.3k

A/N. Probably the fluffiest smút I’ve ever written.

You were just his friend-with-benefits, right? No strings attached, right?

So why was he here? Sinking into your plush mattress, quiet morning sun just barely peeking in through the curtains as he wraps his arms around your naked figure.

God, he really shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be laying you on your side, drinking in your soft little, “G’mornin’.” Both of your movements languid and still burning with soreness. Your hips pushing back desperately into his as he positions himself so that his leaking tip was just kissing your swollen folds.

He shouldn’t be whispering soft kisses into the marks that littered your skin. Licking one, long stripe up the sinful trail of hickies down your neck. All sensual touches where it was bruising grips last night.

That was rule #1, right? No marks.

Or was it #4…

Ah, right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck. Not when his greedy eyes wander the expanse of your face, fingers trailing along the features he’s mapped a thousand times over. Tracing delicate patterns across your skin, snaking down, down, down to leisurely lift your leg a little higher.

Bare chest warm against your back, his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he whispers, “I had a dream y’know.”

Mind still thinly veiled with sleep, you lean into his warm touch, “Mhm?”

Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip. Smearing your juices with his thumb as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good. You almost miss the way he buries his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring a soft “Had a dream of us.”

Oh?

Before you can overthink his words, he’s nudging in gently. So agonizingly gentle. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt.

You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy and him.

And it seems he was drunk on you just as much, because as soon as his hips are flush against yours, the words escape him. So quiet and groggy with sleep, that you almost don’t catch them.

“Had a dream that I made you my beautiful bride.”

Oh.

That was new. His words hung heavy in the heady air.

Shivers run down your spine - all the way to where he was buried in your dripping cunt. Your voice is slightly shaky as you let out a humorless laugh, “Oh yeah? Must’ve been a nightmare then.”

Soft lips press against your forehead, breathing in your scent. Absolutely searing as he mutters out a muffled, “No, was the best dream I ever had.”

And then, with the audacity of someone who didn’t just send your mind reeling, he pulls his hips back unhurriedly. Immediately fucking into you at a slow, sensual pace. Tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips languidly into yours, making sure you feel every bump and graze against your tight walls.

You don’t know what’s more maddening - his agonizing pace or the words that tumble out of his lips. “Y’looked so beautiful in white. So pretty walking down the aisle to me.”

His lips brush against yours, hands dancing across every inch of you he could reach. Gently caressing the skin like it’s something divine, soothing over the marks from last night as if an apology. “Don’ think I’d want to see anyone else there.”

You glance back at him - only to find his eyes already on you. A jolt of electricity runs across your skin at the pure warmth in them. And you realize that, no, this wasn’t a joke.

Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply grind your hips down to meet his, abs rubbing against your ass. Letting out a broken whimper of what sounds like his name as he moves down a hand to press rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit.

“Saw a little something else too.” he hums, a sly smile curling his lips as his other hand dances across your body to press down on your stomach. Hard. “Saw that I had some competition - two actually. Funny, right?”

“Hah- h-hilarious.” you manage to choke out as his thumb speeds up on your clit, hips moving a bit more purposefully. A bit more like you were used to. Rock-hard cock plunging into your quivering cunt in deliberate, sloppy thrusts that have you white-knuckling the sheets.

“Though…” he trails off dangerously, pulling back all the way until his furiously hard tip was just kissing your waiting hole. “I wouldn’t really mind.”

And with that he’s sheathing his throbbing erection in your wet pussy completely. A gasp of delight leaves him at the way you take him so readily. Walls sucking him up so sinfully - perfect. You were always so perfect for him.

“Dreamt we had a lil’ house with a big garden.” God, he can feel his cock harden so painfully at the fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your pretty lips each time his hip smack into yours. It’s music to his ears, such a shame he just can’t shut the fuck up right now. “And then you dressed the kids up while I made breakfast.”

“Then you made us do taxes and I didn’t even fucking mind.” His voice is strained now, words slurring together as he rams his cock deeper and deeper, glistening with your slick in the soft morning glow.

“And finally at night, I say we should make a third one.”

He looks at you, a sly grin stretching his lips, eyes half-lidded and a dangerous twinkle in them that has you wondering whether everything he said before was merely a ruse to fuck you silly. And it probably shows on your face - because he grins lowly in your ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we have till our wedding night f’me to fuck you slow.”

And oh he almost feels guilty. But he can’t bring himself to slow down at the way your swollen lips drop into such a pretty oh! at his words. Mewling at the sting of his heavy balls as they smack your ass. Walls clamping down desperately on his dick, milking him for every drop of pleasure. Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy as he focuses on making you lose your mind.

He shifts his angle slightly, grinding expertly against your g-spot just right, and you throw your head back, releasing a low moan of his name.

“Shit. Yeah, say m’name, sweetheart. Jus’ like that.” he moans breathlessly.

His name - soon to be yours.

Maybe.

You turn your head to face him, eyes fiery as you capture his in an equally scorching kiss. Cock slamming into your poor, abused cunt with an intensity that matches that of your lips.

Probably.

Biting down on his lower lips, soft yet insistent. Humming deliriously against his mouth - and in the heat of it all, he feels you smile against his lips. Ever-so-slightly.

Definitely.

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure behind your eyes, walls clamping down so deliciously around his twitching cock. It sends him over the edge as well - whispering your name as if a prayer, voice hoarse with emotions neither of you could name at this very moment.

Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your trembling cunt white, milking the soul out of him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forming around his base as some truly animalistic part of himself fucks his seed into you - a promise, he likes to think.

“I’m serious about the dream.”

Almost as gentle as that one.

As the haze settles, his thrusts slowing down to just shallow grinds, a fragile silence envelopes the room as neither of you speak. Because maybe no other words were needed.

And right now, morning sunlight harsh on his skin, strong arms pulling you warm body flush against his, no one but you two in this quiet world - he doesn’t think he’d like to be anywhere else.

All is well in your little heaven.

- GOJO, GETO, Choso, SUNA, ATSUMU, Tsukishima, Kuroo, EREN

A/N. Bro it took longer to think of what to write than to write this.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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maskedbyghost · 20 days ago

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Hear me out, possessive reader plays a prank, or maybe to see how it would work out and starts acting wayyy less possessive, to the point of being a normal partner..

I NEED SI REACTION

Anon, I love your fucking mind. I had the best time writing this, literally giggling and kicking my feet while imagining Simon spiraling because his crazy girl went "normal mode" on him and he couldn’t handle it for even a second. BASED ON THIS IDEA

You barely looked at him when the waitress called him handsome.

You just smiled to yourself and kept sipping your drink, didn’t glare at her, didn’t grab his hand and lace your fingers through his, didn’t scoot closer in your seat or wrap your arms around him like you used to, and Simon sat there blinking at you like he’d just been slapped across the face.

And then when you walked past a group of girls at the grocery store and one of them giggled and said something about his arms, you didn’t even flinch, didn’t even frown, didn’t even murmur something low and territorial under your breath the way you always did, and Simon actually almost tripped over the cart trying to get a reaction out of you, heart hammering so hard.

You used to get pissed if he so much as looked at another woman too long, used to give him that smug little smirk when you caught someone staring at him, used to lean into him and press your mouth to his ear and mutter "mine" so dark and low that it left him shivering for hours, and now? Now you were just... chill.

Way too chill.

He caught himself thinking insane things like maybe you were losing interest, maybe you were getting ready to leave, maybe you finally realized he wasn’t enough for you, maybe you were pulling away slow and silent to make it easier when you walked out for good, and by the time you got home, Simon’s brain was working overtime, replaying every interaction, every glance, every smile you had given that wasn’t just for him, every time you hadn't touched him when you should have.

You didn’t steal his hoodie when he tossed it on the couch.

You didn’t scroll through his phone and make snarky comments about the girls who liked his photos.

You didn’t pull into his lap when he sat down to watch TV.

You didn’t tell him to shower because he "smelled like other people," which he always secretly loved, even though he rolled his eyes and grumbled about it every time.

You just... existed next to him.

Detached.

Simon sat there on the couch while you scrolled on your phone, completely casual, legs tucked under you, not touching him at all, and he was spiraling so badly he almost convinced himself he could physically see the relationship disintegrating in real time, piece by miserable piece.

He thought about asking if you still loved him.

He thought about proposing on the spot just to lock you down before you could change your mind.

He thought about texting Johnny and asking him if it was normal to feel like your entire world was slipping out from under you because your girlfriend wasn’t being a possessive lunatic for five seconds.

Finally, when you stood up and stretched and said, "I'm gonna head to bed" without even glancing at him, without even saying goodnight or trying to drag him with you, Simon couldn’t take it anymore.

He launched off the couch and followed you, heart pounding like he was about to get left behind at the airport or something, stomach twisted into a knot.

You climbed into bed and flipped onto your side, facing away from him like it was nothing, like you hadn’t spent months curling around him like a vine the second he lay down.

He just stood there at the foot of the bed, breathing way too hard for a normal human being, feeling an honest-to-God panic attack brewing in his chest.

"Love," he said, his voice way shakier than he wanted it to be.

You didn’t even roll over. "Hmm?"

He swallowed hard, hands fisting at his sides. "You don’t want me anymore."

You snorted. Actually snorted. "What are you talking about?"

Simon clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. "You—you’re not even—you didn’t get mad when that girl flirted with me. You didn’t steal my hoodie. You didn’t call me yours even once. You’re acting like we’re—" his voice cracked and he cursed under his breath, "—like we’re normal."

You turned slowly, propping yourself up on your elbow, and the look you gave him was so infuriatingly calm he almost burst into tears on the spot.

"You mean," you said, so evenly it made his eye twitch, "like a normal girlfriend who trusts her boyfriend?"

He stared at you, chest heaving, entire body screaming at him that something was wrong.

"You’re gonna leave me," he said, absolutely sure of it, absolutely certain this was the beginning of the end.

You blinked at him for a second, like you were trying very hard not to laugh in his stupid, panicking face, and then you moved so fast he barely had time to react—you were grabbing him by the front of his shirt, hauling him down onto the bed, straddling his hips, and pinning him there with your thighs as your hands locked around his neck, firm but not tight, just enough to make him shut up and listen.

"Listen to me, you stupid, beautiful man," you said, voice low and furious in that way that made every nerve in his body light up, "you need me just as much as I need you. You belong to me. You hear me? You are fucking mine. I’m not going anywhere; I’m never fucking leaving you. I don't want normal; I want you wrapped around my fucking finger where you belong. Don’t ever doubt that again."

You leaned in closer, your nose brushing his, your hands still gripping his neck just enough to keep him pinned under you, and you added, your voice dropping even lower, smug and wicked, "And maybe I wanted you to lose your fucking mind for a bit. Wanted you to see how much you love it when I’m unhinged about you."

Simon just exhaled like he’d been punched in the stomach and kissed at the same time, his whole body sagging against the bed.

He groaned, almost whining, burying his face against your chest with a muffled, desperate, "Fuckin’ hell, don’t ever do that to me again, you psycho."

But his arms were wrapping around you like steel, holding you so tight, and when you laughed and tugged his hair gently, he actually sighed in relief, like his whole world had finally clicked back into place.

"You’re crazy," he muttered again, not even trying to sound annoyed, his voice almost grateful.

"You love it," you said against his hair, grinning wide enough your cheeks hurt.

"Yeah," he breathed, voice raw and low and real, "yeah, I fuckin’ do. I need you crazy. Need you to ruin me a little. Keep me yours."

You kissed the side of his head, smug and sweet and savage all at once, and Simon just kept breathing you in, letting that awful gnawing terror bleed out of him one slow second at a time until there was nothing left but you, your hands, your voice, your body wrapped around him like armor, pulling him deeper, anchoring him exactly where he belonged.

And he was fine, better than fine actually, and exactly where he needed to be.

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

i can't even explain how much i love this idea...

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you

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xo100 · 6 months ago

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Little moments, big hearts - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: You and Lando spend a cozy morning babysitting your brother’s baby. Between playful banter and tender moments, Lando hints at a future together, leaving you both feeling closer and full of hope.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2270

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, spilling soft, golden light across the room. Lando lay stretched out, one arm slung across the mattress, while you were curled up beside him, close enough to feel the steady rhythm of his breathing. Between you, cradled in a little cocoon of blankets, was your brother’s baby boy, whose eyelids fluttered softly in the early morning light.

Your brother had asked if you and Lando could babysit his little one for the day while he and his wife went out for the first real date they'd had in months. You had barely been able to answer before Lando was nodding enthusiastically, the prospect of a baby-filled day surprisingly welcome. And now, here you were—still half-asleep, all three of you wrapped in a cozy little pile on the bed.

“Did I ever mention,” Lando whispered, his voice still laced with sleep, “that you look ridiculously cute with a baby in your arms?”

You cracked one eye open and met his gaze, fighting off a drowsy grin. “I think you mentioned it once or twice. Maybe.”

Lando’s fingers lightly traced circles along your arm as he shifted his gaze back to the tiny, slumbering face nestled between you. “He’s actually quite peaceful,” he murmured with a smile, “for a little guy who woke up every two hours last night.”

“He has been a little handful,” you admitted, biting back a yawn as you watched the baby stir slightly, one chubby hand curling into a tiny fist.

“But,” Lando added, his voice softening as he adjusted the blankets around the baby, “I kinda get why your brother adores him so much.” He looked up at you, his eyes warm, a mischievous glint lighting up his tired smile. “Though I have to say, I think he looks cuter in my arms.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, rolling over to prop yourself up on an elbow and raising a playful eyebrow. “I think he’d say otherwise.”

Lando laughed quietly, his eyes gleaming. “Care to make a wager on that?”

You snorted, gently nudging him. “As if he’s going to pick sides.”

“Well, I think he’s got good taste,” Lando replied, feigning a cocky smirk. “He already knows I’m the fun one.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, careful not to wake the baby. “I’d hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure I’m his favorite.”

Lando’s eyes twinkled, and he leaned a little closer, lowering his voice to a murmur. “Fine. But I’m your favorite, right?”

Rolling your eyes, you swatted him lightly, but you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “If you keep your voice down and don’t wake him up, you just might be.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You drive a hard bargain.”

For a few minutes, you just lay there, letting the quiet settle over the room, feeling Lando’s hand gently tracing up and down your arm, your heart warm with the weight of everything familiar and right. The baby stirred every now and then, tiny hands reaching for your fingers, which you offered gladly. Every so often, he’d grasp one of Lando’s fingers, his little face creasing in what looked like the beginnings of a smile.

Lando watched him with a look you’d rarely seen, an expression caught somewhere between awe and contentment. He caught your gaze and offered a sheepish grin. “I think I could get used to this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, glancing back down at the baby. “I mean, lazy mornings like this…with you, and maybe even a little one of our own someday.” He gave a small shrug, his cheeks just a little pink. “Just thinking out loud, you know.”

The thought made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile as you reached out, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Maybe someday,” you murmured, your heart swelling at the idea of more mornings just like this.

Lando looked at you with such warmth in his eyes, a gentleness that felt like sunlight. “Yeah, someday,” he whispered back, his thumb rubbing small, soothing circles on your hand.

The baby let out a little sigh, his mouth forming a perfect “O” as he squirmed a bit before settling back down, his breathing soft and even. Lando chuckled, pulling you closer so you were nestled against him, your head on his chest as his fingers brushed up and down your back in gentle strokes.

“I think we wore him out,” you murmured, watching the baby’s peaceful face.

“Or maybe he wore us out,” Lando replied, stifling a yawn.

“True,” you admitted, stifling a laugh. “But I don’t mind.”

“Neither do I,” Lando whispered, his voice so soft you could almost believe he was already half-asleep.

With your eyes drifting shut, the morning seemed to stretch on forever, warm and unhurried, filled with a quiet joy that made you want to hold onto every second. You could feel Lando’s heartbeat beneath you, steady and sure, a gentle reminder that this was real. That he was real.

After a few minutes, you felt his fingers brush against your cheek, his touch light and lingering, just enough to make you open your eyes and meet his gaze. He was smiling at you, a slow, tender smile that sent your heart racing all over again.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, just barely above a whisper.

“Hey yourself,” you whispered back, grinning.

Lando leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Just so you know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin, “I’m pretty sure this is the best morning ever.”

And as you lay there, wrapped up in him and in the cozy warmth of your little family-in-the-making, you couldn’t help but think he might be right.

As the morning continued to unfold, the soft sounds of the baby’s breathing mixed with the occasional rustle of the sheets as you and Lando shifted to make yourselves comfortable. The sun climbed higher in the sky, filling the room with a warmth that was both cozy and invigorating.

Lando’s gaze drifted back to the baby, who had finally settled into a deeper sleep. “You know,” he said, his voice still low and sleepy, “I never thought I’d enjoy babysitting as much as I do right now.”

You chuckled softly, brushing your fingers through the baby’s soft hair. “I guess it’s different when you’re with someone who makes everything feel like an adventure.”

“Exactly,” Lando replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I think I could handle a little adventure with a baby.” He shifted slightly, reaching out to tickle the baby’s tiny foot, eliciting a small, involuntary kick. “See? I’m a natural!”

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “A natural? You’re just lucky he’s too young to complain about your dad jokes.”

“Hey, my dad jokes are legendary!” Lando protested, but there was no real bite to his words. His laughter mingled with yours, filling the room with an infectious joy that made your heart swell.

The lazy morning drifted on, the three of you wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. You eventually found your way back to each other, resting against Lando as he softly hummed a tune under his breath. It was a familiar song that had been playing in the background during countless evenings together, and it filled you with a sense of nostalgia.

“Do you remember the first time we tried babysitting?” you asked, your voice soft as you recalled the chaotic but hilarious day filled with spilled snacks and a wailing baby.

“How could I forget?” Lando replied, chuckling. “You practically had a meltdown when he wouldn’t stop crying, and I was trying to convince you that it was just a phase.”

“It was more than just a phase!” you countered playfully. “That baby had some serious lungs.”

“But you handled it like a champ,” he said, his tone turning earnest. “I knew right then that you were going to be an amazing mom someday.”

The words hung in the air, weighty and filled with meaning. You felt your cheeks flush, warmth spreading through you at his compliment. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” he affirmed, looking at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “You have this natural way with him. I can just picture it—us, in the future, juggling a couple of little ones, surrounded by laughter and chaos.��

You smiled, imagining the scene. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying, but more than anything, it filled you with a sense of hope. “That would be quite the adventure.”

“Exactly! Just imagine all the little personalities,” Lando said, his excitement palpable. “And the races! I can see it now—whoever can crawl the fastest to the toy chest wins!”

You giggled, shaking your head at the image of tiny feet scurrying across the floor, driven by the competitive spirit of their father. “They’ll probably inherit your need for speed.”

Lando pretended to be offended, clutching his heart dramatically. “How dare you! I think I’m quite well-rounded.”

“Sure,” you teased, leaning closer to him. “A little too well-rounded sometimes, if you catch my drift.”

Lando feigned indignation, his eyes widening comically. “You’re saying I’m lazy?”

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “Not lazy, just… well, strategically conserving energy.”

“Strategically conserving energy, huh?” he replied, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “I’ll accept that.”

Just then, the baby began to stir again, letting out a soft coo as he blinked his eyes open. Lando’s attention immediately shifted to him, his expression transforming into one of pure adoration. “Hey there, buddy!” he said softly, leaning in closer to the baby. “Did we wake you?”

The baby responded with a wide yawn, stretching his tiny limbs and squirming a little. You exchanged amused glances with Lando, both of you enchanted by the little one’s antics.

“Looks like he’s ready for some fun,” Lando said, scooting back against the headboard and inviting you to join him. You moved carefully, bringing the baby up to sit between you, cradled by your arms.

As you settled in, Lando began to make silly faces, exaggerating his expressions until the baby let out a delighted squeal. “See? He thinks I’m hilarious!” Lando beamed, puffing up his chest as if he had just performed a great feat.

“Maybe he just thinks you look funny,” you retorted playfully, but your heart melted at the sight of Lando completely engaged, his laughter ringing through the room.

You spent the next little while playing with the baby, taking turns making silly noises and watching as he responded with giggles and bright smiles. Each time he let out a laugh, Lando’s face lit up with pure joy, and you couldn’t help but feel the warmth spreading through your chest.

After a while, the baby grew sleepy again, his eyelids drooping as he nestled back against your chest. You gently rocked him, humming a soft lullaby that came to mind. Lando leaned against you, his fingers brushing against your arm as he watched the scene unfold.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low whisper. “You’re going to be an incredible mom.”

You felt the warmth bloom in your cheeks, your heart racing at his words. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his gaze steady. “You have this amazing ability to make everything feel safe and loved. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a mom.”

“Lando…” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you struggled to keep the emotion at bay. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy,” he said, a hint of seriousness creeping into his tone. “When you love someone, it’s easy to give everything for them.” He paused, his gaze shifting to the baby, who was now peacefully asleep in your arms. “And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share that with.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice leaving you breathless. In that moment, wrapped up in a blanket with Lando and the baby, you felt a surge of hope for the future, an understanding that this—this little family you had formed—was just the beginning.

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling a rush of affection for him.

“Anytime,” he replied, leaning over to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “Now, let’s see if we can keep this little one asleep for a little longer. I could use a few more minutes of lazy morning bliss with you.”

You smiled, your heart full as you both settled in, cocooned in warmth and love. Time slipped away, and the world outside faded as you enjoyed the simplicity of the moment—the laughter, the joy, and the shared dreams for a future that felt brighter than ever.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a gentle glow over the room, you felt that today was a day to remember. A day that promised adventure, laughter, and the sweet joy of simply being together. With Lando by your side, and a tiny bundle of joy nestled between you, you couldn’t help but feel that the best was yet to come.

The morning stretched on like the most beautiful dream, and for now, everything felt perfect.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

*:･ﾟtags;@spookbusters-jr

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mywritersmind · 7 months ago

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hellooooooo! I read yell and flight and let me tell u I was HOOKED. I cannot get fran off my mind the way this man is!!! It’s driving me wild and it’s barely been abt a week or two seeing him all over my socials👩🏻‍🦯‍➡️ I was wondering if you are still taking reqs obviously for fran? I know deep down in my bones that this man is so clingy like physically so maybe like him hugging the reader a lot like alot all the time, like long cuddle sessions just talking abt life?

xxxxxxx thx in advance

SEVEN TIMES WHEN FRANCO COULDN'T KEEP HIS HANDS TO HIMSELF - FC43

listen up : no warnings just some kissing!! this is cute so i hope you enjoy <3 franco x girlfriend!reader

word count : 1249

⋆｡‧˚⋆

When I first started dating Franco, it was obvious that his love language was physical touch. Back then however, I didn’t know how much he depended on it.

⋆༺

1. I’ve never been more excited for Franco than I was at that first race in Monza. As soon as I could, I ran to him.

He was still in his race suit, grinning that stupid smile that I so love. He was sweaty and gross and I couldn’t be happier.

“Corazón…” He wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder even as I jumped up and down.

“I’m so proud of you!” I pulled him tighter, his curls brushing my face. “That was so sick!” I pushed him back to move my hands while I spoke but his hand stayed on my waist.

He let me recount his own race back to him as he just stared at me dreamily, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He laughed and pulled me in again, kissing me this time.

People cheered and whistled as I smiled against Franco’s lips. He kept that same hand on me all day, holding me close as if the two hours he was racing for was time lost for us.

He never cared who was watching, as long as I was in his arms, nothing else mattered.

⋆༺

2. “Let’s stay here.” He mumbled into my skin, laying completely on top of me with his face on my stomach.

I laughed, running my hands through his hair, “We have to go Fran… You were the one who said we would!” He frowned up at me when I took my hands from his hair.

I slipped my hands back through his waves and he smiled happily again, wrapping his arms tighter around my waist.

I look at his arms flexing against me, “Darling…”

He frowned up at me again, making me laugh and having to physically push him off of me, “Ay no…” He groaned as I stood, smoothing out my skirt.

“Come on!” I had to walk out the door just to get Franco out of the room.

⋆༺

3. We were at a charity gala and I felt like a genuine magnet. A magnet that only attracts Franco's hands. I smirked at him, “Like what you see?” I spun around in my red dress that hit right before my black heels, his hands staying on me as I turned around.

His gaze dragged up my body, nodding silently. Franco is never silent. He gave my waist a little squeeze before kissing my cheek and pulling me into his side.

The whole night, the only time he left my side was when I went to the restroom. He was waiting with drinks when I got back, I can’t help but smile at his stupid face that looks way too happy to be buying things for me.

We ended up talking to Lando and his date, she was definitely a model and honestly I don’t know if he even knew her name. When the girl left, Lando eyed us both, “You’re making me look bad!” He ran his hand through his curls as I rested my head on Franco’s shoulder.

“Not my fault that you don’t like your date!” Franco argued and Lando pulled his lips into a thin line.

“I like her just fine! You two are just disgustingly affectionate.”

⋆༺

4. “I’m just having a hard time, Franco!” I sat on the couch, my head in my hands. We’d been fighting like this for an hour and getting nowhere.

He paced in front of me, turning to me and placing his hand on my chin so I would look up.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as tears ran down my face, sinking to his knees, “I’m so sorry… I know you though. You can get through this.” His hands moved up the outside of my thighs, holding me tight like he always does.

⋆༺

5. I could practically feel Franco’s gaze burning a hole into the man across from me’s head.

He started over to us as soon as he saw the man take a step closer. He cleared his throat, placing his hand on the small of my back as he smiled at the man.

Franco leaned closer to me and the man left in an instant. I smiled softly at him, raising a brow, “Possessive, much?”

He sipped his drink, “With you? Always.”

⋆༺

6. “You look delicious.” I laugh out loud as he says it in my ear, I turn and swat his chest. The club music was loud and the lights were even brighter.

“Franco.” He knows he’s gotten to me, a smirk prominently on his face as he takes my hand in his and pulls me gently out of the crowd.

We make it to the bathroom, one stall, before Franco has his hands on my ass and his mouth on mine. “Needy.” I mumbled into his mouth.

“No shit, have you seen yourself?” I laughed as he pushed me up against the wall, his hand slipping below the hem of my blue dress.

He slips his tongue in my mouth, cupping my face and holding onto my waist tightly. I sometimes forget he’s an actual athlete until he brings his strength into the bedroom. Or in this case… the club bathroom.

⋆༺

7. Franco sat between my legs, my hands in his hair as he intently listened to the football match that was playing.

He's talking about some of the players but I'm busy braiding his hair which is quite hard given the length.

He moved his hands away from his water bottle that he was fidgeting with, playing them on my ankles and making me shiver. His touch is effortless and sometimes I think he doesn’t even realize because he was definitely focused on the game.

His hands slid upwards, brushing over my calf then back down. He repeated this for five minutes until I finished with his partially braided hair.

The game was still playing as he slid his fingers up my legs once more, making me shiver. He didn’t even realize until I pushed my hands over his and his head leaned back to look at me.

He smiled and kissed my hand, turning around and kneeling in front of me.

I watched his muscles move as he extended his arms to wrap around my waist. He looked up at me, his green eyes shining while his hair looked like a mess. “Are you excited for today?” We were in his drivers room, his suit unzipped.

“Yes. Because you’re here.” His hand rubbed against my face softly, like he wanted to memorize every part of me.

“Do you get nervous?”

“Of course. I don’t want to mess up when you’re were.” I frowned at his words, caressing his neck.

“I don’t care what you do, love… as long as you’re safe.” He sighed and laid his head on my knees.

“You that worried?” I nodded. “I don’t want you to be.”

“Well I’m your girlfriend and it’s my job because you chose a job where your life is in danger every weekend.” He laughed at my sarcastic tone, shaking his head and kissing my knee.

“I like that you care. But I promise you corazón, you cannot get rid of me that easily.” He kissed me softly, I kissed him back.

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #franco colapinto angst #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fluff #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto x reader

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menagerofmischief · 4 months ago

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pretty tattoos -> ln4

wc: 1.2k tags: piercer!lando, cockwarming, unprotected sex, piv, part one | part two | part three

Lando’s shop was empty and quiet. Probably because it was already after working hours when you arrived, like the two of you had agreed.

After the last piercing you had gotten, Lando had indeed taken you out to dinner. And after that, the two of you were inseparable. And you couldn’t be happier.

It was after a night out that you mentioned wanting a tattoo. Immediately there was a sparkle in Lando’s eyes as he began gushing over how he hoped you would mention it because he was itching to ink your body.

After he dropped you home, laying a gentle sweet kiss to your lips before walking away, Lando had texted you the date and time of your tattoo appointment. Only if you wanted it, of course. And boy, did you want it.

Lando’s shop was a familiar place by now. Both from your own experiences and from the little visits you made just to see him. So you didn’t hesitate to get yourself comfortable as Lando prepared everything, the stencil already pressed against your skin.

Getting a sternum tattoo as your first tattoo was certainly a bold choice, you wouldn’t deny that. The room was slightly chilly, causing your exposed nipples to perk up, goosebumps raising along the skin of your arms.

“You changing your mind?” Lando asked, noticing you had gone quiet. His voice was teasing, but you knew that if you really did change your mind he would drop everything without a word.

“No,” you shook your head. “Just a bit nervous. I heard the sternum is a painful place to get a tattoo.”

“It is,” Lando agreed, smiling at you. “Don’t worry tho, I’ll keep you distracted.” he said with a wink, bringing a smile to your face.

“Oh, you’ll keep me distracted!” You teased, prompting him to laugh.

Lando finished setting the necessary material up and sat down in the chair. You looked at him, tilting your head to the side. “Isn’t that my spot?”

“Nope,” he told you, shaking his head. “Your spot is right here.” He patted his lap, his lips curled upwards in a smirk.

“How could I forget,” you smiled, walking towards him slowly. You ran your hands down his body, palms pressing against his chest before dipping lower, toying with the zipper of his pants.

You opened his pants and Lando wasted no time lifting his hips to help you slide them down his legs, the outline of his already hard cock visible in the grey material of his boxers. A wet patch was already forming on the material from where his leaky tip was positioned.

Lando took the boxers off quickly, pushing them to join his jeans. His hands grabbed your ass and he pulled your body closer, your bare legs pressing against his.

You giggled, wrapping your hand around his dick. It wasn’t your first time seeing him naked but everytime was as good as the previous. Your eyes zeroed in on his piercing, going through the tip of his cock, the metal balls shining under the led lights of the studio.

Spit dribbled down from your mouth onto his cock and you used it as lube to stroke him a few times before lifting up your skirt and climbing into his lap. The lack of pantied underneath the skirt made it all the easier to position his dick at your entrance and sink down on him, taking him fully.

“Fuck,” Lando groaned, his hands gripping your hips, both of you moaning at the sensation. His piercing pressed against your walls, adding to the stimulation. Lando’s hand caressed your back, making you arch your chest forward him.

“You ready?” He asked gently, one of his hands groping your tits, his fingers playing with your nipples and twisting your piercings.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” You replied, nodding your head at him. “You sure you can tattoo in this position?”

“Oh please,” Lando scoffed playfully. “Of course I can. Now hold on, this is gonna hurt a little.”

Lando lifted up the tattoo gun and started his work, tracking the stencil on your skin. You gasped a little at the pain, feeling your chest tighten as he worked, involuntarily clenching around him which had his breathing going shallow.

Thankfully it was a small tattoo, which meant it didn’t take much time for Lando to finish it. The whole time he kept teasing you playfully, talking about random things and cracking terrible jokes in effort to distract you from the pain, which really did work. But so did the feeling of his pulsing length buried deep inside of you.

You finally felt like you could breathe again properly when Lando finished the tattoo, putting away the machine and cleaning it up. One of his hands cupped your flushed face, his eyes meeting yours. “Looks pretty great if I do say so myself,” he told you, his eyes flicking down to the tattoo. “Now how about a reward for my best client?”

“Please,” you gasped out, your walls clenching around his dick. Lando groaned, wrapping his arms around you and standing up then pushing you onto the leather chair all while still remaining inside of you.

“Did so well,” he told you before pressing his lips down against yours in a sloppy kiss. “Took it so well, didn’t you? Now you’re gonna take my cock, yeah?”

His thrusts started slow, making you feel every inch of his hard cock, the piercing dragging against your walls, making your head spin with pleasure. One of his hands sneaked between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit fast and rubbing circles around it before he flicked your piercing, making you moan out.

The rhythm of his hips grew frantic, becoming more desperate with each thrust. After cockwarming him for what felt like hours it didn’t really take long for either of you to reach your orgasm.

“God, Lando!” You moaned, nails digging into his back as your orgasm crashed over you, triggering his own.

You both stayed still for a moment, catching your breath, then Lando pulled out slowly and used one of the previously prepared tissues to clean you up, all the while rambling about the tattoo healing process. You really couldn’t deny that he was adorable.

The two of you put your clothes back on and you waited for Lando to finish closing up the shop before you left together. “So, wanna come over to my apartment?” You asked, taking his hand in yours. “I got some great leftovers. And they’re not expired.”

He laughed, lacing his fingers with yours. “You truly know a way to my heart!”

Lando Norris had pierced his way into your life and permanently inked his place in it. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

thank you for following along the piercer!lando mini series. want more piercer!lando? send an ask and tell me your ideas. feed my need for validation and let me know if you enjoyed this one! like and reblogs are greatly appreciated as well. <3

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shrimpybbq · 8 months ago

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a meeting with the in-laws

anon: high school gf's parents coming back after they've kicked her out once the baby's born and demanding to see their “baby" and it's a whole scene

It had been three days since the newest Cameron had arrived into the world, the small baby boy kicking and screaming like a true warrior. A coked-up Rafe swore he had never seen anything so perfect as when he saw his own little boy clutched tightly within his mother’s arms, his sweet red cheeks chubby and full of life. It had taken some convincing but soon Rafe had his son against his bare chest as he softly stroked at the wisps of hair atop his head. He sat by his sleeping girlfriend’s side, quietly cooing to his son. There in that room lay his whole world, and it was then and there that Rafe made a promise to himself: no-one would hurt either of them for as long as he lived.

Rafe found his first opponents rather quickly. The small family returned to Tannyhill on the third day and began to settle back into the house, bringing their son up to the nursery they had spent hours painting. Rafe had wanted to hire someone to paint the images on the wall but had begrudgingly agreed to help his girlfriend paint them herself when she began tearing up in front of him. They had decided on a space themed nursery after Sarah suggested it. As they settled the sleeping boy in his cot, a loud knock echoed across the property. The new parents ignored it, only to hear mumbled voices from the foyer grow louder and louder. It was with a start that Rafe looked up, his bicep being clutched tightly.

“My parents…they’re here!” she whispered anxiously, her eyes widening as she looked up at him for help, “they told me that I was dead to them Rafe!”

Rafe looked at his sweet girl, taking her into his arms as she began to tremble, hands running soothingly over her back. “Hey, it’s ok. It’s gonna be ok, alright? You’ve got me here and I-I’m not gonna let them treat you like shit, ok,” he muttered. Rafe watched her pull away from him slowly, giving him a small nod as she wiped away the tears that had managed to spill over. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head and whispered encouragingly “you can do this, baby.”

As they made their way down the stairs, it was clear that the Cameron’s did not take kindly to the familiar family standing in their living room. Rafe and Sarah were the two most obvious in their distaste, each wearing matching grimaces and glares. They both watched as her mother immediately ran to hug her daughter,

“Oh sweetie, there you are! My baby all grown up with her own baby - oh I’m so proud of you.”

Rafe watched as his girlfriend stood stiffly in her arms, a distraught expression crossing her face at the words. He couldn’t help but grit his teeth - he had watched as she cried for weeks after her parents kicked her out, her heart broken as they refused to answer her calls. They’d removed her existence from their lives for nine months and now here they were, claiming to love her again? No, that wouldn’t do, Rafe thought.

“Are you, though?” Rafe bit out. He grinned as all eyes turned sharply to him.

“Of course we are, our daughter has given us a strong and healthy grandchild. Why wouldn’t we be?” Her father asked, his tone filled with a certain menacing quality that both Rafe and Ward picked up on. The former ignored his father’s warning glance as he continued to speak.

“What about when you kicked her out, pregnant and alone with no money? Hmm, yeah I thought you’d remember that,” he spat, watching a flicker of shame cross the older woman’s face.

“Rafe that’s en-”

“No, come on Dad, you saw what they did to her, to my son. They didn’t give a shit until he was born, isn’t that right?”

All in the room stood in silence as the tension became so thick it could swallow them whole. It was only the audacity of her father that shattered the silence, “we want to see him.”

Fuck no, Rafe thought. He watched as his girlfriend scampered to his side, her eyes looking up at him pleading. They’d spoken often about her parents and had come to an agreement to keep them away from their family, not trusting their intentions should they come back. Almost imperceptibly, Rafe nodded towards her, a firm squeeze to her hip confirming he understood what she wanted.

“No.”

“W-what did you say to me, boy?”

“I said no. You’re not coming near my son, or my girl, now get the fuck off my property, alright?”

Ward looked between his son and the other grandfather, sighing deeply before coming towards his old friend. He spoke lowly, the rest of the room unaware of their words. It was only when both men turned back to the face their children did they speak.

“You must be very overwhelmed with all those hormones right now, sweetheart. You aren’t in your right mind,” Rafe heard her father say, fists clenching at the audacity he had, “we will come and see you next week. Maybe you could be alone next time.”

The Cameron’s wordlessly watched as Ward escorted her family to their cars. They turned back to see Rafe comforting his girlfriend, her head buried into his chest as she sobbed. Rafe stood there as his blood rushed through his body, his heart pumping rapidly in his chest. This was his first experience being a parent - of feeling a sense of unwavering protectiveness come over him. He knew then that his promise to himself in that hospital chair would never be broken, for he would do everything in his power to keep his family safe. No one would ever hurt them, and as he slowly walked his sweet crying girl back to the nursery, he knew he would kill to keep them safe.

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b1eedthefreak · 1 month ago

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Sweet Dreams

daryl x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, sleepy/subby reader, thigh riding, overstimulation, crying (from pleasure), soft dom Daryl, lots of praise, aftercare, tenderness, use of pet names (good girl, baby, i think sweet girl i forgot)

⸻

The night was quiet. Crickets chirped low outside, and the wind creaked against the windows. Daryl lay still in bed, one arm slung across your waist, the slow rhythm of your breathing brushing over his bare chest. You were warm, curled up next to him, dead asleep… or so he thought.

Until he felt it.

A tiny shift at first. Then again. The slide of your hips against his thigh.

His eyes shot open.

“…Baby?”

He whispered it low, voice still thick with sleep. He felt your body shudder faintly in his arms—your breathing shaky now, your forehead pressed into his shoulder, your fingers gripping at his side.

He blinked a few times, brain struggling to register what the hell was going on.

And then it hit him.

You were riding his thigh. In your sleep. Little, slow, desperate rolls of your hips, your panties damp against his bare skin. Fuck. His whole body tensed, but not in shock. He had to grit his teeth to keep himself still, watching your face crumple into the softest pout.

You were whimpering. Not sad. Needy.

His poor girl, dreaming about him and chasing it in your sleep.

Daryl’s hand trailed slowly up your back, petting gently, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Sweetheart… that what you need, huh?”

You didn’t wake. Just kept going, a little faster now, your thighs trembling from the effort. He could feel the heat soaking through his thigh and it made his cock twitch in his boxers.

He couldn’t help it, he lifted his leg just a little, angling it right where you needed, guiding your hips with one hand.

“There ya go baby… that better?” he whispered, pressing kisses into your hair. “Get yourself off, darlin’. Use me however you want…”

You whimpered again, one broken little sob of need, and your fingers clawed into his chest.

Then you gasped.

Eyes fluttered open—wide and glossy—and you froze. Cheeks burning. You were mortified.

“D-Daryl—wait, I—I didn’t mean to—” You were panting, dazed and shaky, but too close now to stop. “I—fuck—I was so close—”

Daryl cut you off with a soft hush, cupping your cheek.

“I know, baby. S’okay. You ain’t gotta stop now.” He sat up just enough to hold you better, dragging your hips forward. “Let me help you finish, yeah? You were doin’ so good without me, but I gotcha now…”

You whined at the contact, body jerking forward as his hands gripped your hips and started rocking you against his thigh again, this time rougher—deeper.

“Daryl—please,” you choked, tears welling in your eyes from how fucking close you were again already.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Rub that needy little pussy all over me,” he muttered, nose buried in your neck. “Take what you need. Make a mess on me.”

That was it.

You shattered.

Your whole body locked up, back arching as the orgasm hit, soaking through your panties, your cries muffled into his shoulder while your thighs shook around him.

“There ya go, baby,” he praised, holding you through it. “Such a good girl… makin’ a mess for me, just like that…”

You sobbed softly, overwhelmed, heart racing.

Daryl held you close, gently easing your spent body down into the sheets. He kissed your face, your cheeks, your lips, every tear. His fingers brushed your hair back.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded, sniffling. “Mhm… sorry…”

“Nah,” he whispered. “Don’t be. You can use me anytime you want, baby. I’ll always take care’a ya.”

He tucked you into his chest, thigh still slick where you’d ridden it, and hummed against your forehead.

Within seconds, you were already asleep again.

And Daryl just smiled.

“Goodnight,” he muttered, pulling the blanket up around you both.

⸻

a/n i have two more daryl smuts sitting in my drafts should i post them guys erm

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon smut #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #norman reedus

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angstywaifu · 3 months ago

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No Strings Attached - Garrick Tavis

Request: reader is fwb with Garrick you could even include some spice and they start to fall for each other but they’re not exclusive so one night she sees him talking to another girl and she feels extremely hurt seeing it. then she decides to ice him out and branch out to hang out with other people and he sees her talk to another guy and gets really jealous and feels very possessive. and then they get into a massive angsty fight Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Unprotected Sex (P in V). Angst and fighting. Jealousy.

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“Cmon sweetheart, just one more. For me.” Garrick whispers in my ear as his fingers dig into my hips as he guides me up and down on his length.

As per usual, Garrick was determined to get another one out of me. This would be the fourth? No, fifth? Fuck, I had no idea. My brain all foggy from the amount of times he’d pulled another orgasm from me. He was addicted to pulling them from me, and I was addicted to the way he made me felt.

The familiar knot in my stomach tightens again as I dig my nails into his shoulder as my lead lulls forward. Garrick notices the shift, grabbing tightly onto my waist as he holds me up, slamming his hips into mine hard and fast. I barely had time to process what was coming as I shatter in his arms, my whole weight resting in Garrick’s hands as I go limp. Eyes rolling back into my head, mouth open in a silent moan as my legs tremble either side of his. I feel Garrick shudder beneath me, his thrusts faltering as he comes undone beneath me.

He gathers me in his arms rolling us to the side as he lays my head down on my pillow, whimpering at the loss of him as he removes himself from me. I barely register him cleaning me up and tucking me into bed as I fall victim to my exhaustion and fall asleep.

The next day it’s back to normal. Everyone none the wiser to how Garrick and I had spent most of our night as we walk the halls the next day. Which is how I wanted it. Garrick and I were just friends. Friends who hooked up a few times a week. An arrangement that worked for both of us since it had started last year. No strings attached, no feelings and no exclusivity. Though neither of us had hooked up with anyone else despite this.

”Quinn and I are having a girls night in her room, did you want to come?” Imogen asks me as we leave the gym, both of us in desperate need of a shower after the training session we had just done.

I turn my head to look at her and tell her I’m in, but two figures behind her across the courtyard near the Rotunda catch my eyes. Imogen turns to look, both of us watching Garrick as he leans up against the wall talking to girl in second wing. I watch as he raises a hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. I don’t miss the way she tips her head downwards slightly, and I’d bet any money she’s blushing. I instantly see red. Wanting to march over there and pull her away from him, tell her to stay away. I shouldn’t feel like this. I shouldn’t want to do that. We were just friends. Friends who slept together. Nothing more. Why the hell did I feel like this?

”Sorry, I’ve got plans.” I tell her in the most monotone voice I’ve heard leave my lips as I turn and make my way to the dorms.

Another year done and over. Thank god. I’d been craving a drink since seeing Garrick talking to that girl two weeks ago. Since then I’d been avoiding him, which was pretty easy considering we’d all been sent away for War Games for five days and we were in different Wings. But since that night I’d opted to hanging out with my squad, mainly Imogen and Quinn. Something I knew Garrick had noticed as Imogen had told me Garrick had asked about me after I’d walked off when he’d approached our group at challenges. Even now I can feel his eyes on me across the room. It was not like me to ignore him like this, but I honestly couldn’t trust me feelings.

Movement next to me pulls me from my thoughts, one of the first year repeats sitting next to me. I remembered him from the start of the year. The scattering of freckles across his face had always stood out to me. He’d been apart of our squad till he hadn’t been chosen at Threshing. Which was a shame, from what Quinn and Imogen had told me he was one of the best in our squad.

”How was war games?” He asks me as he fills up his cup from one of the pitchers from the middle of the table.

”Tiring as usual. There’s only one time of year I will ever have thoughts on wanting to be back here, and that’s war games.” I tell him with a smile as he fills up my now empty cup.

We fall into conversation easily, laughing and telling stories and jokes. Something I had missed during the last week. And it was nice to be talking to someone new. Something to take my mind off what had happened. Though it’s not long before my mind wanders back as a tall looming figure hovers behind me, casting a shadow over me and onto the cadet I now know as Sawyer. I watch as his eyes widen as he looks behind me. A look I associated very well with Garrick.

”We need to talk.” He growls out from behind me.

I can practically feel the anger rolling off him against my back. I can see how worried Sawyer looks. Yeah, he was pissed.

”What do you want to talk about?” I toss over my shoulder before chugging the rest of my drink, definitely needing more alcohol in my system to deal with whatever was about to happen.

”In private.”

I turn and look at him. Yep. He was pissed. His eyes are narrowed at me, his jaw ticking from the strain of clenching it. Great. I tear my gaze from his, standing and pushing past him as I head towards the door, leaving Sawyer behind. I push through the door leading into the rotunda, barely making it a few steps before Garrick grabs my arm.

”What the hell was that?” He snaps, gesturing back towards the dining hall.

”Really? I could be asking you the same about you and the cadet a few weeks back in the courtyard.” I snap back as I gesture towards the door leading towards the courtyard.

His brow furrows as he looks towards where I point. “What are you talking about?”

Anger flares with in me. “That blonde who you had in the courtyard a few nights before War Games started. Tucking her hair behind her ear as she blushed and giggled at you.”

”So that’s why you’ve been ignoring me.” He drawls in a monotone voice.

”I haven’t been ignoring you. We’ve been away at War Games if you hadn’t noticed.” I retort as I walk a few steps away, needing to clear my head of the anger that was raging through me.

”Says the one who has walked away whenever I’ve joined the group and has been mysteriously absent from my bed.” He states as he walks over and steps in front of me.

”What do you want Garrick? Want me to confess that even though this isn’t technically exclusive that I’m a little jealous you start showing interest in another girl for the first time since this started happening? That maybe I realised I need to put some space between us and put effort into my other friends or find some new ones?” My voice echoing around the empty rotunda as I glare up at him.

”Please he didn’t want to be your friend.” He scoffs at me.

”Well I wouldn’t know because you couldn’t resist playing possessive guard dog after I start talking to a guy that isn’t you!” My voice cracks at the end, a tear rolling down my cheek that Garrick’s hazel eyes track.

”Trust me, there’s only one things guys want from girls in here.” Garrick looming over me as he takes a step towards me.

I scoff and shake my head at me. “Yeah, I’m starting to see that. Hope she can warm your bed till she also figures that out.”

”Sweethe-”

”Don’t. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” I snap at him before turning and storming back into the rowdy dining hall, wiping away another tear that rolls down my cheek.

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #the fourth wing #garrick tavis #fourth wing imagine #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing x reader #garrick tavis smut #fourth wing smut

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sturnsdarling · 1 month ago

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I can make you feel better

Chris has been in a mood all day, and theres only one thing that will get him out of it

vibe check: giving moody!chris head (somebody sedate me), angst?, fluff

1.5k words

A/N: this fic won the poll so this is my gift to you guys. moody!chris is my sweetie baby and i love him, okay love u bye

love and cigs, merc

Chris had been in a terrible mood all day, from the moment he woke up to now as he huffed his way around the house, storming down the stairs and slamming his door shut, startling you as you laid mindlessly scrolling in his bed.

He pushed his boots off and headed straight for the bathroom, doing nothing more than shooting you a forced smile as he walked past you sprawled out on his bed. The shower turned on, and you stared at the white wooden door, the skin of the inside of your mouth locked between your teeth. you hated it when Chris got in a mood like this, not because of anything other than the fact that you knew he hated the feeling of being miserable, especially if there wasn't a specific reason.

He'd barely spoken a word to you since he woke up, telling you he was going to be filming all day and that if you wanted to hang around you could. you practically lived at his by this point so, you being there wasn't a hinderance to anyone, and you knew that when he got home, he'd need you. so you stayed.

The shower water shut off and after a moment he padded out the bathroom, slightly wet with his hair hanging over his face and a towel round his waist. He walked over to his dresser, aggressively opening the drawer and pulling a pair of calvins out just before putting them on. He used his towel to dry his hair slightly, rubbing it over his head with a flat palm and a scrunched face. you couldn't help but watch him, his energy so hollow he was almost unrecognisable.

you shifted to your side of the bed slightly as you watched him pad over to the bed, preparing to slump down into his sheets. he hit the bed with a huff, laying face down in his pillow as he let out a long, deep groan. your hand came to his back, and you started to trace small circles around the freckles littered across his skin.

"you okay, my love?" you said softly.

he said nothing, only hummed.

"do you wanna talk about it?" you pressed, moving your hand up to his hair to twirl his wet curls around your finger

he shook his head into his pillow, shifting into your touch slightly.

you continued peppering gentle touches all over his skin, his body visibly relaxing under your presence. he scooted over slightly, taking his long arm and wrapping it round your waist, using his grip on you to pull you under him, burying his face in your stomach.

you complied with his silent instructions and let him manoeuvre you under him, "whats up, Chris, you're so quiet"

"I said I don't wanna talk about it" Chris snapped, talking into your skin

you recoiled, "I'm just trying to help" you said, defensively

"well, don't" he said, still putting his full weight down on you, his actions needy but his tone annoyed.

you huffed, not bothering to reply, knowing you'll only get shut down again.

Chris let out a deep sigh into your skin, shifting slightly to hold himself up, looking at your offended features.

"i'm sorry, baby" he said, placing his large, soft hand to your cheek, "I'm just having a really shit day"

"so then talk to me, tell me whats wrong" you cooed, pressing your cheek into his hand.

"theres nothing to talk about" he shook his head, "It's just one of those days" he shrugged, dropping his gaze from yours, tone still flat and somewhat annoyed.

you furrowed your brows, watching as he sunk back into you.

your slight annoyance at him quickly faded, being replaced by sympathy. it was rare Chris got into a mood he couldn’t get himself out of, so him being so visibly wound up was agonising to watch. Normally you’d let him talk it out or leave him alone until he felt better but, neither of those felt like viable options tonight so, you settled for a different method to make his bad day a little better.

"I can make you feel better, if you want me to?" you said, tracing slightly firmer touches up and down his back as you did.

"how?" he mumbled into your skin, after a brief pause

you smiled, shifting out from under him and telling him to lay on his back. He complied with a huff, laying his head down into his pillow with a deadpan face that quickly changed when you crawled on top of him.

"I'm not in the mood for sex right now, baby" he said, almost speaking into your mouth as you went to kiss him

"who said anything about sex, moody boy?" you hummed before placing a tender kiss on his pouty lips.

he kissed you back on reflex, only for you to break the kiss as you began to litter pecks over his cheeks, down his jaw to his neck. he let out a small sigh that sounded like relief, relaxing into the bed as you worked your way down his body, back arched, giving him a view of your ass as you kissed down his neck, over his chest and down his stomach.

his breathing got heavier as you began to place open mouth kisses along the line of his boxers, his head falling back slightly as your fingers dipped under the band, tugging them down to kiss around the base of his stiffening cock. you hummed at the sight of his dick slapping against his stomach, a twinge of pride in your chest at how easy it was for you to get him hard.

you helped him out his boxers, leaving him bare as you threw them across the room. you placed small pecks up his shaft, kissing his tip with a press of your tongue when you reached it. Chris' stomach tensed at the feeling, a small whimper leaving his throat as he locked eyes with you from your low position on his bed.

"I'm gonna make you feel all better, okay, Chris?" you said, your voice low and seductive as you began to pump his hard cock in your hand.

Chris nodded, his moodiness being replaced by an ere of desperation as you tore your gaze from his, looking down to his cock with a small smile just before licking a long stripe up the shaft.

a long, breathy moan left Chris' mouth, his head fully resting back into the pillow as you wrapped your lips around his tip, collecting the pre-cum on your tongue, using it as extra lubrication to push him down into your throat slowly.

you began bobbing your head, using one hand to pump him slightly as you worked his tip, lapping at it in your warm, hollow mouth. Chris was already a mess, his hand tangled in your hair as he moaned and groaned, his stomach tensing at the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him.

"you're so good to me, ma" he whimpered, "what did I do to deserve you?"

you took him all the way down your throat, locking eyes with him as you did, pushing him as far down as you could take it. the feeling of your throat constricting around his tip ripped a guttural moan from him, using your hair as a squeeze toy as you began to fuck your own throat with his cock.

"oh, fuck" he groaned, his grip still tight in your hair but letting you control the pace.

you began to bob your head up and down once more, bringing a soft hand to his constricting balls, cupping them in your palm and caressing them with gentle touches.

Chris couldn't control the noises that were leaving his throat, and it was making you feel crazy. you loved having him like his, pleasing him just how you knew he liked, making all his worries wash away with nothing but your gentle care and warm mouth. you set a steady pace, working his cock with your hollowed mouth and soft touches. you felt his balls tighten in your hand, listening to his murmured praises as they slipped from his mouth effortlessly.

"you're so good, baby, so good to me" he cooed, "you're gonna make me - gonna make me cum"

you hummed around his cock, keeping your steady pace for a moment just before picking it up, taking a brief pause to collect your spit, letting it drop down onto his tip before wrapping your mouth back around him.

"fuuuck" he drew out, his hips involuntarily bucking up into your mouth as he chased his high

"can I cum in y’mouth, please ma, let me cum in your perfect mouth" he wined, hips still bucking up into your throat as you locked eyes, nodding around his cock.

with a tight stomach and a loud, uncontrollable moan of your name, he unloaded his cum into your mouth, fucking his load into your throat as he stuttered and shivered at the feeling. you kept your mouth around him until you felt his balls relax, pushing your head down to his pelvis once more before pulling off him completely, swallowing his warm cum with a smile.

Chris returned your smile, shaking his head with a low groan at the sight of you happily swallowing his load, any semblence of a bad mood suddenly gone from his being. he held out a hand to you, welcoming you onto his chest. you complied, crawling back up to him before tucking yourself under his arm. Chris tutted, grabbing your face with a strong hand and making you kiss him. it was passionate and caring, his way of saying thank you.

you hummed into the kiss, only pulling away when Chris did.

"do you feel better?" you smiled, batting your lashes at him.

Chris nodded, "so much better, baby" he said, just before placing another short kiss on your upturned lips, “thankyou”

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour @sofieeeeex @ncm9696 @lovesturni0l0s @pepsicola-pussy @ifwdominicfike @dani-sturn @stupendousjellyfishpost @aesthetixhoe @sturn-rose @mattsnronebitch @chriscorqutte @elizasturn @ribread03 @st7rnioioss @maggieflms

#©sturnsdarling #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader

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lovemomhatepolice · 6 months ago

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slice of paradise - lando norris

navigation taglist requests

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, p in v, blowjob, handjob, unprotected sex! (protect yourself), slight!public sex, English is my second language!

type: smut with the plot, fluff also

word count: 3,5k

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER

summary: moments in paradise on Lando's 25th birthday turn out to be even hotter than the weather in Bora Bora

more content: formula 1 masterlist, lando norris masterlist, latest lando's one-shot

The gentle golden rays of the morning sun streamed in through the open balcony door, casting a soft glow across the room. The sound of waves rhythmically crashing on the shore filled the air, mingling with the smell of the salty ocean breeze. Lando slowly woke up, blinking and looking at his surroundings. They had arrived in Bora Bora last night, and aside from eating the dinner the girl had ordered especially for a pre-birthday surprise, they had no energy for more activity and simply went to sleep. The flight from England had exhausted them both enough.

Lando blinked a few more times, letting his eyes get used to the light coming into their room, through the fact that they had not closed the curtains yesterday. He could hear the soft rustling of palm trees outside and the faint chirping of distant birds greeting the new day. For a while he just lay there, savoring the sound of the ocean and the softness of the bed beneath him. His gaze fell to his side, where his girlfriend lay snuggled into him, breathing quietly and rhythmically. The boy smiled to himself and placed a kiss on her head. He didn't want to wake her up, but, as usual, that didn't work out, and just a moment later he could see her eyes gazing lazily but happily into his blue irises.

"Morning" he said, smiling from ear to ear.

She blinked sleepily before her gaze settled on Lando, a sleepy smile spreading across her lips. “Good morning,” she whispered, her voice still husky with sleep. “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thanks, love,” he replied, leaning in to brush a soft kiss on her forehead. “I couldn’t have asked for a better start to my day.”

“All the best for you,” muttered the girl, lightly moving towards him and kissing him on the lips.

Smiling, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him so that she was now sitting on his lap. Lando held her firmly but gently around the waist so she wouldn't fall, and rubbed his palms against her sides. “Thank you for this.”

“You don't have anything to thank me for yet, Lan” the girl said stroking his bare chest. “The day has just begun”

The couple spent an even longer moment in bed, laughing and talking to each other about the silliest little things. Lando couldn't stop admiring her; even with tumbled hair and sleepy eyes, she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. And while Bora Bora had delighted him like no other landscape before, she took his breath away every time.

The girl leaned in to kiss him, gently stroking his jaw, which was covered with a small stubble. Lando felt that he could stay in bed all day because of this, and it would still be the best birthday of his life. However, his girlfriend had other plans and got out of bed, leaving her boyfriend groaning, not wanting her to leave him. Or at least not so soon.

“Wait,” she said, standing at the door in just her underwear shirt. “We'll start the surprises.”

Lando merely nodded and lay back on the pillows, listening to the sounds that came from the kitchen. It wasn't long until the girl came back into the room again. In her hand was a large tray with a bowl of fruit, freshly baked croissants and orange juices. Lando only smiled under his breath at this. Never before had anyone brought him breakfast in bed.

“Will you close your eyes?” the girl asked, putting the tray down on the bedside table.

“What for?” asked the boy dumbfoundedly, looking at his girlfriend.

But who would he be if he didn't do what she asked? He certainly wouldn't be himself. Therefore, just a moment later, he closed his eyes, smiling under his breath to himself.

[Y.N] didn't wait a moment and grabbed a small cake with “25” candles in her hand and walked back into their shared bedroom, singing “Happy Birthday.” Lando immediately opened his eyes and laughed out loud.

“You're spoiling me,” he teased as she climbed back into bed next to him. “But I'm not complaining.”

“Make a wish, birthday boy.”

Lando pretended to ponder the wish for a long moment, but it was not true at all. He had everything he wanted. A beautiful woman by his side who loved him beyond life. A second place in the drivers' championship, which was still a mystery as to how it would end. And he also had temporary peace of mind, which he regained after a long battle with his own psyche. So he just closed his eyes, blowing out the candles, and a smile crept onto his lips.

“What was your wish?” the girl asked, carefully removing the candles from the cake.

“I can't say, because it won't come true,” Lando laughed and scooped some cream onto his finger, tasting it. “Mm, did you bake it yourself?”

“No, not this time,” she replied, pounting slightly. “It wouldn't have survived the trip.”

“It's ok, it's good too,” he said, pulling her closer to him. He grabbed a fork in his hand, which was lying next to cake on a plate, and scooped up some on it. “Would you like to try?”

“Yup, we'll see if it tastes as good as it looks.”

Lando merely nodded and put the fork in her mouth. As the girl savored the chocolate taste of the cake, Lando dipped the fork into the cake again, but this time it landed on the girl's nose. Accidentally, of course.

“Oops?”

“Lando!” she laughed, but before she could wipe the cream off her nose, the boy did it for her.

“Oh, I think you're still dirty here,” he muttered, touching her lips with his thumb.

“Oh, really?” she asked teasingly. “And what are we going to do about it?”

“I think I have an idea,” Lando said, putting the cake back on the nightstand.

[Y.N] looked adoringly at her boyfriend. Lando looked even better than usual in this light. The golden rays of the sun that streamed into their room perfectly illuminated his year-tanned figure. There was a glow reflected in his eyes, and the girl could have sworn that for the first time in a long time she saw such peace in them. He was in just his boxers, because that was the most comfortable way for him to sleep, and his curls in a freshly cut mullet lay in every direction. But that was the most beautiful thing about that moment, that's what she wanted to give him from the beginning when she thought about what she could organize for his birthday. Tranquility and privacy, the things he missed most.

“Are you enjoying what you're looking at?” Lando laughed, correcting himself slightly in his position.

“You don't even know how much.”

The couple smiled at each other, and just a moment later Lando landed in the girl's embrace. [Y.N] hold him by the neck, hugging him tightly to herself. And Lando hovered over her, holding her around the waist, then by her hips. The laughs and kisses were endless. In the end, it could only be them…

~~ After breakfast, they wasted no time. They quickly changed into bathing suits and took the most necessary things with them to the beach, which was right next to their cottage. And most importantly, it was private and no human being could see them from a distance of a several dozen kilometers.

Lando stood up to his knees in the turquoise water, with the waves crashing against his legs. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of the sun on his skin and the soothing sound of the ocean. He could have sworn that he could have sat in the water all day and wouldn't have been bored at all.

“Do you like it?” asked [Y.N], suddenly joining him in the water.

“Yes, it's perfect,” he muttered, turning to face her. “Come on, let's cool off a bit.”

Lando began to swim further away from the shore, followed by [Y.N]. The water was perfect. Not only was it just the right temperature after a long sunbath, it was also a beautiful color through which you could see the bottom. As they waded deeper, the gentle waves lapped at their bodies.

“It's so beautiful here,” the girl muttered, swimming up to Lando.

[Y.N] put her hands on his shoulders, and without hesitation he pulled her to him by the waist. Lando couldn't take his eyes off her; she looked like a goddess, her smile brighter than the sun. With a grin, he suddenly scooped her up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips.

“And what do you plan to do now that you’ve got me?”

Lando’s grip tightened around her, his fingers pressing into the curve of her back. “I think I’ll keep you here for a bit,” he murmured, his voice a mix of playful and husky as he dipped his head to kiss her shoulder, trailing soft kisses up her neck. [Y.N]'s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his slow kisses, each one leaving a trail of heat on her skin.

They stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other, until [Y.N] pulled back with a playful glint in her eyes. “Catch me if you can!” she declared before wriggling out of his grasp and splashing away.

Lando laughed, momentarily stunned, but the challenge in her voice spurred him on. “You won't get away that easily! - he called out, sprinting after her as she rushed down the beach. The sand was hot under his feet, but he barely noticed, focusing entirely on the girl in front of him.

The girl was fast, but she couldn't beat her boyfriend, not in speed. Within seconds Lando caught up with her and they both collapsed on the soft sand. Out of breath and laughing, they rolled in the sand for a while, like children.

“You catch me,” she said between sighs, with her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining with joy.

“I always have and I always will.” - He replied, leaning in to kiss her.

This time the kiss was slower, deeper, as if time had no meaning there. The girl's hands slid into his damp hair, gently tugging at the ends as she arched her back, pressing their bodies closer together.

Lando's hands roamed her body, feeling the warmth of her sun-moistened skin under his fingertips. He slipped one of his hands under her bathing suit and clamped his palm over her breast, teasing an already hard nipple. The girl purred into his mouth, apparently asking for more.

“You're so beautiful,” whispered Lando, his voice muffled by her greedy mouth.

She didn't want to pull away from him, finally having him all to herself. Without the nitty-gritty world of the media and the fight for the Championship. Here he was simply Lando, not Lando Norris the Mclaren driver. And while she loved every version of him, the domestic one was her favorite.

The girl let out a quiet moan as his lips descended on her neck. He kissed and nibbled at the places he knew were most sensitive to her. Her fingers tightened again on his hair as she tilted her head back, giving him better access.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice barely exceeding a whisper. “I want you…”

“Here? - He teased her. “Someone could see it.”

“It's a good thing we're alone then.” - She replied with a smile. “I booked this place for a reason.”

“Clever beast,” he laughed under his breath.

“Mhm,” she whispered, bringing their lips together again. “It's your birthday, so you'll be spoiled.”

Before Lando had time to respond the girl turned them around so that now it was the boy who was lying with his back on the sand. He laughed under his breath and propped his head up with his hands, leaning on them.

With the utmost fierceness, she touched his dick through his swim trunks, at which the boy sighed and drew her close, bringing their lips together in a clumsy kiss. [Y.N] palmed him through his shorts, sliding her hand under them. Lando was already hard, he didn't need much when she was next to him. “Already hard, all for me,” she muttered into his lips and moved away from him. She placed kisses all over his warm chest, which at that moment was terribly heated from the sun. And Lando did not take his eyes off her. Until her lips kissed his length through his shorts. Then involuntarily his head flew back, and he let out an impatient moan. [Y.N] didn't keep him in suspense for long and practically immediately took off the unnecessary clothes and momentarily moved her hand over his cock, while kissing him gently there. “I'm begging you,” he muttered, pushing his hips out slightly to meet her. "No teasing" “Wait, birthday boy, I want to give you as much pleasure as possible,” she muttered at his tip, which was already dripping with pre cum. Lando didn't have to ask for long. Her lips were immediately on his, showering him with kisses. As she teased him with her hand, she placed tender kisses on his inner thighs. But today she didn't want to tease him, not on his birthday.

She immediately returned to his length, taking him all the way into her mouth. Her lip gloss left shiny traces on him, but no one seemed to mind. Lando was a groaning mess beneath her and thanked the gods that no one can hear or saw them.

“Fuck, [Y.N]” he groaned, combing her hair gently. The girl continued sucking on his hard member, her tongue moving nimbly, testing his cum. She bobbed her head up and down, varying the speed so as to give him as much pleasure as possible. Her hands quickly found a place - one on his testicles and the other holding his hand.

She knew he was close. She could feel it when his dick began to pulsate pleasantly in her mouth as she sucked harder on it. Lando didn't give much thought to it either as he just stroked her hair, and only her name fell out of his mouth like a mantra. He wasn't ashamed of it, he knew who made him feel as good as he never had in his life, and he wanted her to know too. “Cum for me pretty boy,” she whispered, sucking him. She looked at him from under her long lashes and their gazes met. And here Lando was lost. In the blink of an eye, the girl felt his cum in her throat and mouth, which filled it completely. The girl swallowed it all and suck him for a while longer to help him come down from his orgasm. “Fuck, that was so good,” Lando muttered and pulled his girl to him, unhesitatingly connecting their lips. The kiss was hot, full of passion. Their hands roamed the other's body. Lando didn’t wait any longer and began to remove her bikini, which was then even more unnecessary than usual. He changed their position so that now he was on top of her, supporting himself with his hands on the sand next to her body. “I guess it's my turn now, huh?” he murmured into her mouth and was already about to descend, but [Y.N] stopped him. “I don't need it, it's enough for me when you're inside me,” she kissed him, nipping on his lip.

"You sure?" he asked, looking at her.

The girl only nodded, smiling encouragingly at him. They were both already out of breath and damn near overheated, but they didn't want to leave this beach for anything.

As if on cue, Lando moved his member closer to her, teasing her pussy with his tip. Their liquids mingled together, to which the boy moaned, being offered this sight. Oh, she was the whole world to him. And when they were together, the rest of the world might not have existed at all. Lando positioned himself with his dick at the entrance [Y.N] and slowly but smoothly entered her, feeling the familiar warmth around his member. They both moaned, getting used to the feeling. They hadn't made love to each other in quite a while due to lack of time, so this was even more sensual and desired. “You're perfect,” he muttered, moving his hips more and more smoothly. His movements were precise, he knew exactly what was most pleasurable for them. He knew her body like no one else. And he could swear he knew it better than his own, or at least he wanted to know it more. “Lando,” she moaned, extending her hands to him. The boy immediately fell into her embrace, changing the angle at which they were now having sex. And it was even better for them, because every time Lando hit that right spot. His hand tangled in her hair, while the other touched her clit to give her even more pleasure. [Y.N] hugged his neck with one hand, and with the other she played with her nipples, which at that moment were all hard. Their lips met in a searing kiss, every now and then separated by their moans and smiles. Lando felt that they were close, so he sped up even more, and the girl pushed her hips toward him. At that moment, they loved each other harder than ever. They were both hot from the sun, breathless, and their hair looked like the biggest tussle. Their bodies were merging together at a dizzying pace, making a bloody mess all around. But they didn't give a damn. They didn't give a damn what was going on behind their backs. In their apartment. Among the fans or other drivers. It was their time, and they would give anything to keep it that way forever. Without the slightest change.

"You're taking me so well, like always" he murmured against her lips, smiling cheeky.

Lando's words and their gazes meeting again accelerated the orgasm from which they were only seconds away. The pressure inside them grew with every second, and they just snuggled into each other, smiling like fools. Lando pressed her clit harder and with his thumb rubbed it properly as she needed. “You are so good to me,” the girl muttered, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I love you so much,” Lando said, smacking her a few times on the lips. And with that, they both came. Their bodies were pierced by the jolt of orgasm, and Lando continued to move inside her, letting all the cum stay inside. And then he sank down on top of her, trying to do it as gently as possible. He kissed her sensitive breasts, which had not received enough attention from him during intercourse. And [Y.N] stroked his back, drawing slight marks. “You know I couldn't have imagined a better birthday?” Lando whispered, pulling slightly away from her chest to look into her eyes. Their gazes met again in that gaze that only they knew. And which was reserved for just the two of them. All that could be heard in the background were seagulls and waves crashing on the shore. The air was filled with the sea breeze and the smell of colorful flowers that grew somewhere nearby. “Well, maybe they would be even better if there were three of us here,” he muttered again, looking deeper into her eyes. They both knew he spoke sincerely. That's what they both wanted, too - to start a family, to relax a bit in a homey corner of their Monaco's apartment. No chasing, just them and the fruit of their love.

And what was their surprise when a month later [Y.N] discovered two lines on her pregnancy test before New Year's Eve...

Well, the wish seems to have come true?

[TO BE CONTINUED]

A/N: I guess it didn't turn out so bad, right? happy birthday to our pretty boy landhinio!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

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scoupsakakitty · 3 months ago

Note

Hi! Not sure if you accept requests but in case you do, can we see all members of svt getting pleasantly surprised when their 14th member is clingy & cuddly because she’s tired? 🥹

Thank you! 💎

Sleepy Snuggles | Seventeen x 14thMember | fluff

Y/N wasn’t usually the clingy type. Sure, she had her moments of affection, but in a group as big as Seventeen, physical touch was something everyone had different levels of comfort with. She’d gotten used to high-fives with Hoshi, playful shoves from Mingyu, and the occasional pat on the head from Woozi when he was feeling extra fond. But outright snuggling? That wasn’t something the boys expected from their 14th member.

Which is why they were all pleasantly surprised when one particularly exhausting day led to a whole new side of Y/N.

It had been a long day of dance practice. Seventeen was preparing for their comeback, and that meant grueling hours in the studio, rehearsing until their limbs felt like jelly. Normally, Y/N could keep up with the energy, but today? Today had drained her completely. Her eyes were heavy, her steps sluggish, and the second they were given a break, she all but collapsed onto the floor.

Seungkwan noticed first. “Y/N, are you okay?”

She let out a tiny whine in response, not bothering to lift her head from where it was resting against her arm. “So tired…”

Joshua chuckled. “Yeah, we all are.”

“No, but I’m, like, really tired.” She turned her head to look at them, eyes droopy, voice small. “I wanna nap.”

“That’s new,” Jeonghan mused, crouching beside her. “Usually, you’re the one forcing us to stay awake.”

Y/N groaned. “Not today.”

Without much thought, she shifted closer to Jeonghan, resting her head against his shoulder. He stiffened for a second, caught off guard, before chuckling softly and patting her back. “Guess we finally broke her.”

Jun, who had been watching the exchange, smirked. “Wait, does this mean you’re clingy when you’re tired?”

“I dunno,” she mumbled sleepily, eyes fluttering shut. “Maybe.”

That was all it took for chaos to ensue.

Mingyu, ever the puppy, immediately crouched down beside her, eyes sparkling with mischief. “If I sit here, will you cuddle me too?”

Before Y/N could respond, Hoshi dramatically threw himself onto the floor beside her. “No! She should cuddle me first!”

DK, not one to be left out, wiggled his way into the conversation. “Guys, let’s be real. I give the best cuddles.”

Chan, eyes wide with curiosity, pointed at Y/N. “You’re really okay with this?”

Y/N, who was too tired to process anything properly, simply hummed and nuzzled closer to Jeonghan. “Warm…”

Seungkwan clutched his chest. “Oh my gosh. This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Minghao, ever the observant one, raised a brow. “I’m honestly shocked. You always pretend you’re too cool for this.”

Wonwoo, quietly amused, leaned against the mirror. “I kinda like this side of her.”

Woozi, who had been watching from a safe distance, shook his head. “Let’s not get used to it. She’ll be back to her usual self when she wakes up.”

Despite Woozi’s words, the members couldn’t resist the urge to take advantage of the moment. In a matter of minutes, Y/N found herself surrounded. Mingyu had managed to wiggle his way next to her, laying his head on her lap. DK had grabbed her hand, gently swinging it like a child. Hoshi had thrown an arm over her legs, trapping her in place.

And Y/N? She was too sleepy to care.

“You guys are so warm,” she muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

Joshua grinned. “You’re the one clinging to us, you know?”

Y/N’s only response was a small sigh as she drifted off to sleep.

For a while, the room stayed quiet, the usual chaos of Seventeen dimmed by the sight of their youngest member curled up in the middle of them all. Even Woozi, despite his initial skepticism, found himself smiling.

“She’s really cute like this,” Vernon commented, tilting his head to take in the scene.

“She’s always cute,” Seungkwan corrected, before quickly adding, “Just… extra cute right now.”

They stayed like that for a while, basking in the rare sight of a completely vulnerable Y/N. And when she eventually woke up, blinking sleepily at all the grinning faces around her, she groaned.

“Oh no,” she muttered, realization sinking in. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” Jeonghan assured her, ruffling her hair. “Absolutely nothing.”

Hoshi beamed. “Except prove that you secretly love cuddles.”

Y/N groaned louder, covering her face. “I will never live this down.”

“Nope,” Seungkwan confirmed. “Not a chance.”

And as the teasing continued, Y/N could only sigh, accepting her fate. Because, really, as embarrassing as it was, there was something nice about knowing that even in her weakest moments, she was surrounded by people who loved her.

Even if they were never going to let her forget it.

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sarahisslytherin · 3 months ago

Text

whatever you need.

matt murdock x reader

summary: matt murdock has enough problems. but when his upstairs neighbor is upset over her breakup, he can't help getting involved.

contains: talk of an emotionally abusive relationship. mentions of fem!reader. other than that it's all fluff.

a/n: am i trying to process my feelings through fanfiction? absolutely. am i ashamed? no. also so happy to be writing for my boy matt again! gif by @djo

word count: 0.8k

It’s been a long day for Matt Murdock. Work was shit, in spite of Foggy’s attempts to crack jokes and cheer him up. His body aches in too many places to count from the endless hits he took last night. So when he finally stumbles in through his apartment door, the last thing Matt needs is another problem. But as he cracks open a beer and takes a seat on his sofa, he can’t help but notice how the silence surrounding him is pierced by a ragged cry.

His head cocks to the side, listening intently to figure out where the sound is coming from. It’s the apartment directly above him, the one with the young woman he often would hear singing or laughing. That was until the boyfriend moved in. There was still laughter, but exponentially less of it. He recalls a lot more crying and fighting and slamming doors. It was like that for a while. He can’t deny that some nights the arguments had him itching to waltz upstairs and break that fucker’s nose for putting you through hell. But then he figured, it wasn’t his problem, and he had enough of those.

But it’s been quiet lately, and after putting two and two together, he’s realized it’s just you up there now. Just you, crying your heart out into the pillow before bed every night, scribbling in your journal in the morning, inviting friends over to distract yourself from the pain. The pain he wishes he could take away. He admits it, he’s grown fond of you. When you sing, he stops what he’s doing and drinks in the sound of it as if it were an angel’s song. He can’t help but overhear your conversations at times, can’t help but chuckle when you make a particularly funny quip. He doesn’t know what you look like, but he’s sure you’re as beautiful as you sound to him. How that ass couldn’t treat you right, he’ll never know.

He ignores your cry this time, the way he has for the last couple of weeks. But when he lays his head down on his pillow after another restless night on the streets and hears your whimpers, he simply can’t take it anymore. He throws on the first shirt he gets his hands on and a pair of grey sweats before racing up the flight of stairs keeping him from you. It’s only when he knocks on your door that it dawns on him he doesn’t have a plan.

His heart stops when he hears you shuffle inside, sucking in your breath and no doubt trying to conceal any visible evidence that you’d been crying. He hears the doorknob turn and the creak of the wood as he comes face to face with you.

“Hello.” you manage to say, your voice still a bit hoarse. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, my name is Matt. I live right below you.” he starts. He’s praying to every god that you can’t hear his heart panging in his chest. “I know this may seem odd to you, but I get the sense that you’re not okay. I mean, I used to hear some pretty crazy fights from up here with who I can only assume is your boyfriend-”

“Ex.” you interrupt him, arms crossed and eyes trained on the welcome mat beneath your bare feet. “Ex-boyfriend.”

Matt nods, taking a breath before continuing. “Right. The thing is, I’ve got a really good sense about these things. I don’t know, call it intuition. But let’s just say I’m not hearing any screaming matches anymore and, though that is a good thing, I can’t help but wonder if you need someone to talk to or just a hug or whatever you need.”

There’s a silence hanging in the air after he speaks. You watch him wring his hands together as he waits for your response. You also notice the way his sweet, brown eyes seem to look straight through you before you realize he can’t see you.

“You want to give me a hug?” you ask, and Matt in your voice the way your mouth quirks into a tiny smile. “Because I’m crying over my asshole ex-boyfriend?”

“A hug, some takeout, a walk around town. Whatever you need.” he’s grinning too now. He picks up on the way you casually lean on your doorframe, arms still crossed.

“What are you, some kind of hero or something?” you joke, adding a faux air of suspicion to your tone. “Who sent you?”

Matt laughs openly at that, throwing his head back as he does. “No one sent me, I just don’t like to know there’s a pretty girl crying over some jackass in my immediate vicinity.”

“Not to be rude, but what makes you think I’m pretty?”

Matt just shrugs. “Call it intuition.”

He definitely doesn’t need sight to feel the way your hand clutches his shirt and playfully tugs him through the door. It’s right then and there that Matt resolves on making your problems his problems as well.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @deadfables @misshale21 @dragonsfictavern @sweetercalypso @sheraayasher

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock oneshot #marvel

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ultravi0lence14 · 5 months ago

Text

Sleeping Beauty

sam winchester x bimbo!reader

817 | fluff, no use of y/n

summary: sam looks so pretty when he sleeps, and he just can’t keep his hands off of you.

the ridges of sam’s face had softened, displaying a more peaceful and less tense man. it broke your heart how the only time he could truly find peace was in the confines of sleep, but you just hoped that the love you gave him everyday would add more solitude to his otherwise tense living.

your white knee high socks slipped across the bunker floor as you moved from sam’s doorway, walking towards where he rested peacefully in his bed. the sleep shorts you wore sent a breeze through your thighs, making you itch to feel the warmth that sam brought you all throughout your body.

he and dean had been on a case in tennessee, and you had been visiting family by the time they came back. you hadn’t seen sam in about a week and a half, and he had already been back from the case 2 days before you returned.

missing him was hard — the old purple dog shirt of his on your upper half adding to that point, but you loved moments like this. moments where you’d embrace him tightly and he’d hold you like you were the only person in the world.

the weight of your body dipped the mattress as you knelt onto the bed, the braids in your hair swaying as you crawled upward to where sam rested. you cooed as you saw the expression on his face; lips parted slightly with his eyelashes brushing beneath his eyelids. he looked so soft, and you were eager to melt into bed beside him, merge your body with his own.

sam’s warm body came closer to yours as you moved underneath the blankets, shifting your body around so you could curl into his side and get an even closer look at his face. he was so pretty; possibly one of the prettiest men you have ever seen. you just couldn’t believe he was yours.

almost as if your mind was working on autopilot, the tips of your fingers started tracing the lines and planes of sam’s face. his brow bone, down the slope of his nose, around his lips. no place was left untouched, and you found yourself starting to draw tiny hearts across his cheeks.

when his eyes started to flutter open, a sheepish smile spread across your face. you truly didn’t want to wake him up, but as he fumbled to curl his arms around you in his grogginess, you really couldn’t feel all that bad.

“hey baby.” and god, there was that morning voice. like gravel was lodged in his throat, sam’s voice was so deep you felt it rattle your bones. it didn’t make it better that as he spoke, sam moved his palms onto your waist and hauled you over his body until you were laying completely on top of him.

“sam!” you whispered out a squeal as you moved underneath the blankets. “how is this comfortable? i’m practically crushing you.”

the boyish grin that lit up his face had molten lava spreading through your stomach. a feeling that you missed in the past few days of being away from sam. “i haven’t seen you in a week and a half, angel. is it such a crime that i’ve missed all of my pretty girl?”

his words were accentuated with multiple feather light kisses to your face. your face hurt terribly from how much you were smiling, which also meant that sam had perfect access to your dimple lines and the apple’s of your cheeks.

giggles rippled from your lips as his ministrations continued, leaving your hands to grapple at his shoulders and lift yourself slightly from his body. “quit it sammy,” you joked, feeling the confines of sam’s hands on your waist pull you back down to his body. “you’re making me blush.”

“and?” he had replied so quickly you barely even finished talking. “you look so fucking pretty like that. especially when i’m the one getting you all flustered.”

his words made you blush even harder, eliciting you to drop your face into his chest and hide the pigmentation. this only made sam’s smile grow as he dropped his chin on the top of your head, hands tangling in the strands of your hair as he twirled pieces between his fingers.

“oh cmon pretty, don’t hide that lovely face from me.” his words were followed by his palms gripping each side of your head, lifting it up so your eyes would meet. “there she is, my sweet girl. don’t hide your face from me, it’s my favourite view.”

you just shook your head, lifting your body a little so you could place a delicate kiss on sam’s cheek. “you’re an absolute cornball, you know that sam winchester?”

“only for you, my love.” if the radiance from a smile could light up the entire world, the beam that came from sam’s toothy grin would do just that.

tags: @floralscented @deansbeer @haunteres @ostaramoon @titsout4jackles @jasvtsc @fallbhind

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #imagine #supernatural x reader #fluff #ultravi0lence14 #sam x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester oneshot #natasha’s library

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luv-lock · 6 months ago

Text

⸻ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴛ ʏ ʀ ᴀ ɴ ᴛ ⸻

Pairing: Yandere HOTD x Targaryen Reader Part 3

Summary: Alicent was pregnant and now you have a brother... Great between this mess now you have to deal with a child.

Warning: Y/n herself is a warning.

Notes: English is not my first language. Gifs don't belong to me, credit to the owner. Hope you enjoy!

The corridors of the Red Keep felt more stifling than usual as Y/n made her way toward Alicent’s chambers, her father’s summons echoing in her mind. It was laughable, truly. After all, why would she, of all people, care to see this child—a replacement, a crude shadow of what should have been her true brother, born to her beloved mother?

When she arrived, Rhaenyra was already there, standing near the bed where Alicent lay cradling the newborn. Rhaenyra’s face twisted briefly as she took in the sight, her discomfort poorly veiled. Y/n caught her sister’s eye just before Rhaenyra turned and, with a cold glance, left the room, practically fleeing. Smart, Y/n thought, suppressing a smile. She could almost admire her sister’s decisiveness. She, however, would stay. There was something strangely… satisfying in seeing Alicent lying there, pale and weak, her hair clinging to her forehead with sweat, her whole appearance a fragile mess. She look miserable.

“Y/n, my daughter,” her father’s voice cut into her thoughts. “Won’t you come closer?”

She looked up at him, feeling that familiar pang of resentment, but she crossed the room slowly, each step heavy with her reluctance. Alicent looked at her with a forced smile, and Y/n barely resisted rolling her eyes. Her father gestured for her to approach even closer.

“Come,” he said, a faint hint of warmth in his tone. “Look at your brother.”

Y/n’s face twisted involuntarily, her lips pulling back in thinly veiled disgust. Brother? She didn’t see any reason to indulge in this charade. But, as her father’s eyes settled on her, full of an expectation she knew she couldn’t ignore, she sighed and leaned in to peer at the squirming bundle in Alicent’s arms.

The first sight of the child made her flinch. What… in all the Seven Hells is this? The baby’s face was scrunched and red, his tiny hands wriggling pathetically. She could barely suppress her grimace as she looked down at him. Why is it so… ugly? Is this actually what babies look like? Or is it just… this one? She felt a shudder run down her spine, her lips curling as though she’d just seen something grotesque.

“Well?” her father asked, watching her closely. Y/n looked up at him, raising an eyebrow in exasperation, unable to mask her distaste.

Viserys chuckled softly, clearly amused by her reaction. “I thought you’d be excited,” he said, his tone mild but firm. “You always used to talk about naming your little brother, remember?”

"Y/n, what would you name him if he were a boy?" her mother asked, her voice light and playful, a smile dancing on her lips.

Y/n’s face lit up instantly. “Aegon,” she replied, no hesitation.

Aemma’s laughter was a gentle chime, full of love, as she tilted her head back, clearly charmed. "Aegon, hmm?" she repeated, her voice tender and a little amused. “A strong name—he would grow into it, I think.”

The response made Y/n puff up with pride. She let her hand rest over Aemma’s belly, pressing gently as though she could feel the baby within, envisioning a strong little boy who would one day grow up by her side, someone she would protect fiercely. In that moment, she felt certain she would love him more than anyone else.

Aemma leaned down and kissed Y/n’s forehead, stroking her cheek with soft fingers. “I think he would love you very much,” she murmured, her voice filled with a sweetness that warmed Y/n’s heart. “He would look up to you, my little girl.”

He was supposed to be my brother, Mother’s son… Not this. Not this… thing.

Her throat tightened, the painful memory clashing with the reality in front of her. Swallowing, she whispered, almost to herself, “…Aegon.” The name hung in the air, soft and sorrowful. She barely noticed as the baby’s eyes blinked open at the sound, a pair of startlingly bright, clear eyes—like polished jewels, unexpectedly beautiful in the midst of his otherwise unimpressive appearance.

But she felt nothing, no stir of affection or tenderness. The past had stayed buried until now, and she would not dig it up for this stranger. She pulled back, letting the revulsion return to harden her expression.

“Well, congratulations, Father,” she said, her voice back to its usual detached tone. She cast a long, deliberate glance at Alicent, her lips twitching with barely concealed disdain, before turning and striding toward the door.

As she left the room, she could still feel the ghostly twinge of her mother’s memory, lingering like a bad taste. Aegon, she thought bitterly, her fingers twitching in irritation. She could still feel the faint ache of holding onto that name, the name meant for a brother she had wanted.

Once she was back in her own chambers, she called for Elira. “Prepare me a bath,” she ordered, brushing a faint trace of blood from her fingers. “I need to wash off… whatever that was.” The sight of that child had left her feeling unclean, tainted by the memory and the reality. She sank into the hot water a moment later, letting the heat and steam blur the remnants of the day’s distaste.

As she sank deeper into the bath, she sighed, watching the water ripple around her. But no amount of scrubbing would erase that memory or the sour feeling twisting in her chest.

Y/n walked through the Red Keep's sunlit corridors, her pale skirts sweeping the stone floors, the soft chittering of her monkey filling the silence. The little creature perched on her shoulder, its curious eyes darting around, occasionally reaching out to tug on a stray strand of her silver hair. She reached up absently to scratch behind its ear, murmuring, “You’re a clever little thing, aren’t you?”

The monkey blinked at her, tilting its head as though in agreement. Y/n allowed herself a small smile. A gift from Daemon. Her uncle’s face flickered in her mind, sharp and knowing. He’d always had a knack for giving her things that felt… personal, even if she doubted it at times. Where is he now? she wondered, a pang of curiosity laced with longing. He had always been unpredictable, always vanishing just when she began to feel comfortable. I hope he’s well… or at least happy with himself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a faint tug on her skirt. She stopped mid-step, frowning, and glanced down. There it was: that ugly thing. looked up at her with wide, unsteady eyes, his chubby hands still gripping the fabric of her dress.

“What do you want now?” she muttered, pulling her skirt away sharply. She stepped forward, expecting him to let go, but he didn’t. Instead, he tottered after her, his tiny legs wobbling as he reached for her again.

“Ya—Ya—” he babbled, his mouth struggling to form the syllables of her name.

She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, “Annoying little pest.” She continued walking, but he followed, his persistent baby babble echoing down the hall. His voice softened slightly, and then, clear as the bells of the Sept, she heard it:

“S-Sis…ter.”

She froze in place, her foot hovering above the first step of the grand staircase. Slowly, she turned to look down at him. His face was lit up with a bright, toothy smile, his tiny hands reaching for her skirt again as he repeated, “Sis...t-ter!”

Her eyes widened. Did he just say that? Her heart fluttered in an unfamiliar way, something small and sharp lodging itself deep in her chest. She stared at him, stunned, as he laughed again, his babyish giggles bubbling up like spring water.

“Do you want to ride on Syrax with me, sister?”

“Can you stay, sister? I feel lonely…”

“Don't worry sister, I will never leave you.”

“I love you, sister.”

Her throat tightened. The warmth of those memories twisted into something cold, a painful ache she could neither name nor shake. She felt herself soften, just slightly, as she gazed down at Aegon. So small, so innocent. A smile, faint and almost tender, touched her lips. “Aww,” she cooed softly, crouching down to his level. “You called me sister…”

Her hand reached out, gently brushing against his silver hair. He giggled again, his tiny hands batting at her fingers. For a moment, the warmth lingered, a fragile thread of something like affection.

She stared down at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. What a silly cute rat.

Before she could stop herself—before she even wanted to—she pushed him.

Aegon’s tiny body flew forward, tumbling down the stairs. His small arms flailed helplessly, his head bouncing off the stone steps with a sickening crack. His body twisted and rolled, limp and lifeless, until he finally hit the bottom with a heavy thud.

Y/n stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at the bloody mess below.

She tilted her head, a smile slowly spreading across her face. Is he dead? She wasn’t sure. Didn’t really care. The blood pooled around his little head, and for a moment, she thought he might be.

She didn’t move. Just stood there, watching. It was… amusing. Like watching a bug squirm after being squashed.

After a moment, she began to walk down the steps, her footsteps slow and deliberate. When she reached the bottom, she crouched beside his crumpled form, her eyes scanning the blood and the broken limbs. He wasn’t moving. His little chest wasn’t rising.

She leaned in close, her face hovering just above his.

“Are you still alive?” she whispered, her tone almost curious. She poked at his arm, but there was no response.

She smiled. Oh, well. If he was dead, he was dead. If not… well, that didn’t matter either.

Just as she was about to stand, she noticed a faint, shallow breath escape his lips.

“Oh, you’re alive,” she murmured, sounding more bored than surprised.

She stood up, dusting off her dress as the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hall. The maids rushed over, their faces pale with horror as they saw Aegon’s broken body lying at the foot of the stairs.

“Oh gods, what happened?” one of them gasped, falling to her knees beside him. “Someone fetch the maester!”

Y/n just watched, her expression flat. One of the maids glanced up at her, her eyes wide with shock.

“He fell, nothing to be worry about.” Y/n said simply, her voice devoid of any emotion. She could be careless.

Y/n stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. She watched, her expression soft, as they lifted him and hurried away, calling for the maesters.

As they disappeared down the corridor, she turned away, a slight smile curling her lips. So much fuss over a little fall.

She turned and walked in the opposite direction, her mind already moving on to something else.

Aegon was just a pest. A nuisance. A stray animal that had wandered into her path.

Whether he lived or died, it didn’t matter.

It never mattered.

Y/n sat in her chamber, the evening sunlight streaming in through the large arched windows, illuminating her collection of jewelry spread out across her vanity. Rings, necklaces, and bracelets, all glittering in gold and adorned with rubies and emeralds, caught her eye as she lazily picked one up after another, holding them against her neck to see how they looked. She glanced at her reflection, tilting her head slightly, her pale hair cascading over her shoulders. Perfect as always, she thought, fastening a necklace with a smirk.

Her peaceful vanity session was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps outside her chamber, followed by a sharp knock on the door. She sighed. What now?

“Princess,” a servant called from the other side. “The king has summoned you.”

Her smirk faded, replaced by a slight scowl. This better be good.

When Y/n entered the room, the tension was palpable. Alicent stood to the side, her face streaked with tears. Otto loomed next to her, his expression dark and accusing. Rhaenyra was there too, standing stiffly, her eyes flicking between their father and Alicent. Maids huddled in the background, visibly uncomfortable, whispering among themselves. Her father, Viserys, was pacing, his face red with anger. Ah it's about that thing isn't it?

The second he saw her, his finger shot out, trembling with rage. “Y/n!” he barked. “Did you push your brother down the stairs?!”

Y/n blinked, her expression one of calculated confusion. “What?” she said, her voice calm but laced with just enough disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

Viserys stepped closer, his hand clenching into a fist. “Don’t play games with me, girl! Aegon was found at the bottom of the stairs, and you were seen leaving the scene! Did you do it?!”

For a moment, Y/n simply stared at him, her face blank, before she let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” she said smoothly. “I didn’t even know Aegon fell.”

Before Viserys could respond, Alicent burst into tears, her voice shrill and filled with accusation. “You did it! I know you did! You just want to see me suffer! You hate me, and that’s why you hurt my son!”

Y/n slowly turned her head toward Alicent, her expression shifting to one of pure disdain. She raised a brow, letting the silence hang for a moment before speaking, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “First,” she began, “I had completely forgotten your son even existed until now. So, congratulations, I suppose, for reminding me of his presence.” She folded her arms, her lip curling slightly. “And second, do you think you’re so important that I would go out of my way to hurt a child just to make you suffer? Who do you think I am?”

“Enough!” Viserys roared, his voice echoing through the chamber. He glared at Y/n, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Just answer the question! Did you push Aegon or not?”

Y/n sighed dramatically, her gaze flicking to Rhaenyra. “Why would I do that?” she said, her tone exasperated. “If anything, Rhaenyra has far more reason to harm him than I do. After all, he’s a danger to her claim to the throne.”

Rhaenyra’s head snapped up, her expression furious. “How dare you—”

“Enough!” Otto interrupted, stepping forward. “The maids saw you, princess. They’ve spoken. They said they saw you push him.”

They wouldn't dare.

Y/n's eyes narrowed slightly, but her face betrayed no fear. Instead, she turned her head slowly toward the maids, her gaze icy. “Is that so?” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “Well, it’s not good to lie. So go on. Tell everyone exactly what you saw.” Her lips curved into a small, taunting smile. “After all, I have nothing to hide.”

The maid who had spoken out visibly paled, her hands trembling as she clutched the hem of her apron. “I-I…” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I saw n-nothing… I saw… nothing.”

Y/n’s smirk widened as she turned back to Alicent, her expression one of triumph. Alicent’s mouth opened as if to argue, but no words came out. Instead, she stood there, shaking with anger, her tears falling faster.

“Well,” Y/n said, turning her attention back to Viserys. “It seems I’ve been falsely accused. Again.” She tilted her head, her voice softening as she spoke to her father.

Viserys pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to maintain his composure. “Y/n…” he began, but she cut him off, her tone turning earnest.

“Father,” she said, her voice softening just enough to sound genuine, “I may not like his mother, but Aegon is my brother. My blood. A Targaryen. I would never do anything to harm our house or you. Surely you know that.”

Viserys stared at her for a long moment, his anger slowly fading into something more weary. He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a deep sigh. “Go,” he said finally, waving her off. “Just… go.”

Y/n inclined her head, a polite yet triumphant gesture, and turned to leave. As she walked away, the faintest hint of a smile played on her lips.

She can hardly believe what she's hearing. Marriage? Her father, has finally gathered enough balls to declare that she, the most stunning creature in all the Seven Kingdoms, the one every man pines for, is to marry? And to whom, of all people? Jason Lannister. That smug, rotund swine who fancies himself fit to marry a dragon. He’s nothing more than a pig draped in Lannister red, prancing around as if his golden hair and his family's wealth could mask the stench of his arrogance.

Her lips curl with disgust as she eyes Jason standing beside her father, his bloated face gleaming with that ridiculous self-satisfied grin. Jason Lannister? Really? Her mind races. Does father think so lowly of me?

No, this cannot be. She will not be shackled to some pompous, fat fool with no fire in his veins, who has neither her wit nor her beauty. A thousand thoughts swarm her mind like angry hornets. She's a Targaryen—she deserves a dragon, a man with strength and fire, not some Lannister sheep dressed in silk. And, gods be damned, she should have a say in this. Am I not his daughter? Does he think me some meek lamb ready to be led to slaughter?

“I at least deserve a choice,” she spits out, her voice sharp as Valyrian steel, her violet eyes flashing as she meets her father's gaze. “I will not be sold off like some common whore to the highest bidder, to that... thing.” Her voice drips with contempt as she gestures toward Jason, whose smugness falters for a moment.

Viserys sighs, rubbing his temples, clearly exasperated by her defiance. She has rejected every man he's thrown her way, each one sent packing with his tail between his legs. None of them were worthy, none of them could hold her interest for longer than a passing glance.

“It’s time for you to marry,” Viserys says, his tone dangerously low, trying to assert his failing authority. “You’ve already rejected enough suitors. You cannot delay this any longer.”

She laughs, a sharp, mocking sound that fills the room. “And why him? Are there not better men out there, father? Men with some beauty? Perhaps Ser Criston Cole.” she said smirking as her eyes flicking to the knight who stands at the door, his eyes were avoiding her “I would gladly marry him.”

“He’s a knight!” Viesrys snapped, his voice tight with disbelief. “He has vows. He cannot marry you!”

She rolled her eyes, the barely suppressed anger on her tongue, tasting sharp and venomous. “So? That’s not my fault. I don’t care about his vows!” She said it with a defiant sneer, feeling some sort of satisfaction as his shock deepened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Good.

“Y/n—” Viserys begins, but she cuts him off, her words coming in a flood. “I’m to marry, fine! But to this creature?” Her voice rises with each word. “I deserve a man who looks like a god, who can make my blood run hot—”

“Enough!” Viserys roars, his face red with fury. She pauses, her mouth half-open, momentarily stunned into silence. He breathes heavily, trying to regain control. “You want a choice?” he hisses, and for a fleeting moment, hope blooms in her chest.

“Then choose. Jason Lannister… or your brother Aegon.” His next words strike her like a knife.

What? For a moment, she cannot process it. Did he just say...? Her brother, Aegon? Her mind stutters to a halt. The room seems to grow cold, the air thickening. She stands there, staring at her father, trying to comprehend the madness he just uttered.

Did she hear that right? Her brother Aegon? The boy who’s barely old enough to walk, let alone… marry? For a moment, she’s stunned into silence, the rare taste of shock on her tongue. It’s almost laughable, really. As if those are her only options? As if her father thinks she would actually choose between a lecherous pig and a babe still sucking on his wet nurse's tits?

The room seems to close in, the walls pressing tight around her. She watches Viserys and Jason turn to each other, discussing plans as if she’s no longer even present. As if she’s already chosen Jason. The bastard thinks he has her cornered, that her vanity will force her to choose the Lannister rather than bind herself to a boy not even out of his childhood.

“She’s strong-willed,” Viserys mutters, not bothering to lower his voice. “But with time, she’ll come to appreciate the stability you can offer her.”

Jason snorts, and she wants to claw his eyes out for daring to speak of her as though she’s a horse to be broken. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll learn her place soon enough,” he says, his voice dripping with smug confidence. “A Lannister knows how to handle a fiery wife.”

The audacity. She can barely restrain herself from lunging at him, tearing that pompous grin off his face. But no, she won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her rage. Instead, she lets it simmer inside, her mind racing.

But then it hits her—this is perfect. The corners of her lips twitch into a sly smile.

“Fine,” she says, her voice cutting through their conversation like a knife through flesh. Both men turn to her, blinking as if they’ve forgotten she’s there. She stands tall, her chin lifted, the ghost of a smirk playing on her lips. “I will marry Aegon.”

The look on Viserys’ face is priceless. His expression falls as if she’s slapped him. “What did you just say?” he asks, his voice low, incredulous.

“I said I will marry my brother Aegon,” she repeats, her tone mocking, triumphant. “Are you deaf, father?” She enjoys the way his face crumples, the way Jason's smug smile evaporates into a confused grimace. They did not expect this. They thought her pride, her vanity, would force her to pick Jason.

Did you really think you could corner me, father? she thinks, her eyes gleaming with triumph. You should know better by now.

Jason's face turns red with fury, the realization sinking in that he’s lost his prize. He looks like he’s about to argue, but she cuts him off with a sweet, sickly smile. “It seems you won’t be wedding me, after all, Jason. I suppose you’ll have to settle for some lesser creature.”

And with that, she turns on her heel and sweeps out of the room, leaving her father and that Lannister pig scrambling to piece together what just happened.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 4.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

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