#I JUST . I JUST . THE SIBLINGS... i clench my fist

[leiawritesstories]

Practice

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 19: A Day with the Kids (canon) @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none!!! enjoy the fluffy fluffs!

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“Mama?” A knock pattered softly against the half-open door of Aelin’s study, and a pair of irresistibly huge emerald eyes peered into the room. “May I come in, Mama?” 

Aelin set aside the stack of letters she was reading through and turned in her seat, opening her arms to her youngest daughter. “Of course you can, my little love.” 

Rielle Whitethorn Galathynius, all of seven years old, came slowly into the study, looking curiously around at the shelves of leather-bound books, journals, rolled-up maps, and scattered artifacts that lined the walls of the queen’s study. After a moment, though, she raced to her mother and all but threw herself into Aelin’s lap. Aelin laughed and caught her daughter, kissing her wild silvery-blonde curls. “Hi, lovey.” 

“You’re so busy, Mama,” Rielle murmured, small hands curling into the soft cotton of Aelin’s loose blouse. 

“Never too busy for my family,” Aelin promised. “What’s going on?” 

Her daughter’s eyes glossed over with tears. “When are Dada and Lana gonna come home?” 

Oh.

Aelin pulled her youngest close, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “Well, according to the letter that Lana just sent me, they should be home in a couple of days. Definitely by the end of the week.” Gently, she brushed a stray tear off Rielle’s cheek. “I know they’ve been away for a while, lovey, and I know Dada misses you too.” Rowan and Lana, their oldest daughter, had gone to Doranelle for a few weeks to visit Sellene and give Lana the chance to train at the Academy that the Fae Queen of the East had established for all young magic-wielders. 

Rielle’s lower lip quivered. “I miss Lana,” she whispered. The oldest and youngest Whitethorn children had a close bond, even though they were nearly fifteen years apart in age. 

Aelin kissed her baby girl’s forehead. “I know, lovey.” She glanced out the study’s wide, arching windows, looking down into the courtyard, and an idea sparked. “Do you want to go practice with me?” 

“Practice?” 

Nodding, Aelin curled a ribbon of golden flame around Rielle’s head. “Practice.” 

The little girl beamed and jumped off her mother’s lap, ecstatic. “Yes!” 

“All right.” Aelin stood up, reshuffled the papers on her desk, and left the study hand in hand with her daughter. Rielle chattered excitedly as they came out to the courtyard, where two of her siblings were already sparring with a mix of wooden practice knives and their magic. 

Light as air, Charlotte danced circles around her brother Brannon, flicking ice darts against his shield of hard air even as she slashed at him with the wooden dagger in her free hand. Bran fended off each stroke, but Aelin could tell that her son was starting to flag under the constant strain of Charlotte’s offense. He broadened his shield, pushing wind behind it to propel him forward against her onslaught, lunging at her with the short wooden sword in his left hand, but she swiftly gathered her darts into a long ice sword and batted away his lunge. 

“Watch your right, B!” Aelin called across the courtyard, and Bran flicked his sword sideways just barely in time to dodge the sly jab that Charlotte was sending towards his unprotected right side. 

“That’s…cheating,” he panted, clenching his fist so that his shield shrank in size. He wove a breeze around one of Charlotte’s legs and tugged, yanking her off balance. 

She swore at him as she wrenched out of his magic’s grasp. “Says the dirty cheat himself.” With a flick of her wrist, her ice sword shattered into tiny, bladed crystals that she shot at Bran’s shield. He grunted under the onslaught and focused hard enough on blocking that attack that he didn’t notice her swoop in with her wooden dagger and jab him hard in the thigh. He topped with a yelp, and she had her practice blade at his throat in seconds. “Do you yield?” 

He grumbled in frustration and tried to wriggle free, but she pinned him with ice around his wrists and ankles. “Gods damn it! I yield.” 

Charlotte retracted her ice and let Bran up. He shook out his wrists and begrudgingly gave her a short bow. “You would’ve had me if Mum hadn’t said anything,” she said graciously. 

Some of Bran’s grumpiness—inherited directly from his father—ebbed away. “Yeah, I guess.” 

Rielle tugged at Aelin’s hand. “I can practice too, Mama!” she declared. Aelin nodded encouragingly, and Rielle walked a few paces away, closed her eyes, and pressed her hands together in concentration. After a long moment, sparks flickered between her palms, and she carefully brought her hands apart, growing the ball of red-gold flame between them. Scrunching up her little face as she focused, she grew the flames into a sphere, then a ring, then two rings that turned in circles. 

“You’re doing so good,” Aelin praised, and she spun out a ribbon of blue flame, weaving it through her daughter’s flickering flame rings. Her magic brushed up against her daughter’s power, greeting it warmly. 

“Look, Mama!” Rielle’s grin was infectious as her flames fell apart into ribbons, and she wove them through the air. Her small fingers flexed with the strain of control, and she clenched her fists, trying to spool the flames back into a ball. 

But the red-gold fire just winked out. 

Frustrated, Rielle let out a half-sob, half-yell and slumped down to the sandy ground. Aelin snuffed out her flames and dropped down next to her daughter, tucking her fingertips under Rielle’s fallen chin and lifting her face. 

“That was so good, Rielle,” she said, comforting her daughter. “Lovey, when I was your age, I could barely hold onto the fire for a few seconds, and you’re already making shapes.” 

Rielle sniffled. “Really?” 

“Really,” Aelin reassured her. “Can you show me again?” 

Slowly, Rielle nodded, and she curled into her mother’s warm embrace as she clenched her small fist and brought forth a shuddering ball of flame. Aelin cupped her hand under her daughter’s and wrapped Rielle’s flame in her own wildfire, guiding the flames into the shape of a sword. Together, she and her daughter slowly brought the sword down as if striking a blow. 

And it struck a shield of ephemeral silver flame. 

Rielle’s flames flared bright and disappeared, and she shot across the courtyard in a blur of silver-blonde curls and eager shrieking. “LANA!” Indeed, her oldest sister leaned against the archway at the entrance to the courtyard, and as Rielle launched herself up, Lana caught her, hugging her tightly. 

“That was so good!” Lana praised, grinning at her little sister. 

“Really?” Rielle’s eyes were big and hopeful. 

“Really,” Lana beamed. Unlike either her mother or her sister, the crown princess of Terrasen wielded flames of silver—moonfire, a gift that ran parallel to the Galathynius wildfire. A gift that had lain dormant until the goddess Deanna co-opted Aelin’s body that fateful day on the ship, leaving behind a remnant of her gift that had passed down to Aelin and Rowan’s firstborn. 

“Lana’s right, little love.” Rowan wrapped his arms around both girls from behind. 

Rielle shifted from her sister’s arms to her father’s embrace, beaming. “I missed you, Dada!” 

“I missed you more, little love,” Rowan murmured. He swung her up into the air, and she shrieked with joy, a cascade of laughter echoing around the courtyard. 

Lana crossed the courtyard to Aelin and wrapped her arms around her mother. Aelin smiled into her daughter’s hair, marveling at how she had grown so tall. “How was the trip?” she asked. 

“It was…a lot, but in a good way.” Lana wove a thoughtful strand of sheer fire around her wrist. “Aunt Sel and the instructors at the Academy know so much, and I hardly had any time to absorb even a little bit of it.” 

Aelin raised a brow. “And the rest of it?” 

Pink crept into the edges of Lana’s cheeks. “The rest of it was fine.” 

Aelin chuckled and took pity on her oldest. “We can chat about it later, if you want.” 

“Hopefully without half the castle snooping on us,” Lana mumbled. She turned to go and greet the rest of her siblings—which meant spar with them, probably—but flashed her mother a sly wink and a little smirk. “I hope you won’t be too scandalized.” 

“I believe your father and I are plenty scandalous enough already.” Aelin winked right back. 

Lana groaned loudly and covered her eyes. “No!” She headed across the courtyard, seeking refuge from her mother’s naughty humor in the laughter and companionship of her siblings. 

Have we not scandalized her enough already? Rowan’s amusement curled around the corners of her mind. 

Never. Aelin winked slyly at her husband. One might think, though, that after twenty-two years and, perhaps a love of her own, our crown princess wouldn’t be quite so shocked. 

Do not get me started on Lana’s lover—life. On her love life. 

You know I heard that. 

You’ll forget about it soon enough. Rowan slid his arms around Aelin’s waist, one broad hand landing squarely on her hip, his thumb moving in a languid, heated touch. 

She dipped her fingers under the hem of his shirt, dragging her nails lightly across his smooth, warm skin and reveling in his tightly leashed inhale. Is that a promise, buzzard?

It is. That quickly, he turned her own game right back around at her as he brushed a teasingly light kiss against the side of her neck. 

Welcome home, love. She rose onto her tiptoes to kiss him, and he cupped the back of her head, supporting her. We missed you. 

Missed you more. He kissed her again. 

A shower of snowflakes burst over the queen and king’s heads, abruptly yanking them apart. From the other side of the courtyard, their children were alternately catcalling or groaning with theatrical disgust, though they’d all long since grown used to their parents showing affection. 

“Are you done yet?” Lana teased, snickering. 

Aelin laughed. “She’s got the commanding voice, for sure.” 

“She’ll be a wonderful queen one day,” Rowan agreed, his eyes soft, distant. 

Naturally, Charlotte chose that moment to drop a handful of conjured snow down Bran’s shirt, and he shrieked like a small child and chased her around the courtyard and into the gardens, as if the two of them were children rather than nearly adults. Rielle, seeing the fun, hurtled after her older siblings, yelling “You’re it! You’re it!” and Lana, with a flash of a wildfire grin, followed suit. 

“They’re a handful,” Rowan chuckled, pulling Aelin back against his chest. 

She smiled, the warmth of it radiating from her face. “They’re our handful, love.”

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@mysterylilycheeta

[puppyeared]

adhd comix

[sunlightamed]

.         albedo / / @spidergourmet asked,

albedo has never needed a special day to treat klee accordingly. even so, the festivities and merriment make a golden foiled gift feel all the more magical. he squats to klee's height, a gloved arm beckoning her closer—the other arm waits patiently behind his back, seconds away from revealing the surprise of the hour.

"happy lantern rite, klee." albedo draws out a red pocket, presenting it to his younger sister. "i think red quite suits you. did you know? it's the color of a hero, of sparks, and particularly in liyue... of 'luck'. just like your clovers."

just like everything that has led him to here. there could be no greater fortune than what she has given him. ten, a hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand mora has nothing on it.

"now, make sure not to spend it all in one place, yes?" a palm cups the side of her head—albedo's language of doting is silent like snowfall, but certain as the imprint of footprints left in its powdery white blanket. "you mustn't forget to indulge yourself, either. i'm very proud of how responsible you've been growing in your adventures."

received: albedo's red pocket! a weighted crimson envelope packed even heavier with mora. 100,000 mora, to be exact. happy lantern rite!

little sun was almost too eager to be anchored by her other half, smiling from cheek to cheek, her chest rising in uneven breaths as she panted and tried to collect herself before her brother. after all, running to and fro in a game of chase with the other children of the harbor surely put her out of breath! but no matter how breathless, how dizzy with excitement, this mage's gaze immediately stuck to the arm albedo kept extended behind him. round, bright eyes narrowed, her mouth opening to maybe exclaim her surprise before all of her attention is pulled back to his face. to his smile, mainly.

thus, she giggled, tawny skin flushing merely from excessive joy as she nodded, "happy lantern rite, big brother! i━━" but a gasp interrupted her; her gasp, to be specific. a red pocket was raised to her gaze, bright and golden and full and hers! all hers!! klee squealed and hopped on the tips of her boots, anchored only by the hand albedo gently had on her arm, keeping her close enough within the invisible bubble of their conversation.

her first red envelope of the year! or, well, that's how the tradition went... but! it was a first! klee giggled until the mirth trembled her shoulders and her voice spilled into the sweetest fit of laughter, her arms outstretched, not to reach for the envelope, but instead for her brother. she practically tripped into his arms, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck and trapping the crimson pocket between their bodies.

"klee knows! klee knows! mama said she knew red would be my color ever since... well! ever!" little sun held him closer, laughing against his skin until she pulled back, still smiling, still bright. gloved hands carefully took the crimson envelope, holding that, too, close to her chest as she swayed on dizzy feet. a softer fit of laughter slipped from her at the touch of albedo's hand against her head, thus, she pressed back into the embrace.

klee's assurance came in the form of little uh-huhs and happy mhms. she nodded, "i promise! klee will be diligent with this." but her promise came too early, as albedo hadn't finished. and, when he did, his words left her in a silent, wide-eyed state. she blinked, rapidly, bright eyes unable to fathom what he had said.

but then, little sun laughed, a small sound, glancing away albeit nervously, kicking her foot against the wood of the harbor beneath them. "oh, big brother..." she whispered, clutching onto the red pocket as though it were him, hugging it to her chest until she remembered that, unlike her parents, he was tangible; kneeling before her with a gentle smile.

so, once again, klee embraced him, arms around his neck and head bowed slightly. laughter hadn't left her, still prominent as she said, "thank you, 'bedo! thank you so much! klee's grown so much and learned so many things and it's all because of you! well, most of it. hehe, i can't forget about the other knights." when she pulled away, it was to press a quick kiss to his cheek, before ultimately remaining in the embrace. "klee can't wait to buy so many souvenirs with this... and, oh! maybe we can take a trip to fontaine and buy some of their gear! have you seen this lady━━very pretty and blue━━who..."

[exculis]

oh ken might be a little autistic.

[entitled-fangirl]

Tradition.

Cregan Stark x Pregnant!reader

Summary: the reader and Cregan go to King's Landing to support her nephew, Luke's, Velaryon claim. She goes into early labor away from the North.

Warnings: Aegon is his own warning, body shaming, talks of brothels and stuff, labor, blood, death, fighting, all that stuff.

A/n: Based on an ask! I'll proofread later 😭

Masterlist

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Cregan held out his hand to help his very pregnant wife out of the carriage. 

He absolutely hated riding by carriage. It seemed pointless when you could ride a horse instead. But when summoned to King's Landing by King Viserys with his Targaryen wife to join the rest of her family, he had to guarantee her safety on the travel by any means necessary.

Alicent's face lit up at the sight of her daughter, practically running over Cregan to get to her. She embraced the pregnant woman tightly, "Oh, my love! How you've changed!" 

Y/n hugged her mother back just as firmly with a smile, "I've missed you, mother."

Alicent pulled away and admired her grown girl, "King's Landing is better with you here." Only then did Alicent notice Cregan, "Oh. Lord Stark."

Cregan bowed his head politely, "My queen."

"Cregan has been eager to see King's Landing again," Y/n chirped in, "He has only been a few times."

Alicent's brows lifted, "Really? I wouldn't have thought that."

He nodded, "I could've been patient enough to wait until after the birth, but alas, when the King calls, you answer."

Alicent gave a forced smile, "Right. Of course. The birth." She looked to her daughter, "How far along are you, my dear?"

"Nearing eight moons now," she said nervously with a hand on her swollen stomach.

Alicent didn't miss the equally nervous and protective look in Cregan's eyes.

…

Dinner that night was beyond tense. 

What was joy for Viserys was misery for everyone else.

Watching the king decay at the table and the rest of them squabble over trivial matters that seemed of great importance.

"A toast to the young princes and their betrothed."

Aegon leaned over to his nephew Jace, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."

A glare was sent his way by Jace and Baela.

Y/n caught on and quickly looked to Aemond, who sipped his wine with no reaction.

"You do know how the act is done, I assume?" Aegon continued. "At least, in principle. Where to put your cock and all that?"

Jace's jaw clenched, "You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed."

"Aegon." Y/n hissed through her teeth across the table.

His head immediately snapped to his sister in annoyance, "What?"

"Let it alone."

He scoffed lightly, "What do you mean? I'm only asking." He gained a grin, "It's not like I have to ask Lord Stark that. Look at the state of you!" He gestured to her swollen belly.

Cregan's grip on his fork tightened, turning his knuckles white. 

She placed a hand over her stomach and grimaced, "At least I was able to find a husband that wanted me. Mother had to force you to marry the only girl around, and that was Helaena."

Aegon gave an incredible glare, one that his sibling shot back.

Aemond became amused.

"Let us not fight at the table," Alicent reprimanded lightly.

Y/n looked to Jace, who gave a small nod of gratitude.

Silence filled the room until the King's long monologue of the need for peace in the house. 

Rhaenyra and Alicent gave small and seemingly back-handed toasts but Y/n was too set on the continuous mischievous look in her brother's eye.

And she called it right when he stood and moved to whisper in Baela's ear.

It was clear that it was muttered with the intention of riling up Jace, which it did quite well.

He stood up in anger, slamming his fist on the table.

Cregan, who had remained entirely silent thus far, instinctually moved a hand across his wife as if shielding her and the child.

The tense toasts only got worse from there.

Luckily, the music seemed to drown out the intensity, as well as Jace's good gesture of faith in dancing with Helaena. 

Y/n leaned over to Aemond, "Brother."

His brow raised as his eye traveled to look at her.

"It has been… long since I've seen you. I see you've faired quite well."

He hummed lightly, "I see you've… managed."

She could feel Cregan's intense gaze from behind her, "Wh…what do you mean?"

Aemond smirked and leaned in to where only the two Starks could hear him, "Inpregnanted by a brute-"

Cregan's jaw clenched so hard he feared for his teeth. His voice was a hushed whisper, but still held furiously to it, "Watch your words."

Y/n held Cregan's shoulder, "Let us not do this here."

Aemond smirked with Cregan sighed and leaned back in his chair.

When Viserys was escorted from the room due to his pain, Y/n decided to leave as well, and Cregan behind her.

They claimed a pregnancy illness and Rhaenyra smirked, knowing she'd used the same card many times.

…

Cregan helped her into bed, "I don't understand their need to crawl under everyone's skin like beetles."

She sighed, "They've never known life outside of a castle, Cregan. They've never been told no, and they never will. It's best to let it go."

"They mock us both. My name has been through dirt, blood, and tears, and I do not care, but yours?" He scoffed, "I will not stand by the next time you are mocked."

"It is only for a little while longer," she rebutted.

"Know that I do this for you, and only you, my love."

She smiled, "That's all I ask."

…

"The north has done a number on you, really," Aegon said as he appeared at her side.

She tilted her head, "I don't know what you mean."

He shrugged, "You're…" he then gestured his arms widely. "I dunno… well indulged?"

She pushed down the tears that welled up in her eyes, "Why do you care?"

He scoffed and leaned in towards her, "You know how many friends of mine asked for whores that looked like you? Many."

"And?"

"And?" He asked mockingly. "And? Who wants to fuck a whore that looks like you now?"

Her jaw went slack for a moment, completely shocked by his words. 

Finally, with now watery eyes, she spoke. "You're the worst kind of man, Aegon."

"Oh? And what kind is that?"

A sudden punch came from nowhere, landing on Aegon's jaw and sending him to the ground. 

Cregan stood over the man's body, a predatory look in his eyes and a murderous tone in his voice, "One that can't defend his fucking words."

Y/n pulled Cregan back, "Stop!"

He wanted to fight against her, but he knew better. His shoulders rolled back and he stood tall. 

She cursed under her breath as she took in exactly what had unfolded, "They could have your head for this, Cregan."

"Only if your brother wishes to defend his words against me again," Cregan scoffs as he looks down at the man.

Aegon sits up and huffs, wiping his nose that begins to leak blood. "Northern brute-"

"-Aegon!" She reprimands. 

Cregan glared at Aegon for a while, then scoffed and walked off a few steps to calm himself.

Aegon stands on shaky legs as he glares at his sister, "I liked you better when you lacked a guard dog."

Cregan immediately turned back to the man with a look that said he was ready to murder him. As he stepped forward, Aegon stepped back as he began to regret his words.

"Take me to our chambers, Cregan," she lightly pleaded. 

The wolf of the north only stared for a while before nodding, "Lead the way."

She sighed as she gave a final look to her brother. "Clean yourself up. You look like shit."

…

Standing behind Rhaenyra, Y/n and Cregan whispered idly to Daemon when someone would comment something out of hand. 

Luke's legitimacy was coming into question, and though the Starks knew the truth, they would not dare pry the inheritance from the boy's hands. That was not their place. So next to Daemon they stood as petitions were made to and against him.

Daemon leaned in to speak to Y/n, "how far along did you say you were?"

"Eight moons now," she whispered back.

Daemon let out a surprised grunt. "You're to have the child here then? That seems unlike you."

"Uncle, my father insisted I come, and I have. Whether the child is born in the North or the South, it is a Targaryen and Stark all the same."

He smiled lightly, "I suppose you're right. If you wish for someone to accompany Lord Stark to the dragon pit to choose a proper egg for the child, only say the word."

Cregan, who had been listening quietly, now leaned in, "I am to choose an egg?"

"It is tradition," she explained. "It can be before, during, or after the birth, but the father chooses the egg. If… If you would wish to continue that tradition."

He grinned, "I'd be delighted to try."

When Vaemond Valaryon stepped up forward to speak his mind, the Starks quieted. 

He spoke in anger, trying to take Luke's right. 

Y/n looked past him to her mother and siblings. 

Aegon looked like he'd rather be doing anything else. He didn't care the outcome of this ordeal. Aemond watched intensely with his one eye, taking in every detail. And Helaena… sweet Helaena. 

She needed to visit her and the children soon.

"And her children are…" Vaemond paused.

The room stilled.

"Say it," Daemon whispered under his breath.

"Her children are BASTARDS!" He screamed.

Y/n jumped back in surprise as Cregan's steady hands caught her waist.

"And she. Is. a. Whore." Vaemond finished.

The air in the room stilled and became stuffy as the tension reached an all time high.

Viserys stood on unstable legs as he unsheathed his dagger, "I will have… your tongue for this."

A sudden slice moved through the air, and half of Vaemond's head was gone.

Blood splattered across the ones' nearest, meaning the Starks. Cregan let out an annoyed grunt.

"He can keep his tongue," Daemon said proudly as he lowered his sword.

Y/n rested a hand over her swollen stomach with a shaky hand, trying to ignore the blood that began to seep into her clothes. 

Cregan leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Are you alright?"

"I… I want to go," she shuddered back.

He nodded, looking around as the crowd began to whisper amongst themselves. He held a hand firmly against her back as she became to let out an uncomfortable whine.

"Cregan, please," she whispered.

"Alright. Alright, let's go, my love," he said as he tried to move her through the crowd.

But her legs faltered as she let out a pained noise.

He caught her in panic, "Are you in pain?"

"The babe…"

No longer caring for proper manners, Cregan stood tall and looked over the crowd. "MOVE!" He yelled out.

The people quieted and moved as Cregan helped his wife through the room and out of the doors.

Alicent only saw a brief glimpse of her daughter's silver hair go through the doors, and she was on edge. She ran through the crowd to follow behind them.

He held onto his wife's arm with one hand and held her waist with the other, trying to support her as they moved to their chambers.

Y/n let out a gasp, and her water broke.

Alicent caught up to them and grabbed her daughter's other arm. "It's alright. You're alright." She turned to a servant and ordered him to get the maester. 

Sweat began to break out of the poor woman's forehead as the weight of what is happening began to settle. 

Once on her bed, Cregan refused to move from her side, Alicent as well. Alicent rubbed soothingly across her daughter's forehead as Cregan paced at the foot of the bed.

The maester and midwives came quickly, immediately moving to the woman in labor.

"My lord, it is best if you remain outside," one of them said.

Cregan's brows furrowed in confusion. "Out… Outside?"

Alicent chipped in, "It is tradition. The husband waits outside of the doors."

He stared at Y/n in thought. Tradition. How that word weighed on them like boulders. 

"Alright."

…

He tried to ignore the sounds of her cries as he stood in the corridor. 

Nothing could ease his worries. 

In the North, it was not uncommon to be by their wife's side. 

This was unusual to him.

"My lord," a midwife questioned as she poked her head from the room.

His eyes widened, "Is she alright?"

"The child is… having trouble, my lord."

That was Cregan's greatest fear. The maester in Winterfell had spent endless hours with Cregan to determine a plan for if such a thing were to occur. Now he was without a plan entirely.

"Alright?" He finally breathed.

"What do you wish for us to do?"

"What options do I have?" He spoke barely above a whisper.

The midwife gave him an empathetic look. "We can cut the child out-"

"-No." He was quick with his answer, the very thought of taking a blade to her seeming the greatest sin he could commit.

"Um… it will be painful, but we can help her force the child out."

"Is that safe for her?"

The midwife shrugged lightly, "More than any other option I can give you."

He nodded.

She gave a weak smile and moved back into the room, but Cregan caught the door before it closed and forced his way in.

At the sight of his wife, he felt as if a blade went into his own stomach.

She was crying in pain, the midwives forcing her hips down as she tried to move away from the pain, as if that was possible.

At the sight of him, her entire face relaxed, "Cregan…"

He moved to her side, "I'm here. How can I help?"

Alicent glared slightly at him. 

"They won't… I can't…" Y/n whimpered out.

"They won't what?" He looked up to Alicent, "What are they doing?"

"She wishes to get up. We cannot have her standing," she explained.

Cregan was thrown off by that. "She cannot? W… Why ever not?" When in labor with him, Cregan's mother was said to have walked the length of Winterfell 3x over. 

"It hurts… please, Cregan…" 

He nodded as his expression hardened. "Let her stand."

The maester shook his head, "She is nearing the labor. She should not-"

"-She wishes to stand. She will stand."

Alicent spoke up. "Lord Stark-"

"-This is my wife and child. If she wishes to walk, then she will," he barked. 

A fire lit behind the queen's eyes. "She will not."

The midwives watched the tension grow.

Finally, Cregan calmly reached down and began to help his wife sit up.

Alicent cursed under her breath and grabbed Cregan's wrist in an effort to stop him.

Cregan's eyes slowly moved up to Alicent's face as anger began to overcome him. 

But she was first to speak. "You are no longer in the North. You abide by our traditions when you are here."

He'd heard enough of that word for a lifetime. 

His words came out sharper than he intended, but he cared little to soften them. "Your family is made of vipers and cutthroats. When I take my wife and child back to Winterfell, it will truly be a miracle if you ever see them again, for I will not let her sit and be neglected and tormented. I am a brute, but I am not without heart. Now, Let. Go."

Alicent reluctantly let go.

Cregan helped Y/n sit, and she immediately felt relief. "I want to walk," she panted.

He nodded, practically holding her up as she stood. "We will walk the corridor and return." His voice had no room for argument.

Once they paced the corridor a few times, she was returned to the bed, only to find that Alicent had left. Cregan only cared about it when he noticed the tinge of sadness that moved over his laboring wife.

But he was quick to fill the gap. As she moved back to the bed, Cregan sat behind her and held her against his chest, messaging anywhere that began to ache.

The labor came soon after that. Cregan held her close as she screamed in pain and gripped his wrists. She surely left bruises.

"The babe is crowning, princess," the midwife exclaimed. "Keep pushing."

The pain came in waves that made her see white. 

Cregan began to panic when the midwives gave one another a look. "What?"

"She is not pushing hard enough."

Y/n began to cry in frustration.

"She is pushing," Cregan sighed. "What else is there to do?"

One of them reached up and began to push on her stomach, prompting the princess to cry harder as the pain multiplied. 

"Allow me," Cregan shifted her in his hold and carefully placed his hands where the midwife had, slowly applying pressure to the same place.

As Y/n screamed and cried, Cregan placed assuring kisses against her neck and cheek and whispered calming words to her. "You're doing well."

If the pain had not been so bad, she may have blushed.

…

Cregan held the baby close to his chest as his wife slept.

"My lord," a servant finally entered and interrupted the silence. "The queen has requested to see the child."

An annoyed feeling washed over the man. Of course, she wished to. 

The servant took note of his changed demeanor, "I can take-"

"-No," he countered. "I will go myself. Should my wife awaken in my absence, give her anything she desires."

His heavy feet stormed from the room and he walked to the queen's chambers.

Alicent turned and shock overcame her. "Lord Stark. I did not expect you to-"

"-Neither did I."

The two stared at one another for a moment before Alicent's eyes wandered to the bundle in the large lord's arms. "Healthy?"

"The very picture."

She nodded, unsure of what to say next.

"A boy," Cregan stated.

"A boy?" Alicent whispered. Any thoughts of annoyance were past to her, and she walked to the lord and eagerly looked at the child.

The baby was indeed the picture of health. Bright purple eyes looked up at the two. Dark hair sat atop his head.

"He's quite northern," she stated.

"Indeed." Cregan was sure she meant it as an insult, but he could care less. The thought of such a gift as a northern boy filled him with pride. 

"Congratulations, Lord Stark."

He nodded. "Your daughter is fine as well."

Alicent moved away from Cregan and sat down. "That is a blessing. To all of us. She will be a perfect mother."

"Aye, she will."

The tension between the two was evident, but they wouldn't let it dull the excitement of the newest addition to the line.

"I should return to my wife."

"Please, do."

Cregan moved to the door.

"Lord Stark?" She asked.

"Yes?"

Alicent stared at him and then the babe. "Thank you. For caring for her. And now him. You are a better man than most."

Cregan sighed. It wasn't a compliment, but it was something. "Thank you, my queen. She will want for nothing until my dying breath."

"This is all I wished for her."

......................................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver

[xxlady-lunaxx]

(DOMESTIC) SANEGIYUU HEADCANONS

Sanemi is ALWAYS the one cooking

I’m sorry but I can only see Giyuu fucking up scrambled eggs or something. Sanemi cooks (or bakes) like a professional

Giyuu having a bedhead (he’s adorable) and Sanemi waking him up by either:

throwing a pillow on his face

running his hands through his hair and a “good morning, shithead”

One or the other, no in betweens

Sanemi usually does the chores like laundry, cooking, etc (malewife<33)

Giyuu can do things if given clear instructions tho

Hmm showering together just as a habit

If either of them were mad at the other (or they js fought) before bed, they’ll probably distance themself on the futon

When they wake up they’re always cuddling though

ouugh yes they share a bed

(it was so awkward at first like “ok… i’ll have this side” but then they got comfy and steal each other’s pillows (so romantic smh))

Sanemi definitely holds a longer grudge

Giyuu gets upset if he gets ignore too long, though, and Sanemi eventually caves

Why do I feel like Sanemi would just take pictures or videos of Giyuu randomly

When he’s asleep, when he’s just woken up, when he’s eating, doesn’t matter

Because Sanemi’s in charge of meals usually, Giyuu only gets salmon daikon once a week (which is already a lot as is, but he begs Sanemi for it so…)

Sanemi used to braid/put up his siblings hair a lot and when the two are cuddling, sometimes he makes little braids in Giyuu’s hair, or pulls it up in a high ponytail (often Giyuu wakes up with braids and his hair gets a lil wavy when he takes it out later)

Giyuu’s the baby in the relationship you cant change my mind. He’s the little spoon; he’s being carried because he’s tired; he’s given breakfast in bed.

Sanemi honestly doesn’t mind (he’s used to this) but likes teasing Giyuu about it

Giyuu has a bow of Tsutako’s (he stole a spare) and wears it to formal places always. (job interview? bow. prom? bow. work? bow.)

Sometimes Giyuu helps Sanemi hang up the laundry but they somehow end up hugging always (Giyuu goes on the other side of the clothing line and ThEIr lEgS juST mOVed By THemSElf)

On weekends, when there’s nothing to do, Sanemi will just scroll through his phone and Giyuu watching TV

Giyuu can NEVER not fall asleep during a movie though. depends on the day but he’ll either fall asleep 20 mins in or half way through

Sanemi doesn’t really watch movies and just slowly turns down the volume then off to not startle him awake

I can see Sanemi just volunteering to babysit for their friends (for free<3) and just having a box full of children’s toys for when they come over

Giyuu once overfed a baby to near sickness (“I thought her grabby hands were for more :(“ - “YOU IDIOT, SHE WAS TRYING TO PUSH AWAY THE BOTTLE!!”) and was thereafter forbidden to care for the children (unless they were older than, like, 12)

After a stressful day at work, Giyuu likes flopping down on the couch and having Sanemi run his hands through his hair and hum a bit, maybe small talk

I think Giyuu is actually an open book and horrible at hiding his emotions (like canonically as a child he was like that, only the deaths changed him sooo) whilst Sanemi is better at hiding things

But like after years of living with Sanemi/js being with him, Giyuu has been able to see small telltales

When he’s lying, Sanemi’s eyes flick every so slightly away (so subtly that only a few have caught it before), when he’s upset, he’s a little clingier or his voice is calmer (though many people interpret it as tiredness), when he’s angry but trying to stay calm he’ll probably have a lot of clenched fists (his hand opening and closing x100) but behind his back haha

Why can I see them both as dry texters tho.

Giyuu tries to sound more upbeat by adding emojis/emoticons but overall it’s basically just “Ok 😁👍❤️😋😚✨🎆🎉🎊🎏🍩🔥” // 😭 yeah he doesn’t have a lot of people to text…

I can also see Sanemi being a little old fashioned in a way, idk… He knows perfectly fine how to use a phone and shit but for some time mostly sent letters (except for casual/small talk ofc)

ok that’s it i can’t think of anything else anymore!!

[gracexthoughts]

the strong

jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!oc

warnings; slight canon divergence, cussing, canon typical incest, fighting, implied smut at the end (i cannot actually write smut to save my life sorry), s1ep8 spoilers ig summary; after vaemond's petition, aegon’s jesting, and aemond’s taunts, jacaerys is furious and seeks solace and advice from his step-sister and betrothed. inspired by tyrion telling jon to wear his bastardy “like armor so it can never be used to hurt'' him in the first ep of GOT (I’ve been rewatching to feed the brainrot) a/n; daenera is daemon’s eldest daughter from his first marriage, in my head daemon didn’t kill rhea and she died in childbirth just before rhaenyra’s wedding so daeny is about half a year older than jace but you can use your imagination as it doesn’t really matter.

“I dare you to say that again!” Jacaerys growls from the dancefloor. Daenera turns in her seat to see Jacaerys with his fists clenched, his eyes dark and glaring daggers at his uncle. The feast had been amicable considering the events of the day, but while the adults’ words of peace ring honest between them, animosity between the young princes, princess and ladies nears its boiling point. Prince Aegon has spent most of the evening cooing foul and crude jests to Jacaerys and Daenera about their soon approaching wedding. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Prince Aemond has added his own taunt to the pile: a thinly veiled comment on the Velaryon brothers' true parentage. 

“Why? Twas only a compliment,” Aemond defends, lowering his goblet to face Jacaerys, stepping towards him as he does. “Do you not think yourself Strong?” Jacaerys answers by bringing his fist up to Aemond’s jaw, the sound resonating through the hall. Lucerys leaps up from his seat, Vaemond’s slanders still heavy in his ears, but Aegon intercepts him, slamming him down on the table and sending food and silverware clattering from the impact. Daenera, ever protective of her siblings, leaps from her seat and wraps her arms around the eldest prince’s neck, putting all her weight against him to remove his hands from Lucerys. He grapples with her for a moment before she is ripped off by a Kingsguard. Knights separate Aegon from Luceryrs, Jacaerys from Aemond, and Rhaena pushes Baela back from leaping into the fray as well.

The Queen pulls her second son back, muttering angrily to him but he pulls away from her as Rhaenyra moves towards her sons and Daemon to his daughters. “I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family. Though it seems my nephews aren’t so proud of theirs!” Aemond continues to taunt, leveling a snide one-eyed glare at Jace. Jacaerys wriggles out of the guard’s grip and steps menacingly towards Aemond. 

“Wait, wait,” Daemon says, holding a finger up and stopping Jacaerys in his tracks, forcing him back to stand next to Daenera. 

“Go to your quarters, all of you. Go now!” Rhaenyra commands sternly, her eyes holding a warning as she stares down her eldest son and motions for the rest of her children, by blood and by marriage, to leave. 

“Come on,” Rhaena says softly, pulling her sisters along with her and out of the hall by their hands. Daenera relents with a sigh but not before squeezing Jacaerys’ and flashing him a sympathetic smile. 

“Are you alright, Daeny?” Baela asks as they make their way to their rooms.

“Fine, worried about the boys,” she mutters in reply.

“I’m sure Jace and Luke are alright, sister,” Rhaena says softly, wrapping her hand around Daeny and Baela’s arms. Daenera nods agreeing but still can’t shake the worry in her chest.

Near an hour later, a knock sounds on the door to Daenera’s chambers, pulling her from the depths of the book in her hands. “Come in!” she calls expecting one of her maids and, not bothering to stand from her comfortable position on the settee in front of the fire, turns to see who enters. “Jace,” the lady says softly as her betrothed steps into her chambers, his eyes still dark with rage. 

The pair have been betrothed for nearly ten years, the announcement made soon after their parents married, and as they grew up together they have grown a deep love for each other: a bond of unconditional trust and adoration between the future King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Jacaerys comes to crouch in front of her, placing his hands on her knees and caressing the joint over the silk of her night gown. His tunic is gone, leaving him in just his white undershirt and trousers, Daenera’s eyes trail to the bit of collarbone she can from her vantage point. 

“Are you alright? Did Aegon hurt you?” the prince asks, searching her deep purple eyes that snap back to his face at his words. 

“I’m fine, Jace. If I can match you in a spar, I can handle myself against that drunken lecher,” she chuckles slightly, setting her book aside and reaching up to brush a stray curl away from his brow. “Are you alright?” She asks, reaching for his hand with its already darkening skin. She’d let her hair down to hang around her shoulders and even clouded by anger as his mind is, Jacaerys notices her etherealness. She has always been a sharp and unsettling kind of beauty, her eyes seeming to have the ability to gaze upon your soul, but Jacaerys relishes her softer side. The side she so rarely shows others.

“Wish I’d gotten more blows in,” he grumbles, standing and pacing in front of the hearth, his shoulders tight and face scrunched in anger. 

“Maybe you’ll have a chance before we return to Dragonstone,” she offers with a smirk. “The cunts deserve it, the pair of them.” 

“Will I never be free of this? Of these slanders that are whispered in my wake? Will they sneer at me when I sit on the throne? Ignore my rulings and snicker-” 

“Jace, breathe,” Daenera pleads, concerned with the rising panic she sees in his eyes. 

“I cannot, Daeny!” the prince exclaims, “How am I meant to be a King, a leader, when I am not respected?” 

“Darling, we are barely eight and ten, you are second in line at present. Respect will come with time. Once your mother is Queen the people will become familiar with you, with your grace, your kindness, your justness,” she says, placatingly, reaching out for his hand, forcing him to stop his pacing and look at her. “They will forget the slanders the Hightowers murmur because you will be a good and just King. Besides, it's your mother’s blood that makes you royal, not your father’s.” 

“And yet there will always be those who call me a Strong. The King cannot take every single one of their tongues,” he says with a heavy sigh, running a ringed hand through his hair in distress. Daenera considers this for a moment, knowing it is true enough, and Jacaerys sighs, turning to face the hearth, planting his hands on the stone and gazing down into the flames. 

“So make it a compliment,” the lady says after a long moment, leaning back on her arm on the settee, her deep amethyst eyes watching the prince. 

“Make the doubt of my paternity a compliment?” Jacaerys scoffs, turning to her. “How in the Seven Hells-” 

“If they shall call you ‘Strong’ no matter what, the more you rage against it the more power the slight has. The only way to take away its power is to show it cannot be used to hurt or diminish you. Take it as your moniker and wear it like armor so all know tis not a weapon they can wield against you.” 

“Jacaerys the Strong?” he asks slowly, the wheels turning behind his eyes, unable to deny the intelligence of her council. He sits down slowly next to Daenera, his eyes fixed on a point on the rug.

“King Jacaerys the Strong, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm,” she purrs, leaning towards the prince, a smirk on her lips. She watches as a firelight dances in his eyes, his pupils dilating at her proximity. 

“Hm, not bad,” he smiles, and leans down, connecting his brow with Daeny’s, running a finger calloused from years of practice with a blade across her jaw. 

“What is it?” Daenera asks softly after a moment, pulling away to look into Jace’s eyes, sensing he is still feeling troubled. 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, not meeting her eyes. 

“Jacaerys,” she chides, cupping his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. 

“Just… fucking Aegon… I fear he is right in his jests. I have no idea how to please you as you deserve,” Jacaerys confesses shyly, pulling his face from Daeny’s hands as heat creeps into his face. 

Daeny cannot help the laugh that escapes her lips, of all the troublesome worries that the day has brought, her sweet betrothed worries of her pleasure. Sex is not something the pair have discussed in length yet, even though their wedding is a little more than a moon away. The pair tend to flit around such topics, even when they steal secret kisses in dark corners of Dragonstone and come away with scarlet cheeks and racing hearts. 

“And now even you laugh at me!” He exclaims exasperatedly and stands to move away but Daenera quickly stands as well, stepping in front of him and stopping him from leaving. She pushes him back to his seat and kneels before him, her hands on his shoulders. 

“No, my love, I’m not laughing at you, I’m sorry. Tis just that you should not concern yourself with such worries,” she says gently, running her hand from his broad shoulder to the toned expanse of his chest, feeling his heart beating under his skin. 

“But I-” 

“I have no more knowledge on how to please a man than you do a woman, Jace,” she continues, her voice placating and soft. “We shall learn together and be stronger and better for it.” Jacaerys meets her amethyst eyes, finding comfort in the truth and lack of judgment he finds in them. “Besides, I cannot believe that Aegon knows any more than you do. He has never had any care for anything besides his own pleasures and you heard poor Helaena’s toast. He targets you because he knows you are more generous and loving than he could ever hope to be.”  Jacaerys chuckles at this, knowing she speaks true of his uncle and melts into her touch at last. 

“You truly do not care?” He asks, toying with the ends of her silver hair that brushes against his knee. 

“Shall I prove it to you, my prince?” she purrs, a teasing mischief in her eyes as she runs a hand up his chest to the nape of his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips in a kiss. He sighs into her embrace, his hands finding purchase on her waist as he deepens the kiss, his tongue darting between her lips. Realizing she is still kneeling on the floor in front of the settee, he grips her hips tightly and pulls her to straddle him, pulling a gasp from her lips which eggs the prince on. Jacaerys’ hands brush through Daeny’s hair, pushing it away from her face, and trail down her back to explore her figure; Daenera weaves one hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the roots and eliciting a groan she feels through her other hand which rests on his chest. 

Without warning, Jace stands and without breaking their kiss carries Daeny with him as he makes his way to the bed, resting her gently on the linen sheets and covering her smaller body with his. All his insecurities and rage momentarily forgotten as he loses himself in her, the only girl he has ever had eyes for, and proves to her, and to himself, just how strong a lover he can be.

[benjinotes]

𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 (𝐩𝐭.𝟐) - benjicot blackwood (fancast)

summary: a few months after you and Benjicot start dating, your mom invites him to a family dinner.

pairing: benjicot blackwood x fem reader

warnings: whipped benji, over protective dad and older brother, sweet rhaenyra, modern au, smut, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy make out, rough sex (?), sweet but not innocent reader […]

n/a: reader is rhaenyra and harwin's daughter, her last name is strong, i don't know anything about american football

wc: 4.3K

don’t translate without my permission!

As he slammed the car door shut with a resounding thud, Benjicot ran a trembling hand through his hair, his nerves on edge. He took a deep breath for what felt like the thousandth time, trying to steady his racing heart, and clenched his fists tightly in a futile attempt to stop them from shaking any further.

To say he was nervous about tonight was an understatement—in fact, he was terrified, and knowing that this was a necessary step in his relationship with you, he did everything he could to remain calmer, which clearly wasn't working.

Every step he took felt calculated, almost as if he were on the field about to execute a crucial strategy. Perhaps it was a desperate attempt to hold on to the last vestiges of confidence he had left, remembering how on the field that confidence enveloped him like a comforting embrace.

There, however, he felt as if he would be strangled at any moment. The fear of disappointing your family at that dinner consumed him, but what distressed him even more was the possibility of disappointing you.

Benji knew that disappointing you would be one of the hardest things someone could do, since you were so sweet that you almost never held a grudge, no matter how much someone hurt you. But even so, he didn’t want to risk it happening.

You were the person who had supported him the most in recent months, and he knew that putting up with him was not an easy task—quite the opposite. That’s why he was absolutely sure that you were his most dedicated admirer, just as he was also your number one fan.

So, maybe that’s why he was so determined to put aside his explosive and often inappropriate behavior during the few hours the dinner would last. What seemed like an impossible challenge to many was, for him, exactly the opposite. Since you both started dating, he had become much calmer and more focused, which clearly shocked everyone around you.

However, for Benji, that was normal; after all, you were capable of bringing out the best version of anyone around you, and you made everything that was once an effort in Benji’s life become something natural and easy, almost as if he were floating in the relationship in a gentle and relaxing manner.

Your constant care and support not only smoothed his rough edges but also showed him a new way to live and love. And damn, he loved you so much it hurts.

So, maybe that’s why he was so willing to repay everything you had done for him. He wanted to make sure that this night was special, demonstrating how much you meant to him. And if that meant he had to face your parents and siblings, he was willing to do it a million times.

Yet, Benjicot couldn't shake the feeling of goosebumps that ran through his body when his finger touched the doorbell of your family's house, and he felt his palms sweat and anxiety washes over him as he heard the footsteps approaching from the inside. For a brief moment, it seemed like the sky above him was closing in a little more, and the sound of the doorknob turning and the creaking of the door as it opened only intensified his nervousness.

When the door opened, Benji swallowed hard, feeling anxiety rush through his veins, but as soon as he saw your pretty figure in front of the large doors, his heart skipped a beat with relief, and a smirk appeared on his face for a moment. Forgetting how sweaty his hands were, his eyes completely focused on you like always.

“You're a little early, don't you think?” You smiled in his direction as soon as you opened the front door, and when he noticed the slippers on your feet, he let out a short laugh, looking attentively behind you before placing his hands on your waist.

You raised an eyebrow at the gesture, but Benji could see the sweetness in your eyes despite the playful attitude.

"Well, I always like to come early for important occasions, sweetheart." He said with a light laugh, as his hands gently caressed your waist. Your hands instinctively moved to his arms, massaging them gently as you looked up at him with a loving smile.

“Besides.” He added in a tender tone, “I missed you.” He confessed in a low, but sincere voice and was met with your laughter, which seemed to dissolve the remaining anxiety he had. This only made his smile widen, genuinely happy to hear you laugh again.

“Did you miss me?” You asked with a giggle, bringing your body dangerously close to Benji's. His mischievous smile widened, almost making him forget where he was and why he was there. “We were together just a few hours ago.” you continued, your voice tinged with amusement, smiling again and letting your fingers lightly squeeze his arms. A light blush colored your cheeks as you remembered the intimate moment you two shared earlier that afternoon.

He looked behind you to see if anyone from your family was looking before moving a little closer to your body and tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, which made you blush, and he smiled at your reaction while humming softly, “It’s been too long.” With a soft murmur, he added. “The hours drag by when I’m away from you!” He said this in a playful tone, but the look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t lying.

You laughed loudly again, which made the corners of his mouth rise a little more, while his eyes were still focused on you. You could feel his breath almost mixing with yours.

“You seem very confident,” you teased, the confidence you had gained over the months of your relationship present in your voice, which still had the softness that Benji loved. "Let's see if you maintain that stance when we're having dinner with my family." At that, Benji's eyes widened, remembering what he was doing there.

Benjicot swallowed hard for a moment, and the sound of laughter from inside the house made him move away from your body a little; however, he still kept his hand around your waist, unable to move without touching you.

You, on the other hand, blinked gently, growing increasingly concerned at his lack of reaction. You couldn’t recall ever seeing him so nervous before. With a tender gesture, you moved your hand to his forehead, brushing away the rebellious strands that insisted on covering his green eyes. Quickly, you lifted your feet, still clad in fluffy slippers, to place a soft kiss on his cheek, hoping to offer him some sense of comfort despite his current state.

Upon feeling the soft touch on his cheek, Benji looked at you again, which led you to give him a brief kiss on the lips, causing his heart, previously racing with nervousness, to start beating at a calmer pace. However, seeing your lips move away so quickly, he couldn't help but be slightly disappointed, and he almost forgot the way your lips had explored his body that same day.

“You don't need to be nervous.” You spoke softly. "You already know my family; this is just a simple dinner." You pointed out, and Benjicot looked at you with half-closed eyes, tilting his head gently to the side.

The truth was that Benji had already met your family casually; Jace had been friends with him since they both ended up in the same economics class at university, and although Jace liked him as a teammate and classmate, Benji felt that, despite his friend's approval, Jace wasn't very excited about the idea that he would be his future brother-in-law.

Your mother, although she had an intimidating presence, made a point of making him feel welcome and treated him with affection. However, Benji knew that any mistake he made against you could provoke her fury. Your father was another story; the man always intimidated him immensely. Dealing with a former NFL player and team coach was scary enough; now knowing that this same player was your father made the situation even more complex, especially since you were his only girl.

What comforted him most at that moment was knowing that your younger brothers liked him and that your stepfather, Daemon, would not be present at that dinner.

"You always know how to calm me down, don’t you, sweetheart?" Benji murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth. He placed a tender kiss on the top of your head and then gently lowered his hands, hoping you'd intertwine your fingers with his.

"Of course I know." You smiled in amusement, intertwining your fingers with your boyfriend's, who gave your hand a light squeeze, seeking comfort in your sweet touch.

The sound of laughter from inside the house grew louder as a reminder of the night ahead, and he could have sworn he heard little Joffrey screaming from inside, which made the corners of his mouth turn up just a little. With your hand firmly in his, he felt a wave of calm and readiness. He looked at you, his eyes showing a bit of hesitation and excitement, almost as if he were eager for the challenge.

“Let’s get this over with,” Benji said in a low whisper, and you felt your skin crawl at the tone, which made him bite the inside of his cheek. However, you ignored his nervous gesture and pulled him inside by the hand with a little more force than usual.

As you two entered, the lively atmosphere of your home enveloped you both, along with the loud voices of your brothers, who seemed to be involved in yet another fight. You and your boyfriend laughed together as you watched Luke try to hit Jace in the face with one of his slippers.

Benji looked at you with amusement as he took in the lively scene before him. Noticing that your brothers were still wrapped up in their playful argument, you cleared your throat deliberately, hoping to regain some control over the situation.

The commotion subsided slightly as everyone, including Joffrey, who had almost tripped as he ran up from the back of the house, turned their attention toward you.

“Look who’s here!” you said, raising your voice to be heard above the remaining chaos. You gently released Benji’s hand and reached down to lift little Joffrey into your arms. As soon your youngest brother saw Benji, he stuck out his tongue in a playful gesture. Benji, catching the playful mood, responded by sticking out his own tongue, a grin spreading across his face as he enjoyed the lighthearted interaction.

"Benjicot," Jace greeted in a serious tone, his voice carrying a weight that made Benji tense up. Realizing that Jace would be more of a protective big brother than a supportive friend during this dinner, Benji bit the inside of his cheek, preparing himself for the challenge ahead.

"Jacaerys," Benji greeted back, trying to match the serious tone. You let go of your younger brother and gave your older brother a look of mild reprimand, but Jace just shrugged and pointed with his chin towards the dining room.

You and Benji exchanged quick glances—his filled with a touch of nervousness, yours a mix of excitement and worry.

"Mom and Dad are already in the dining room; we were just waiting for you," Luke interrupted, noticing his older brother's posture. Benji could see that Luke was trying hard not to grimace at Jace's behavior, which almost caused the corners of Benji's mouth to lift up a little. That was exactly why Luke was his favorite.

Giving Benji a reassuring glance, you guided him—almost dragging him—toward the dining room, with your siblings trailing behind. As he entered the spacious room, he took a deep breath and felt his tension ease upon seeing your parents chatting cheerfully.

You still remembered Benji’s shocked expression when you told him that your parents were divorced but maintained a civilized relationship. It was a situation quite unfamiliar to him, but he seemed to be starting to adjust to the unique family dynamics. You think, at least.

“Goodnight,” he greeted warmly as he smoothly pulled out your chair and helped you sit down. Rhaenyra glanced over with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with his considerate gesture.

“We haven’t started dinner yet,” your father said for the first time, flashing Benji a forced, overly polite smile. Benji, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach, took his seat next to you with a wary glance. “The evening only truly begins after we’ve had dinner,” Harwin continued, his tone carrying a hint of unspoken challenge.

You noticed your siblings trying to stifle their laughter, while your mother shot your father a disapproving look. Despite the subtle tension, Harwin remained unfazed, taking a slow sip of his wine as if nothing were amiss.

"Well then, good afternoon," Benji replied fast, and his lips curled into a slight smile as he saw you and your mother chuckling at his response. However, his smile quickly faded when he noticed your father's narrowed eyes fixed on him. The intensity of your father's gaze made him feel little, and he had to make an effort to maintain his composure under the scrutinizing attention.

He could see Jace smiling across the table, which made him lick his teeth.

You placed your hand gently on his side, whispering some words of comfort, which made him place his hand on top of yours.

“Harwin!” Rhaenyra called out with a firm tone, causing the man to straighten his back. You gave a satisfied smile at the interaction. “Stop scaring the poor boy!” she reprimanded. Harwin rolled his eyes but didn’t dare counter her; no one was foolish enough to do so.

“I’m glad you accepted my invitation,” she continued, this time turning her attention towards Benji, trying to move on from the awkward situation. Her tone softened as she spoke, and Benji gave her a grateful smile. 

“I'm truly glad you invited me,” he replied sincerely. Benji was surprised when he received the invitation from your mother. Although he had always had a good relationship with her, having met her a few times at football games, the situation was entirely different here.

Rhaenyra Targaryen was the woman who raised you and gave you life. It was thanks to her that you were who you were, and Benji felt a deep gratitude for that. Moreover, he knew she was your greatest inspiration, and he was thankful for being welcomed by her so warmly.

“Benjicot,” your father said, his tone surprisingly calm, yet Benji could sense the underlying threat. The interruption made everyone at the table pause and shift their attention to Benji, who tensed under Harwin’s piercing gaze. You squeezed Benji’s thigh unconsciously, a mix of concern and apprehension evident in your gesture.

"Do you really care about my daughter, or is this just a desperate attempt to get attention after last season?" Harwin's question cut through the air, and your eyes widened in shock as you felt a slight tremor run through you.

The dining room fell silent, but Rhaenyra remained composed, her posture unwavering as she understood her ex-husband's intentions. Jace, on the other hand, looked visibly irritated at the prospect of such a notion being true.

"Dad!" You scolded, your voice tinged with irritation. Benji had never seen you so visibly shaken, and his heart ached at the sight of your agitation. "What on earth are you trying to do?" you hissed, your hand unconsciously tightening its grip on Benji's thigh as you struggled to keep your composure.

Your father shrugged, a glint of challenge in his eyes. “I’m just asking a question,” he said, his tone casual but laced with an edge. He turned to Benji, his gaze piercing. “Are you afraid to answer?”

Benji’s free hand tightened into a fist, and he let out a frustrated sigh, using his other hand to gently massage yours. “I’m not afraid, Coach Strong,” he said through clenched teeth, attempting to ignore the smirk on your father’s face and the worried glances from your younger siblings.

"Then answer me." The oldest said this, tilting his chin towards his daughter's boyfriend.

You were about to open your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, Benji cleared his throat.

“I love your daughter,” Benji began, his voice steady. The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on him as he continued. “I’m not using her to seek attention or validation—quite the opposite.” His tone grew more sincere, though it remained firm. “She means everything to me. From the moment I wake up until I fall asleep, she’s on my mind, and I’m certain she never leaves it. Her kindness and the way she inspires me to be a better person are invaluable. I may not know exactly when these feelings began, but they are deep and, above all, sincere.”

He paused, taking a deep breath, as he met Harwin’s gaze directly, which now held a hint of pride. “She didn’t make me fall in love with her suddenly or temporarily. Instead, she guided me to walk in love with her, and this journey has been so soothing that I believe it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever done unconsciously. And I’m grateful that she reciprocates my feelings.”

After his confession, you bit your lip hard, torn between the urge to cry or leap into his arms. As you looked around, you saw that your mother was already struggling against tears, deeply moved by his words and overwhelmed with happiness. Jace seemed to relax too.

The room remained silent for a moment, the weight of Benji’s sincere confession hanging in the air. Your father’s stern expression softened slightly, though his eyes still held a trace of scrutiny. He took a sip of wine, his gaze lingering on Benji with newfound respect.

Rhaenyra, her eyes shining with gratitude, lightly touched her rings. “Thank you, Benjicot,” she said softly. “It means a lot to hear how much you care about my girl.” She leaned in his direction, and he merely nodded, uncertain of what to say.

Harwin nodded, a slight, proud smile breaking through his usually serious demeanor. “It seems you really care about my daughter, and that’s something I respect,” he said, making you raise an eyebrow, realizing it had all been a test.

However, Benji, gave a relieved smirk, licking the inside of his cheek, and gently squeezed your hand. You looked at him, gratitude and love evident in your eyes, and he couldn’t help but notice how your chest rose and fell gently.

“Well then,” Rhaenyra said, breaking the silence. “Let’s enjoy dinner; Joffrey is getting impatient.” She laughed as she noticed the youngest child in the room, who was now mumbling about wanting ice cream.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as your mother’s words eased the tension, and the dinner proceeded in a more relaxed manner. Your father's stern expression softened to contained approval, and Benji, now more at ease, engaged in the conversation. As the evening went on, you leaned slightly towards Benjicot, your smile suggesting a hint of intimacy after the dinner.

It wasn't Benjicot your father had to worry about after all.

〰️ 〰️ 〰️

The rain pounded against the windows, obscuring the outside world. Inside the car, you and Benjicot were locked in a fiery embrace, mouths hungrily exploring each other's. The heat between you intensified as your hands roamed freely, every kiss and touch deepening the passion. 

He didn't know exactly when the making out had started. One moment you were giving him a suggestive smile at the family dinner; the next, your mother had asked you to get ice cream for your younger brother, who was throwing a tantrum. Suddenly, you were pulling him into the back seat of his old car, and ripping off your bra with urgent intensity. But, in any case, he couldn't complain, especially with your hips moving in circular motions on top of him.

He was sure this was one of the best secrets you had, and he made sure to make the most of it.

"Benji," you whispered breathlessly as he trailed kisses down your neck, each touch sending shivers through you. His mouth lingered, teasingly slow, as he moved lower, leaving a trail of hot, insistent pressure. The deliberate pace only heightened your anticipation, making the ache between you more intense as his lips finally reached your hard nipples, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Hmm?" He murmured as he circled his tongue around your nipple, almost letting out a moan himself when he noticed the pressure you were applying with your hips on his already hard cock, and this made him squeeze your ass almost unconsciously but still tightly.

"I need you," you moaned, and he looked up at you with an amused expression, still sucking on your nipple, waiting for you to continue. "Please," you almost begged.

He chuckled softly before pulling your head down to capture your lips again. As you opened your mouth in surprise, he took the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside, turning the kiss into a fervent clash of tongues and teeth.

"Of course, sweetheart," he responded with a hoarse voice. Before you had time to react, he lifted you from his lap and leaned you against the car seat, kneeling in the limited space he had.

Benji looked imposing, kneeling in front of you and completely ignoring the cramped space of his car. He pulled you by the waist with a strange mix of strength and gentleness, just for you, slowly moving your panties aside and making you lean back against the car seat until your pussy was directly in front of his blushing face. He smiled as he watched how eager and wet you were for his attention.

You were already panting, looking directly at Benjicot's face between your legs as his hazel eyes met yours with a mix of anticipation and amusement. His arms wasted no time in holding your thighs, which seemed extremely restless and eager to close with just the brief touch of his breath near your wet entrance, making him whisper a few inaudible and disjointed words before pressing his cheeks against the sensitive part of your thighs and giving your clit a painfully long, slow lick.

As you pulled harder on his hair, he buried his face deeper into your cunt, diving in and eating you out with precision. He was satisfied with the loud moans you let out from the sensation of his flexible muscle inside you, hungry and relentless. You didn't even know when the moans turned into screams.

Benjicot didn't cared about that, though.

Since there was no technique or precision in the way he devoured you, there was only animalistic hunger and fervent passion as his tongue flicked against your sex and his nose rubbed against your clit, leaving you so drunk with pleasure that the next thing that made you squeal was feeling his fingers massaging you while his mouth sucked the spot his nose had just been.

You looked at him as your body started to weaken, and when you noticed the intensity in his eyes, you had to close yours quickly. This only made him grip your legs even tighter, the veins in his arms bulging as your orgasm hit you like a torrent, completely coating his chin.

However, he seemed unwilling to stop.

Benjicot continued with fierce determination, his movements growing even more frenzied as his tongue and now fingers worked together to prolong your pleasure. You were at his mercy, each wave of ecstasy more intense than the last, and he showed no signs of tiring, intent on pushing you to your limits repeatedly.

"Benji," you choked out. "I can't, I can't!" you repeated over and over, your voice trembling with desperation. Your body gave way as the second orgasm of the night crashed over you, leaving you breathless and weak. He finally released you, his grip loosening as you collapsed, exhausted and spent, into the car seat.

He pulled his body away, eyes still burning with desire as he looked at you. You were there, your body shaking and covered in sweat, trying to catch your breath. The car seat was cold against you overheated skin, and the traces of pleasure still hung in the air. Benjicot wiped his chin, a satisfied smile on his lips as he watched you recover from the intense waves of ecstasy.

He looked at you with an intense expression, then, with a playful tone, spoke softly. “You’re so sweet, sweetheart,” he said with a smile as he sat beside you, pulling you against his bare tattooed chest.

You slowly opened your eyes, still trying to steady your breath. “Benji,” you murmured, your body still trembling.

He tilted his head, his touch now tender as you tried to recover. “I mean what I said at dinner. You’re everything to me, and I love you,” he whispered, his usually rough voice softened with affection reserved only for you.

Smiling warmly, you pulled his head down and pressed your lips to his once more. Completely forgetting the real reason you two were in the car.

well anyways — good night!! (shitty smut but yeah)

tag list: @h-0-error @whiteoakoak @spider-stark @rebeccawinters @knight-of-flowerss @weird-things-i-think-about @rhaenys-nyra @haydee5010 0 @hobis-hope95

— English is not my first language, so please be understanding if you saw any grammar mistake!

[hairmetal666]

He hates Steve Harrington, everything about him. His stupid, upbeat pop music. His tall fucking hair. His annoyingly bright clothes. His bullshit German luxury car.

Eddie hates that Steve's a good guy. Hates that he carried Eddie's broken and dying body out of hell. Hates that the kids love him how they do. Hates that he and Robin Buckley are the kind of best friends who might as well be siblings. Hates the way that Jonathan is back and Nancy is happy, and Steve has no resentment about any of it. Hates that he'll never, for as long as he lives, forget about six kids and a Winnebago.

And he hates, more than anything of all, the way he's always finding himself in Steve's bed. The way he falls apart when Steve is deep inside, the way he begs for more, pleads for Steve to wreck him. The way Steve treats him so good that it makes him sob.

Eddie hates himself for not being able to stop. For wanting Steve so much that sometimes he feels it as a visceral ache in the back of his molars. He hates himself for how little fight his dumb traitor heart puts into not being astronomically down bad in love with the guy immediately.

And none of this is supposed to flow from his brain to his tongue to out of his mouth, but Steve fucks him so good and slow--gives him the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life--that it all just slips out of the safe confines of his mind.

"I fucking hate you," he says. Or pants, more like, he's all flushed and sweaty and covered in come, not yet settled back to himself.

"W-what?" Steve stutters. He's standing at the edge of the bed, damp towel clenched in his fist.

True, full consciousness strikes then and he doesn't know what else to say. Steve's big eyes are wide and sad, and Eddie's brain is screaming at him to fix it, and isn't that just another thing that he hates?

"Steve. Like. Fucking look at yourself, man." He waves his hand up Harrington's perfect body. "You're the most beautiful fucking thing in the universe. And you--you embody like every fucking thing I'm supposed to hate with your money and your athletic ability, and your whole goddamn clean-cut All-American boy next door bullshit. And I--I keep ending up here when everything in me says to run away, that this--you--are too good to be fucking true."

And Steve, he's pinching the bridge of his nose, looking more than anything like he's trying not to burst into tears and this--this cannot be borne.

"I love you so fucking much." His voice cracks and he reaches out to circle his fingers around Steve's wrist, the one holding the towel. "I love you so much and I don't deserve even a second of it. Not a minute. Because you're Steve Harrington, you're--"

Steve presses his hand (he hates the the wide palms and long fingers, how they're perfect, how they hold him and comfort him and wring out pleasure again and again like it's nothing, like Steve's hands were made for making Eddie come) over Eddie's mouth. "Shut-up, Munson," he says.

"I fucking hate you too." There's ease in the way he says it, a lightness in his eyes. "I hate that you don't use conditioner. I hate that your van makes that turkey gobble sound every time you turn a corner, and you refuse to let me look at it. I hate how loud you play your music, how it makes my fucking skin shake. I hate when you forget to take the damn chains off your jeans when you put them in the wash."

Steve climbs into bed, straddling him, towel long forgotten. "You know what else I fucking hate, Eddie?" He leans down, ghosting his lips against the tip of Eddie's nose, skimming his mouth. "I hate that I've never loved anyone like I love you. I hate that I almost fucking lost you. I hate that we can't spend every minute in this goddamn bed, so I can memorize every inch of your skin, every sound you make, every single way I tear you apart, and all of the things that put you back together. I love you, Ed. Every fucking terrible part."

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Tim and Danny are half-siblings

Champagne glasses shine in the light like jewelry on people’s wrists and necks and cuff links and literally anywhere else someone can fit. Honestly it’s giving Tim a headache.

Thankfully he wasn’t the only one suffering at this pointless gala. Not that the fundraiser for homeless kids in the city is pointless, but did they really need to throw an expensive party?

“You okay, Timmy? You’ve sighed like four times now,” Dick comments on the comms they all have in.

“Yea, I just-“

“Mr. Drake! How nice it is to see you again. Have you met my son, Daniel?”

Tim turns to find Vlad Masters, CEO of dalvco, dragging along a teen who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here. The boy, Daniel, glares at the hand holding him by the arm.

“It’s Danny,” like it was the hundredth time saying the phrase.

Masters pretends he doesn’t hear it.

Tim is already working on how to get out of this conversation. He’s dealt with too many parents pushing their kids in his direction tonight.

He throws on a smile anyway and holds out his hand for a shake.

“Tim Drake-Wayne, nice to meet you, Danny.”

Danny hesitates for a second and it results in a tightening of the jaw and subtle glance to where he was glaring before as if Masters just tightened his grip on the teen. Tim says nothing about the awkward pause.

Danny shifts his weight to subtly step on Masters polish shoes, drawing the attention of the man and allowing Danny to slip a piece of paper into the handshake. Tim raises his eyebrows for Danny to see before falling back to pleasant neutral. He tucks the note into his pocket casually.

“Same.”

Tim’s smile becomes a bit more genuine at the teenage behavior.

“Now then,” Masters jumps in after getting himself situated, “I had been meaning to make an appointment with you, but every time I call you are always busy.”

Tim knew this was coming.

“I’m not receiving any calls about the Drake name, Mr. Masters, as you are well aware.”

“You would think that as a young businessman you would look to someone with more experience.”

He really wasn’t being subtle at all, was he?

“I wonder how Bruce would react if he heard you,” Tim warns even though he knows full well Bruce can actively hear the conversation. He turns to Danny while Masters is recovering from that reminder. “Our newest adoptee is about your age. Duke Thomas. He should be around here somewhere if you want to exchange numbers.”

Danny opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off. Masters’ hand goes from clenching the teen’s arm to squeezing his shoulder in what appears to be a warning.

“Oh no, I forgot to mention, Daniel’s entire family and his friends, along with an unfortunate teacher, all died recently in a terrible accident. I was given custody of the poor boy, of course. He’s like the son I never had. Anyway, we wouldn’t want to upset him by replacing what he recently lost, would we? He needs his space to grieve.”

The condescension with the insensitive wording left Tim speechless for a moment, and with the silence over the comms so were everyone else listening.

Tim finds Danny glaring down at the floor with clenched fists. The teen rips himself away from Masters, and when the man tries to chastise him, he turns and stares the man down with such a hateful expression that Tim had to keep from tensing. He had seen too many of those looks in the field, usually on the faces of those he was fighting.

Whatever silent conversation that was happening between the two was ended with Danny grinding his teeth and running away to what looks to be the direction of the restrooms.

“So sorry about him,” Masters apologizes like it wasn’t his fault Danny almost committed a crime. “He’s a bit sensitive right now. I honestly had hoped he would feel better after getting out of the house.”

Masters sighs almost theatrically, “Enough of that. Here is my business card for when you finally decide to-“

Tim walked away before he could finish.

It’s in the bathroom that he finds Duke talking to the door of one of the stalls. They make eye contact but all that’s there is concern and confusion. Danny wasn’t talking.

“Hey, Danny, right? How you holding up? That was kinda rough, huh?” Tim tries.

Silence. Then, “Did you read my note?” He hears come from the other side, small and thin.

Right. The note. Tim pulls it out of his pocket quickly.

“Yea, yea, I read your note,” he lies as he’s quietly unfolding said note. “It’s just, you know… oh.”

Duke raises his brows in surprise at Tim’s sudden change in tone and expression. Tim couldn’t even guess what his face was doing but it was the least of his worries. The younger leans in to read over his shoulder.

“Oh,” agrees Duke.

I think we are half-siblings. Please help me take him down. I’ll send DNA if you need it. It can’t wait.

Oh indeed.

“What does ‘oh’ mean?” Dick suddenly asks over the comms which Tim forgot were still in. “Guys, seriously, do I need to come in there?”

“No,” Tim answers quickly only to realize that Danny can hear it too. “Duke, can you cover the door?”

“Sure, man.”

Tim takes a deep breath and shoves his emotions way down. Danny was already upset and obviously trusting Tim with this, he needed to be a solid support that his little brother this teen can lean on.

It could also be a trap.

“Danny, can you come out please?”

There was hesitation in the air, but he finally hears the click of the lock and the door swings open. The poor kid was holding himself tightly and shrinking into himself, afraid of Tim’s reaction.

“Danny,” he says gently. Danny still flinches. “Why do you think we’re half-siblings?”

He lets the teen chew on his lip for a few moments before he has to repeat himself.

“I was going through my parent’s stuff,” Danny rushes out, “like paperwork and stuff… I found a box pushed way back with letters. At first I thought they were my parents’ old love letters, but it wasn’t my dad’s handwriting even though he signed it ‘Jack’. There was also a picture of my mom and your dad together on an excavation site. The date on the back made a lot of sense because when you add nine months, that’s my birthday.”

Danny looked at Tim with such a lost expression that Tim felt a bit lost himself.

“I never would have thought my dad would cheat on my mom. He was too afraid of what would happen if he did, I thought,” Tim says, leaning into it a little.

“Right? I never thought my mom would, my parents were infatuated with each other, but maybe they were having problems at the time? I don’t know, I didn’t actually read the letters.”

“Can I look through them?”

Danny blinks and then rubs the back of his neck anxiously.

“I mean, yea, but they’re back at my parent’s house in Illinois. I would have to find a way to send them to you, but Vlad is kinda watching my every move at the moment so-“

“What if I went alone?” Tim jumps in the suggest. “I have enough money to go on a mini vacation. I could sneak in when everyone’s asleep and find them.”

“Honestly I doubt it’s locked. You could just walk right in. If you don’t mind the wasted gas, then okay, sure. Need the address?”

Tim respects the confidence and trust.

“Nah, I got it, but I will still need that DNA sample.”

Danny swallows nervously.

“Right, um, what- what do you need? I don’t know how this works.”

Tim nods and a smile to calm the teen down. His nervousness was definitely noted though.

“That’s okay. I’ve done this plenty of times with women who claim their child is Bruce’s. Always ends the same.”

Funnily enough, Danny relaxes at the reassurance lined with warning.

“Oh, that’s good. Okay. Just tell me what you need. Can we do it right now?”

Danny glances at the door and Tim understands the rush.

“Sure, come here,” Tim waves them over to the little sitting area. He pulls out his pocket knife with a mischievous smirk. “Don’t tattle on me.”

Danny stares with a wide smile and even wider eyes. It’s kinda funny how excited he is when most people would wonder why Tim was pulling a knife on them. Maybe they were brothers.

“Whoa, how’d you sneak that in? There was a whole metal detector and everything,” Danny fans.

“A true magician never reveals his tricks,” he smiles at Danny’s pout.

“Lame. You probably paid off one of the waiters or something.”

He actually planted it in one of the plants inside before the event even started, but the kid was close.

“Or something.”

“I always wanted one,” Danny murmurs wistfully.

“I’ll get you one,” is out of his mouth before he knew it.

“What?” Danny jerks up in surprise. “No, you don’t have to do that. I wasn’t expecting-“

“I know,” Tim cuts off the guilty ramblings. “I want to. You should have one.”

“Aw, little Timmy is bonding with his brother,” Dick coos over the comms.

“We don’t know that for sure, Richard,” Damian reminds.

“He sounds pretty legit to me,” Duke adds.

Tim ignores them for the most part.

“Lift up your leg. I’m just gonna give you a small cut on your calf to get some blood. It’ll be quick, okay?”

“Okay.”

Danny doesn’t make a sound when metal meets skin and slices through. He presses down on the wound with his handkerchief to collect the blood. Of course that wasn’t enough for him to cover all the bases, so he asked Danny to spit in his empty champagne glass, which the teen complied with zero complaints.

“Is that it?” Danny asks curiously.

“Yep! I’ll run them down to the lab ASAP and compare against mine. I’ll let you know about the results when they come back. Let me get your phone number.”

Tim was quietly getting more hopeful with how cooperative Danny had been. He hands over his phone easily with a chirped “sure!” to also let Tim put in his number.

“We have to be careful though. Vlad’s been over my shoulder since I moved in. If he finds anything he doesn’t like, it won’t be good,” Danny laughed it off like that was normal.

Tim had suspected a heavy hand with the shoulder squeezing earlier bordering on abuse with what and how he said what he did, but it was looking worse than his original hypothesis.

“Danny,” he says softly, like when he talks to a victim as Robin. Which might ring true here and Tim was already getting angry about the whole thing, if the abuse is real, he might fly off the handle and Kon will be forced to reign him back in. “Do you want to tell me about Masters?”

Danny immediately goes on the defensive, looking around the empty room and shoulders going stiff.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Danny denies.

Tim isn’t surprised, but he also isn’t happy.

“I have more power than you might think, Danny. I can help you.”

Danny shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I don’t- You- It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me. Please trust me, Danny. I can help get you out-“

“This isn’t about me!”

His words ring off the tile, making it louder than intended. Danny flinches at the sound and looks to the door with anxious eyes.

“Hey,” Tim whispers. It still makes the teen jump. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“I know that,” Danny snaps, but Tim knows not to take it personally.

“Alright,” Tim agrees easily. That seems to make Danny relax a bit. “What did you mean it’s not about you? It’s your DNA we’re checking against mine.”

Danny bites his lip in anxious contemplation. Looks like Tim is gonna have to pull this one out like teeth.

“Is there someone else involved?”

Danny hesitates but finally nods.

“You can trust me, Danny. I won’t do anything that isn’t in your best interest. I promise.”

Danny’s lip is bleeding but neither of them say a word. He looks desperate and alone. It makes Tim’s skin crawl.

“Promise you won’t do anything yet?”

Tim nearly sighs with relief.

“Yes. I promise.”

“So you won’t tell? You can’t tell,” Danny insists.

Technically it wouldn’t be telling if they can hear him in real time.

“I promise I won’t do or say anything. Whatever is said here is confidential, alright? I won’t tell anyone,” Tim assures.

It seems to do the trick because Danny creeps closer to whisper after checking the door one more time.

“Vlad is my godfather. Uncle Vlad, right? He has always wanted a son and he was obsessed with my mom, so when he met me he, I don’t know, flipped a switch or something and his attention was on me all the time if it wasn’t on Mom. He wanted me to renounce my dad and go live with him. Obviously that didn’t happen so he tried the next best thing apparently and decided he was gonna make a clone of me.”

Danny pauses and Tim needs it to seriously contemplate what even is his life.

“It didn’t work out the way he planned and the only clone to make it was a girl, my cousin, Danielle. Yes, he named her after me. Some things happened, we worked it out, so Danielle was on my side and hates Vlad, right? Well, when everything happened,” he swallows thickly, “Danielle came back from traveling to be with me. Vlad took that opportunity to confine her to the basement. He never wanted a daughter. He never cared about her. So now he’s using her as leverage against me. If I try anything or don’t do what he says, she’s the one that gets punished. If I try to run away, he’d kill her. I know he would. And before I knew about you, she was the only-“

“The only family you had left,” Tim finishes.

Danny nods with a pleading expression.

Tim can understand the primal urge to be close to a blood relative that actually cares.

“Now you have me,” Tim offers with a small smile.

Danny makes the effort to try and smile back, though it falls flat quickly.

“We don’t know that yet. I could be wrong. I’m sorry I threw all this at you, I just- When I found those letters and thought that… I just-“

“I get it.” And he did. He really, really did. “You know, even if we aren’t related I still want to-“

Danny’s phone rings, making the teen jump. He glances at the name calling with a scowl. He doesn’t answer.

“Vlad’s looking for me. I gotta go, but, um, thanks… for taking my word for it and being so nice about it. I promise I’m not trying to pull something for your money. I didn’t even know you were rich until I looked you up-“

“Danny.” Tim was coming to the conclusion that Danny tend to ramble when nervous. He stands and guides the kid toward the door. “It’s okay. I know you’re not lying. I’ll text you the results, okay? We’ll figure this out. Just be patient for me, alright?”

Danny nods and fidgets with his suit coat. He doesn’t make a move to leave yet, instead he turns to face Tim.

“Um, you can say no. I just- is it okay if I hug you?”

Tim blanks for a solid few seconds. It’s only Dick’s cooing and Damian’s sassing that snaps him back to reality. This was real, he has to remind himself. He might have a half-brother and he wants a hug. Tim can do hugs. He can crush a hug, totally.

“Uh, yea. Hugs are okay.”

Danny must not care about his awkward response because he suddenly has thin arms around his waist and soft hair tickling his cheek. They were at the ideal height difference where Danny can rest his head on Tim’s shoulder comfortably. Tim wraps his arms around the teen’s shoulders and just felt.

If Danny really is his half-brother, then fate really is cruel to deprive him of this kinship all throughout his childhood.

Danny pulls away first, face to the ground, and ears red.

With a wavering voice he stumbles out an apology and a thanks before bolting out the door, narrowly running into Dick. He’s disappeared into the crowd in a blink.

“You okay, Tim?” Dick asks.

Tim blinks, “I have a brother.”

“A possible half-brother, but yea, still exciting.”

“The results will come back a match,” Tim says confidently.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Drake. This Daniel sounds pathetic, he would only hold you back.”

“Damian, there is nothing pathetic about trying to protect someone. Danny is thinking about his little cousin,” Dick argues. Damian doesn’t dispute.

“My parents never loved each other,” Tim confesses. “It was a marriage of mutual convenience. It is very possible that my dad found a lover outside their marriage.”

It was weird talking about his parents like that, but it was true. His mother told him once that marriage isn’t about love, it’s a contract between two people with mutual interests and values. His father was always somewhat withdrawn.

Danny had the black hair, the blue eyes, and even the skin tone to match his own. His jaw line was wider and eyebrows thicker, but honestly, they could be brothers if they stood side by side. Half-siblings isn’t even a stretch.

“He’s my brother. I know it.”

Tim spots a flash of silver hair from the crowd and narrows his eyes into slits.

“My brother who is being abused by his caretaker apparently,” he says in a voice that sounds like he’s planning a murder.

Huh. Now that’s a thought.

He could just kill Masters, that would certainly get him out of the way.

“I don’t like that look,” Dick says cautiously, leaning to bring Tim attention to him and not Masters hunting down his little brother. “We’ll help him, Tim. Don’t go overboard here. You can’t afford to get too emotionally involved.”

Tim sends a glare his way.

“Why don’t I prove what I already know, then?”

“Tim-“

He already had the champagne glass in his jacket pocket and his handkerchief in his breast pocket. He shoves past Dick and heads toward the front doors. No one stops him as he leaves the party early and hails a cab back to the manor to start his analysis.

It’s a half a day later when Tim sends a text with an emoji of two males holding hands and a green check mark. It’s an hour later that he gets a shooting star in response. He smiles widely and then gets to work on planning Masters’ demise and his brother’s and ‘cousin’s’ escape into his custody.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Race

Grace Clinton x Hamilton!Reader

Summary: Racing at its finest

"And Verstappen comes around the second to last corner! It's tight! It is tight! But he's got it!"

Grace stares at the screen, eyes wide.

"The Hamilton siblings come out neck and neck on the same turn."

You battle it out with your brother, slamming your foot down as his attention wavers.

You'd been waiting for this for a while. It had always been harder for you than Lewis, you always had to push harder, further, faster just because you were a girl.

But you were good.

You knew you were good.

He knew you were good.

"And Hamilton's Mercedes makes way for Hamilton's Ferrari!"

Ferrari knew you were good.

You floored it, leaving your brother in the dust.

Grace clenches her fists.

"Hamilton is gaining on Verstappen on the last corner. Verstappen attempts defensive manoeuvres but...Verstappen still in the lead! Hamilton is trying to get past...On the straight now. And...And...Hamilton is leading! Hamilton is leading in the last seconds of the British Grand Prix! Verstappen tries to reclaim but-but- She's done it! Y/n Hamilton, the first woman to win a Grand Prix in F1 history!"

The room erupts as you cross over the line and Grace can hear you over the radio.

"Thank fuck!"

"Congratulations, y/n. First win for you."

You pant over the radio as you begin to slow down your car. "Where did Lewis rank?"

"Third. You beat Verstappen by two tenths of a second."

"Is Grace there? Can I talk to Grace?"

She grabs the radio. "I'm here, babe. I'm here. I'm so proud of you."

You cheer in the car. "D'you like it? I told you you'd like it!"

Grace laughs. "I could do without the near misses. Is your brother going to be annoyed you passed him?"

"Hey, there's a reason he's moving to my team's greener pastures. You coming out to see me, superstar?"

Your car rolls to a stop and Grace comes bursting out to see you. You're standing up on the frame of your car, looking at the fans as you take off your helmet, fist pumped into the air.

You jump down when you notice her, crushing her into a hug.

"You're sweaty!" She laughs.

"Like you have anything to say. Sweaty footballer, you are!"

Grace just keeps laughing, letting you pick her up and spin her around.

Lewis pulls up next as Grace fists the front of your outfit and tugs you into a heady kiss.

"Well done," He says to you," But do you have to do that in public?"

You grin. "Yeah. Not to brag but I just won. I think I'm allowed to kiss my girlfriend."

He groans good naturedly, bumping your shoulder with his. "You're going to use that as an excuse all the time, aren't you?"

"You know me so well."

You keep your hand laced with Grace's as you head up to the podium through the backways of the building.

"World Champion next year then?" She teases, completely relaxed under your arm.

You flash her a grin. "Is that what you want? 'Cause I can do that for you. I want a WSL title in return though."

"I can arrange that."

There's no one else around you. It's just you and her and you steal another kiss while no one is there to complain.

She gasps into your mouth but reciprocates quickly, one hand on your hip while the other cups the back of your neck.

"What would you say if I tell you that you looked so fit driving that car?" She whispers against your lips.

"I'd say that I was wearing a massive helmet that covered my face so there's no way I looked fit at all."

"Then I'd say it must have been your voice," Grace replies," All rugged and angry when Norris cut you up in the ninth lap."

"That sounds more reasonable," You say," You look fit when you kick around a ball for ninety minutes."

"Good." Grace draws back, lacing your fingers with hers as she pulls you to start walking again. "Now, go get that trophy so I can capitalise on just how fit you actually are."

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.7

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Ch. Notes: Angst, Violence, Emotional, translations: Moye ditya= my child moye serdtse= my heart

Summary: Y/n, Wanda, and Pietro are forced to prepare for the worst after learning of the one on one meeting Dragos has set up with Kingpin.

An: Hey 🫣, Please don't be mad. It feels wrong to say I hope you enjoy this one but... I hope we can recover from this together 💜

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The sound of your office door slamming was enough to startle some of the other employees working. You were relatively good at keeping your cool, but your skin felt like it was on fire. Your fists keep clenching and unclenching, trying to find some outlet for the anger.

Pietro and Wanda watch carefully from outside your door as you try to subdue your anger. Wanda wants to go in and comfort you, but Pietro stops her.

“She doesn’t need you to go in there and coddle her,” he speaks to his sister.

“Well, I’m not planning to just watch her like this,” Wanda tries again, but Pietro’s grip on her becomes firmer.

“Wanda she’s not the same- “

Wanda cuts him off, “Y/n told me, that anything I want to know about her can come directly from her. So, if you want to stand out here and watch her suffer, that’s on you. However, I’m checking on our friend.”

Wanda softly raps on the door before entering your office. You don’t move, it’s like she’s not even there. Not until she’s kneeling on the floor next to you. Her hand rests gently on your knee.

“Talk to me little krolik,” it’s soft, merely a suggestion. Wanda is content with the silence, but she wanted to give you the option to talk.

“Wanda she’s not in the mood to-”

Pietro is cut off, by your eyes locking on his. The gaze is harsh enough to shut him up immediately. Even though tears are building behind your eyes, anger seems to be the primary emotion coursing through your body.

“I can’t believe he’s doing this,” you speak not looking at either sibling. “It’s reckless, it’s careless, it’s naïve. Why would he put himself in danger like this? Does he not know that we need him?”

“Papa is doing what he thinks is best to avoid war,” Pietro states, though he barely believes his own words.

“Or he’s giving Kingpin the opportunity to start it with a bang,” you counter.

Wanda takes a sharp breath, “All we can do is prepare for the worst.”

“Wanda, you don’t think that papa will be, okay?” There’s something in Pietro’s tone that sounds fragile. He sounds like a scared little boy. You had almost forgotten that he could sound that way.

“We all think he’s making a mistake. There will be consequences and fallout regardless of the outcome. Papa seems to think he’s preventing a war, but the true war has already started. Kingpin is flipping our associates, encroaching on our properties, and trying to make us a non-factor. The war is here. If he does anything stupid during this meeting, we could end up without a leader.”

“Vulnerable to attacks, we could lose everything,” you add, rubbing your temples.

“What are we going to do?”

Your hand absent-mindedly finds Wanda’s that rests on your knee. You play with her digits as you speak, “If anything happens to Dragos we can’t afford to fall back or lay low. Kingpin and everyone else will assume we are weak and that would be the end of us. We’d have to make a power play, something to show that we are and always will be on top.”

Wanda takes in your features as you speak. Your eyes are hard, and your jaws clenched. There’s a vein along your neck that’s pulsing with your words. As tense as you look, there’s something so calm around you. The hand that’s playing with Wanda’s fingers moves delicately across her knuckles, a complete contrast to the rest of your body language. Wanda thinks you look like a leader.

“We can make an example out of someone?” Pietro hypothesizes.

Wanda adds in her thoughts, “Or something.”

“The docks. We’re getting out shipments primarily through planes and trains, but everyone else uses the docks,” you begin to explain.

“If we target the docks, which means people would have no choice but to come through us for their goods,” Wanda finishes your thoughts.

Pietro is in disbelief, “You guys want to blow up the docks?”

“We could blow them up or we could just make them unable to be used,” Wanda offers a different option.

“Oil spill; stopped the ports for months in California a few years back. No materials could be sent through and the stuff at the docks had to be thrown out because of contamination,” you try to suggest, but it sounds like you made up your mind.

Wanda nods, “I could send Natasha some resources and she could make this concrete enough to put into motion.”

“She’d need to have this ready in potentially 2 to 3 days. If something happens at that meeting, we will need to have this ready quickly.” You begin typing on your computer, to see if you can locate any ships transporting oil passing through in the next few days.

“What can I do?” Pietro asks.

“You need to support Natasha. Wanda’s going to be sending her a lot of information and if you’re there to go over the nuisances it’ll make things easier for everyone.”

“I can head over now,” he says, and you give him a curt nod. He leaves the room once again leaving just you and Wanda.

Wanda breaks the silence, “You’re a natural leader, little krolik.”

You blush at her words and shake your head, “I’m just trying to make sure this empire that your family built doesn’t fall apart. It’s the least I could do after all that you’ve done for me.”

“Our family; you are a part of it,” Wanda corrects you.

“Flora and Dragos are the parents that mine couldn’t be. I know they’re your actual parents and that maybe it's selfish of me to worry, but if anything were to happen to either of them; I don’t know what I’d do,” your hands shoot up to cover your eyes.

You don’t want your tears to fall in front of her. Wanda had seen you cry a lot when you were younger, softer, but this version of yourself; she didn’t cry. She was supposed to be able to hold her emotions. However, the thought of losing the man that had given her everything in this world, was terrifying to her.

Wanda is gentle as she runs a hand through your hair, “It’s a scary thought, losing mama or papa. I’ve thought about it a lot, and it never becomes less scary. The only thing that helps is that I know I won’t have to feel this way on my own.”

“I hate that we have to talk about him like he’s already dead,” your hands stay over your eyes.

“Me too.”

Wanda’s hand in your hair is the only thing keeping you from breaking down. The speaker in your office breaks the building silence.

“Y/n, I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Maximoff has just left,” you hear Kate’s voice announce.

“Thanks for letting me know Katie,” you answer her, as you feel the gravity of the situation set in.

“Y/n… there’s a car in the parking garage with his destination programmed into the GPS,” Kate gives you the information and your ears perk up.

“Kate, did you-”

“Perks of setting up a meeting is knowing exactly where it is. If you go now, you can tail him at a respectable distance just to make sure he’s safe.”

You waste no time getting out of your seat, “God Katie, you’re the best.”

“Anything for you Y/nn and anything for the family of course.”

With Pietro already out of the office, it would be just Wanda and yourself tailing Dragos. When you got to the car Kate had ready for you, Wanda offers to drive. You let her and take the passenger seat quickly texting Pietro the location of the meeting but telling him to stay put unless you message him again.

Your leg bounces recklessly as Wanda drives. The nerves you worked hard to tame seem to be back in full force. The ride feels uncharacteristically quiet, but there isn’t much to say.

“So, you and Kate?” Wanda breaks the silence.

If you weren’t so stressed maybe you’d laugh, “You sound just like your wife. Kate is just my friend, that’s all.”

“I’m just curious. You’ve grown into quite the young women, I’m sure you’ve had a long line of lovers,” Wanda speaks nonchalantly.

You can feel your ears heat at her comment, “I’ve been on some dates, but they don’t usually stick around.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raise as she keeps eye focus on the road, “My little krolik is a player then?”

You sputter, “I am not.”

“It sounds to me like you go on few dates, get what you want, and move on to the next,” Wanda’s eyes cut briefly to you.

“You need to stop getting information about me from Pietro, he’s delusional,” you shake your head, face nearly red with embarrassment.

“Then enlighten me.”

You sigh, “I go on the date, it’s just fine, and then I go another date. It’s just that simple.”

“You sound rather unhappy with that.”

You shrug, “This line of work, it’s dangerous. Anything can happen to me, and I have to date someone that I think could handle that. If I don’t think they can, then dating them would be a waste of both of our time. Not all of us can find a hot Russian spy.”

Wanda’s hand rests on your knee, “I suppose not, but I know there’s someone out there for you. You’ve always been a catch Y/n, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

It was easier to run with the narrative that there were other fish in the sea when Wanda wasn’t around. Having her back here was stirring up emotions inside of you. You thought that your liking to Wanda was simply teenage hormones, but you aren’t a teenager anymore. It’s been two days of having Wanda back and you can feel your feelings for her returning in full force.

“Less on my love life, and more on protecting Dragos,” you refocus on the task at hand.

When you’re close to the location, you recognize it as an abandoned construction site. You can see two other cars parked side by side further ahead.

“Park there,” you point out a secluded area where the car won’t be spotted.

Wanda does as you say. As soon as the car stops, you’re exiting it. In your heart you want to run to search for Dragos, but professionally you know that’s not the call.

You and Wanda walk cautiously though the site, the sand around made the walking a more difficult than solid concrete.

You went to take a step, but Wanda’s hand on your shoulder pulls you down into a crouching position. Following her line of sight, you see Dragos and Kingpin talking. You can’t necessarily hear them, but you can tell it’s not a pleasant conversation.

You look around hoping to find a spot close enough to hear, but not close enough to draw attention to yourself. Before you can find anything, Wanda’s hand slips in yours and she’s tugging you along.

She finds a spot with the criteria you were looking for. You two can now hear the conversation between the two men.

“Wilson, I’m telling you, you don’t want this war,” Dragos tries to reason with the man.

“Why not, Maximoff? I ain’t got nothing to lose, but I’ve got everything to gain,” his laugh makes your hand twitch.

You could pull out your gun right now and shoot Fisk in the head. Your hand goes to grab your gun, but Wanda stops you. She’s not even looking at you. Her eyes are scanning around, to make sure you are the only other people here.

“Fisk, I will put you down if you step out of line again.”

“With what army old man? I’ve been taking your allies and gathering your enemies. Step down gracefully and maybe I’ll let you keep some of your business,” Fisk takes a step towards Dragos.

“You’re not taking the empire that I built.”

He sticks out his pinky, showing off his big ring, “It’s time to kiss the ring, Maximoff. It’s time for the kingpin to take his rightful spot at the head of the table.”

“Over my dead body,” Dragos doesn’t back down.

“I knew you would say something like that.”

It happens fast. The gun goes off and instinctively your hand goes over Wanda’s mouth. The cry that was leaving her lips died in it’s spot. Fisk aims his gun again at Dragos’s head but before he can pull the trigger, your other hand starts to shoot at him.

Your hands are shaking, but the shots are enough to cause Kingpin to run away.

“Call the police, go check on him. I’m chasing the bastard,” you don’t give her a chance to protest.

By the time you get back to where the cars were parked, Kingpin’s car is gone. You can’t help it but slam your fist against the nearest pole. You run back to where Wanda is.

Once your next to Wanda and Dragos you take a knee. The man is struggling to breathe with a bullet lodged into his sternum. Wanda shakes as she runs her fingers through his hair and tells him he will be ok.

You’re trying to stay strong, but the tears have already begun to fall. Dragos hand reaches for yours and you let him take it. His grip is weak, and it causes you to lose your composure.

“Papa, I’m sorry- I should’ve shot faster,” you speak what could possibly be your last words to the man who had given you a better life.

He looks at Wanda and then at you. It’s mangled, but he says, “T-take care o-of each other."

“Papa these are not your final words, stop acting like they are. The paramedics are coming, you are going to leave. You have to live,” Wanda snaps at the man.

“You’re m-mother will ne-ver forgive me f-for this,” he wheezes.

“As long as you're breathing, she will forgive you,” you respond.

He laughs but ends up coughing up his own blood. Dragos squeezes your hand, “I’m proud- of both of y-you. Wanda, moye serdtse I- have always believed in y-you. Y/n, moye ditya, I loved b-being your Papa.”

You see his eyes fluttering and you make eye contact with Wanda, “How long did they say Wanda?”

“30 minutes.”

You shake you head, “That’s not fast enough. We have to go now.”

“Y/n-"

“We don’t have time to argue, Wanda. Help me lift him,” you say steeling your nerves.

“Y/n we-”

“HELP ME LIFT HIM.” You weren’t asking anymore.

You start to lift the older man hearing him groan slightly. It’s a good sign, he’s still living. Wanda helps reluctantly. Once you’re at the car, you’re sweating, but you keep moving. You lay him across the back seat.

“You stay in the back with him,” you tell Wanda, getting in the driver’s seat.

As soon as she’s in the car you step on the gas. It’s something akin to the high-speed chase but the stakes are higher. You swerve through traffic and backstreets as much as you can. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins. All you could think about was saving Dragos.

“Wanda, how is he?” You call back to her knowing you had about 5 minutes until the hospital.

“His breaths are shallow Y/n. His eyes are closing,” she updates you with a shaky voice.

“Papa, Wanda’s going to squeeze your hand, squeeze back if you can. Keep squeezing until we get you there,” Your voice is raised but you aren’t yelling.

Wanda puts her hand in her father’s. He squeezes it gently, the pressure is weak, but it’s there.

You continue to swerve around traffic but each minute his grasp grows weaker. You pull into the emergency parking section at the hospital and start to scream for help.

People start to crowd around your car, and everything seems like it’s moving too fast. People are getting Dragos from your car. Wanda is in hysterics as it seems like dozens of people start wheeling her father away. You sit at the wheel of the car unable to move, unable to think.

You make the calls, so Wanda doesn’t have to. It doesn’t take long for the family to get to the hospital. They’re all wrecks. The Maximoff’s all have identical puffy red eyes as they hope to hear something from the doctor.

“You aren’t going to sit with them,” It’s Natasha who takes a seat next to you.

You shake your head, “I can’t, not right now. They need their space.”

“You’ve shed just as many tears as them lisichka,” Natasha cautiously brings her finger to your face wiping a stray tear.

“You should be comforting your wife, not me,” you say to her.

“She’s not the one sitting away from her family mourning alone when it isn’t necessary,” Natasha stands and extends her hand to you.

For awhile you just stare, but she’s unrelenting. You sigh taking her hand, it’s not soft like you expected it to be. It’s a little rough and warm, but it brings you comfort all the same.

Natasha sits next to Wanda, and you take a seat next to Pietro. Instantly his arm wraps around your shoulder pulling you close. The action breaks you as you bury your head into his chest and begin to silently sob.

He places a kiss on the top of your head and rubs your back. It makes you feel like a kid again. It had been so long since you needed something like this. The adrenaline was wearing off and all you were left with was an empty feeling.

You start to mumble that you’re sorry against your friend as your body softly shakes.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” Flora calls to you from her seat next to Pietro.

You do as she says, “This isn't your fault.  There's nothing you could've done.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the woman gives you a stern look. It quiets you, but you continue to feel guilty.

“Stop thinking so much. We don't know anything until the doctors tell us,” You wipe your tears at her words.

“Yes, mama,” you say it without realizing and when you do, your face heats up.

Flora opens her arms for you, and you switch from Pietro to her. Her hug is warm and strong. She wipes the tears from your face and looks at you with caring eyes.

“Everything will be ok moye ditya,” her words bring you great comfort.

“Family of Dragos Maximoff,” the doctor calls out and you all stand swiftly.

This is the moment of truth. You pray that you acted fast enough; that he would be ok. The somber look on the doctor’s face crushes those dreams instantly.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok

[slayfics]

Hawks in love with a reader who’s siblings with Tokoyami🐸

Keigo worries about you.

Warnings: stalking

750 words

Keigo rocked on his heels impatiently waiting for Fumikage to show. They were scheduled to head out on patrol seven minutes ago. While that wasn't largely behind schedule, it was out of the ordinary for Fumikage to be even a minute late. And for a hero like Keigo, seven minutes is a lot of time.

"My apologies Hawks," Fumikage said hurriedly approaching Keigo.

"Everything alright? Not like you to be late," Keigo questioned.

"Just some personal matters," Fumikage answered. "I won't let it happen again."

"No need to be so cryptic. Tell me what's going on," Keigo prompted, as he began walking down the street starting their patrol.

Fumikage let out a sigh, "I'd rather not... it's embarrassing."

"Awe come on, now I gotta know," Keigo said.

Fumikage anxiously adjusted his cape, "It's my sister."

Keigo felt his heart plummet and he struggled to retain his laid-back composure. Since getting closer to Fumikage, Keigo has met some of his family. Including you, Fumikage's sister. Keigo didn't know what it was, but he was instantly drawn to you, so much so that it was painful. It was almost comical that you had to be his sidekick's sister. If you were anyone else Keigo was sure he'd have no trouble at all admitting his feelings. Taking you out on all the fancy dates, ensuring you were always safe. But you had to be related to one of his employees, and not just his employee, his closest sidekick.

"What's going on with her?" Keigo asked.

Uncomfortable with the conversation Fumikage fidgeted again. "She and her boyfriend broke up. I was trying to comfort her before leaving for my shift."

Keigo's fist clenched slightly, "Is that so? She's better off without him anyway," he said casually, masking the rage that burnt inside him.

Fumikage nodded in agreement as the two walked on in silence. Keigo fought the impulse to ask more questions about you. Were you faring ok? What did that bastard do anyway? Did he hurt you?

The rest of the patrol dragged on. Nothing eventful, just the usual fans that stopped Keigo for a picture. He'd stop and smile, all the while thinking about you in the back of his mind.

Approaching the agency at the end of their shift, Fumikage quickly grabbed his things. "Heading out now, let me know if anything comes up," he said before leaving.

"Will do," Keigo said with a lazy wave. Unbeknownst to Fumikage they would both be headed to the same place.

As soon as Fumikage left the building, Keigo was off. Beating Fumikage to your place, he landed on the balcony quietly. Careful to peer in the window without giving away his presence.

It wasn't a stereotypical break-up scene with tissues everywhere and ice cream tubs out. In fact, to anyone else, it might look like nothing was wrong. You were sitting on the couch in comfy house clothes with some mindless television on. However, Keigo knew you better. He'd peeked into your window enough to know this was out of your routine.

It was Thursday at 6:19pm, which meant you should have been preparing dinner for yourself, while you danced around to whatever music caught your attention that week. Not watching some pointless show on the couch. Keigo felt the rage flare up inside him again at the thought of the breakup keeping you from your dedicated time to let loose. And he found himself missing the sight of your carefree dances.

What was he going to listen to during his workout now, he wondered? He made it a point to listen to whatever songs he heard you listen to that week. Not to mention the concern he now felt. Were you so upset that you weren't eating?

His teeth clenched as he fought back against the desire to knock and announce himself. Hold you in his arms and let you know just how much of a fucking idiot your ex was.

Relief washed over him when Fumikage entered your place with a pizza. Not nutritious food, but comfort food that he was sure you needed. Keigo pressed against the wall out of view from your window.

He waited to peak in again until he was sure Fumikage was out of sight of the balcony. Seeing you take a bite of a pizza slice he decided he was satisfied.

Mentally thanking Fumikage for taking care of you, Keigo decided to fly off. But not before leaving a feather or two on your balcony for good measure. Just to keep tabs on you.

Just in case.

sinners: @unofficialmuilover @mintsbubbletea @starieqq @zworllyx

[amirasainz]

The avengers of Formula 1

request: Would love to see baby sainz suddenly approached by a male who is not in F1 and suddenly everyone shows up like the avengers to scare him away ❤️❤️❤️

It was a sunny day at the Marina Bay street circuit. It was the first time Amira had ever visited Singapore. One could clearly see how delighted Carlos was to have his baby sister by his side.

As they entered the paddock, the Sainz siblings were surrounded by Carlos’s fellow colleagues. Of course, it was just a coincidence that Lewis, Lando, and Oscar were at the entrance as well. It’s not like they had been waiting there for the past 20 minutes.

As soon as Carlos saw them, he knew what he had to do. “Hermanita, look! There’s a bit of shade. Why don’t you sit down and wait for me for a second? I will come back with an umbrella. We wouldn’t want you to get a sunburn, right?”

“Okay, Chilli,” she answered with a dimpled smile. Carlos swore his heart melted. He leaned down and gave her head a quick kiss. When he turned around, the other drivers were already approaching. After a quick look back at his hermanita, Carlos began to drag those demons away from his darling sister.

“Hey! You can’t just drag me away like a potato sack, you muppet!” Lando complained. Lewis and Oscar followed them like little children.

“Muppet? MUPPET?! You do not get to call me a muppet when you’ve been lurking at the entrance like a… a… como un bicho raro!”

When Lewis and Oscar started to chuckle, Carlos immediately turned to them. “And YOU! How dare you wait for my sister. I expected it from Lando,” “Hey!” “But you two? Unbelievable!”

During their scolding, the quartet was approached by other drivers. Charles was gloating with happiness. For once, he was not on the receiving end of Carlos’s yelling.

After some time, it was George who interrupted Carlos’s yelling. “Oh, what the hell?! Who is THIS idiot?” All the drivers turned to look at what George was pointing at.

There she was. Amira Sainz was talking to a man. A stranger! From far away, they could see the guy trying to flirt with her. But baby girl was that dense and thought he was just a nice guy trying to strike up a conversation.

When he sat down next to her, the other drivers exchanged amused glances. Carlos clenched his fists, ready to intervene if necessary. Little did he know that this chance encounter would change everything.

When he sat down next to her, the drivers saw red. How dare he sit down next to her, talk to her, or even breathe the same air as her?!

Quicker than a Mercedes F1 car, all the drivers sprinted to her side. The air filled with screams of “Oi, Idiote!” and “Hijo de puta!” and “Back the fuck off, dude!”—followed by Oscar’s emphatic “Stranger Danger!”

Imagine Baby Sainz’s surprise. One second she was chatting with the friendly stranger who called her the most beautiful girl in the world, and the next, she was engulfed by her brother and her friends. From the outside, it looked like a massive puppy pile.

While the drivers were busy scolding the man (and ensuring he’d be banned from the track), Carlos raced to Amira’s side. He instantly dropped to his knees and cradled her face in his hands.

“Pobrecito mío. ¿Este idiota te estaba molestando? ¿Estaba siendo grosero? ¡Oh, Santa María, estás tan pálida!” During Carlos’s rapid-fire rant, she just stared at him with wide eyes. When she made a confused noise, he immediately stood up, took his sister’s hand, and led her toward the parking lot.

“Oh, my poor hermanita. I’m so sorry. Let’s go shopping and grab something to eat. That must have been really scary!”

With that, the Sainz siblings left the track and headed to the nearest high-fashion shop.

As for the man? Well, let’s just say he vanished from the racing scene—never to be seen on any track again. 😇

Let me know what you thought about this littles piece. My request are OPEN. I will try to update as soon as possible💕

-XoXo

@barcelonaloverf1life @omgsuperstarg @formula1mount @xoscar03 @stinkyjax @khaylin27 @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @tinyhrry

[igotanidea]

Home : bat!family x bat!sister

Summary: no one gets to offend my siblings and father. No one but me. I'll make sure of it.

***

Maybe it was a bad idea to apply for that Erasmus program and leave her brothers and adoptive father alone for whole three months. Sure, studying abroad, expanding knowledge, learning language and customs was an amazing experience, but it came with the cost. The price of being in fear that her family would get themselves in trouble, pain, fight they could not recover from.

The first two weeks of her adventure was the worst, since she was waking up at most random night hours, ready to jump into fight, those vigilantes instincts and habits kicking in.

Those were the nights when she was turning and tossing in her bed unable to close an eye and in result sneaking out her dorm room and walk around the campus like the ghost. The quietness and peacefulness of her surroundings at the academy were so different from those she knew in Gotham, it was almost disturbing.

There was no denying that Y/N was the smartest in the family, even Tim admitted it once (obviously not while talking to her, but she overheard his conversation with Bernard) but at times like this she was second-guessing her choices.

Due to her specific upbringing and family background she also never managed to form any deep connection with her fellow students, preferring to stay by herself, focus on the task and putting a lot of work into expanding her knowledge and skills in technology. She never complained, but from other people’s perspective she was an eremite. Kind, polite with perfect manners when someone asked her for something or while working in group, but still highly reserved. Just like her adoptive father, whose relation to she was trying to keep a secret. And it worked up to the day when one of the lecturers accidentally called her  “Miss  Wayne” in front of the whole class. The second he did it the air in the auditorium froze. She might have been in different country, but for God’s sake she was studying technology, of course everyone heard about the Wayne Enterprises and the  Bruce Wayne.

“You’re his daughter?” one of the boys in the lower row turned around and eyed her suspiciously

“Yes. Adoptive one.”

“Of course. He’s well known for taking kids in, right? Seems like some sort of complex or maybe even a disease” he smirked and it made the girl clench her fist. Her relationship with Bruce might have been rocky, but no one except her and her brothers were allowed to judge and offend him.”

“Care to elaborate on that?” she hissed, eyeing the guy with ice cold gaze

“Miss Y/L/N! Mister Olsen! Please calm down and sit down!” the teacher tried to make up for his mistake but it was far too late for that.

“You misspelled my name once, might as well keep calling me Wayne now.”  the tone of her voice matched the gaze. She was not going to let the guy easily, but getting in trouble with the dean was not a part of her plan. “Now, can we continue with the lecture? I don’t know about anyone else in her, but speaking for myself I would love to actually learn something useful.”

***

Y/N was the middle child. Younger than Dick and Jason, older than Tim and Damian which placed her literally halfway  in the family. Because of that she was a mix of responsibility and carelessness, doing her own thing, not always the right way, but still capable of getting away with a lot more than the others. Not as family oriented as Dick, feeling a bit overshadowed by Jason, highly competitive with Tim and more independent and individualistic than Damian. Still, even despite her “boss bitch” attitude, she was sandwiched between her brothers which made her the best negotiator and mediator in the family. Y/N also had a strong sense of fairness and morality and would always try her best to do the right things. Objectively, not subjectively. And making fun of her family was not one the things she could forget. However, before taking any action she had to gather intel, figure out what the guy knew and then come right at him.

***

Waiting till the end of the class was probably the greatest torture she ever had to endure, every minute stretching into infinity and when it was over the sense of relief almost made her drop the plan. Almost.

“I’m not done with you, Olsen.” she was faster to the door, stopping her potential victim from getting away.

“You want more, Wayne?”

“Please. Hit me with your best shot. What is your problem with my family, exactly?”

“Let me think” he tapped his chin. “There are so many. Like for instance, your oldest brother. What was his name again? Oh, right! Dick. Suits him quite well, doesn’t it. A prick, if you ask me. Definitely a show-off with no skills.” He scoffed “Shall I continue?”

“ Please. You got like three more people to gossip about.”

“The second in line, Jason, right? Oh, the unhinged  one. Violent, mocking, thinking he is better than anyone else around, when in reality he’s just a lost, scared child. Probably a dumbass too.”

“Pretty sure he would agree with that. Now what about Tim and Damian?”

At this point Olsen was getting a bit surprised that the girl in front of him was still unfazed. Her calmness, a sign of silent inside fury making him slightly uncomfortable.   Not enough to stop however.

“Drake…..” the name rolled of his tongue while the boy was wondering what words to choose “oh, he’s the gay one, right? Such a shame that the renowned Wayne family has someone like that as a member. Bet your father would never take him in, if he knew. A fairy becoming the next CEO of his renowned company. How ironic!”

“Hm.” Oh, Y/N was so much like Bruce at times and it showed in the least expected moments.

Damn that girl! How could it not make her angry?

“And …… Damian, the only biological child. Absolutely maladjusted and unaware of social norms and boundaries. Tell me, how was it like to have your youngest brother violate your boundaries and personal space?”

“It was. ….educatory. Just like it was with everything you just said. You presented yourself as someone with some serious psychological issues and possibly an unhealthy interest in my family’s life. So thank you, it truly was illuminating.”

***

“What the hell did you do Y/N?” a very alerted Dick appeared  on the other side of the screen

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” The girl sighted and fell onto the cushions bringing the computer onto her lap to see her brother better

“Don’t lie to me now, sis.”

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“Bruce has been on the phone for the last fifteen minutes and from what I figured it’s about something that happened on the campus.”

“The only thing happening on the campus are students who skip classes.” She mumbled “maybe except that one time when one of the boys lost some stupid bet and blew up the fountain as some sort of punishment. That was funny.”

A little grunt was heard on Dick’s side and for a second he disappeared from the screen.

“Dick?”

“Sorry, I had a little interruption.” He rubbed his forehead “Now, back onto what you did…..”

“Did you say that someone blew the fountain?” third face appeared on the screen in the corner, taking over the conversation.

“Hello, Jason.”

“Hi sis. Maybe I should have joined you in your academic career. Seems like you have a lot of fun there. Besides, I never really finished school, since you know…. I died.”

“We know.” Y/N and Dick said in unison

“Always a good opportunity to remind you, right?” he grinned “Now, sis, tell me, how was it going full rogue on fellow student? I gotta admit I’m proud of you here.”

“So that’s what this is about?” Dick’s eyes grew wider than ever “I;m gonna ask you once again, Y/N. what did you do?”

“Nothing permanent.”

“What…..?”

“Cut her some slack, Grayson.”

“Look who decided to join us.” Y/N smirked “improved your computer skills much, Damian?”

“I got tired of being left out.”

“Since when do you care about the group?”

“Leverage, sis. Knowledge is power, I thought you knew that.”

“Ok, that is enough!” Dick finally lost his patience “I’m trying to have a conversation with my little sis here. Both of you, get out of the line!”

“Mhm, keep dreamin’ Dickhead.”

“For once I agree with Todd.”

“You have no right to…..”

“Guys…..” Y/N tried to mitigate them, but deep inside she enjoyed their bantering. It was a while since she experienced it and only now realized how familiar it was.

“I was here first!” Dick yelled “And I’m the oldest”

“No one cares Grayson! You are a Bludhaven resident now.  Just because you visit the manor does not mean you can keep Y/N busy using the wayne’s devices!”

“Don’t you have someone to kill in the crime alley, Jay?”

“Unlike you, I succeeded in all my latest missions.”

“Is that what you call coming back to your safe house bloodied and injured. You were on the verge of death!” Damian smirked “you were absolutely inept, that’s not a success.”

“You were what, now?!” Y/N shrieked. Her second oldest brother was sometimes too careless.

“It was not that bad, Y/N, I swear. And how the fuck do you know about it, demon?”

“I have my ways.”

“I would suspect Drake of spying on me, but you?”

“Speaking of the devil, I’m surprised Tim hasn’t already join us.” Dick muttered

“Oh, he did.” Y/N pointed out

“WHAT?” her brothers cried. Now there was another one fighting for her attention and it was not a secret that Tim was her favorite making the situation harder.

“I did.” Tim chuckled  “Well, to tell the truth Y/N let me in the channel. We have our ways with technology. Something none of you could ever fully understand. “

“Of course not….”

“Cheer up, Dami. You can’t monopolize all the areas.”

“I would beg to differ.”

“Ok, everyone hold up here. I think we lost the point of the conversation. The thing was that Bruce was on the phone, probably taking to the dean about….”

“Y/N played a little prank on her classmate, is that right?” of course Tim was the one who everything best.

 “He deserved it.”

“Y/n…..”

“Stop using the big brother voice on me! It’s not going to work!”

“How about we use Damian’s youngest one?” Dick teased

“I refuse to be used in this….”

“SHUT UP DAMIAN!” Dick and Jason shouted together and shared a murderous look between one another. Now they were both desperate to find out what happened since Tim would rather die than spill the bean. It was infuriating. They were the older brothers! This had to mean something.

“Ok, that’s it.” Damian stood up and the view of the empty chair in the place where his face should be was highly disturbing.

“That is not good.” Y/N said out loud something that all of them already knew. Her presumptions turned out to be right a second later when the shouting and yelling reverberated through the speakers and a blur of black and green rushed into Dick’s room.

“hey, I want to join the fight too!” Jason started up and with a speed, Wally West could be jealous of involved in the mix of limbs and screams.

“Wait! I though Dick was in Bludhaven! Tim?”

“Not today. We’re all in the manor.”

“And you idiots were talking to me through four different computers?”

“Are you actually surprised?”

“On second thought, not at all.” She sighed. It’s a good thing you are the reasonable one here…..”

“There you are, Timmy” now the situation has turned as it was Dick who appeared in the door of Tim’s bedroom “you are not  getting out of this. If you want Y/n to yourself you have to fight me.”

“And me!” Jason tackled Dick to the ground with a loud thump

“Losers!” Damian jumped over their bodies and came right at Tim

Because of their actions, Y/N was the only one who noticed two men stepping from the shadows and exchanging some words. Apparently Bruce wasn’t capable of putting the boys in their places and asked Alfred to try this instead. And a single grunt from the butler did a miracle as all of them stood up and started explaining and apologizing. Funny as it was, Y/N knew that with Bruce’s arrival she was heading straight towards preaching from her father.

“Y/N.”

“Hello Bruce.”

“Did you break his arm?”

“You broke his arm?” Dick was halfway out but turned back immediately

“No.” Y/n shook her head “I broke his arm and hurt his legs.”

“Don’t forget that you also demolished his dorm room.”

“That wasn’t me. That was….”

“Did you go at him as a vigilante? Wow! Way to go, sis. Now I truly am proud of you.”

“Ok, both of you, out!” Bruce lost the rest of his patience pushing Dick and Jay away. “Now that we are alone…….” he sighed deeply closing the door tight  

“I;m not sorry.”

“Oh, I know. And I’m not mad, because I’m sure you had a reason to do it. So tell me, why?”

“you…. you want to know ?”

“Of course. Look Y/n, I’m aware I won’t get  a father of the year cup from you, but I care all right? Did that boy hurt you and you took retaliation? Just tell me….”

“He was talking shit about our family.”

“And you felt the urge to protect the Wayne’s honor?” Bruce smirked “this is so not like you.”

“Honor, my ass. We’ve lost that ages ago, Bruce. The only thing I was protecting was my sole privilege of mocking you. No one else is allowed to do it.”

“I’ll be sure not to tell your brothers that you miss them. “

“That would be most welcome.”

“And you have to know that we don’t miss you either, y/n.” father and daughter’s gazes met and they both nodded in silent agreement, right corners of their mouths lifting almost unnoticeable. “You coming to visit next week?”

***

Something was wrong.

Something was terribly wrong and that tingling sensation became unbearable the second she climbed the manor’s stairs and reach for the doorknob with a heartrate so fast it would send anyone else straight into cardiac arrest. Y/N however kept her cold blood, focusing on what may happened inside and considering her options and strategies for a potential fight.

She could not expect  that the moment she opened the door four figures would jump out from the shadows making the noise that would bring the dead from behind the grave. It startled her and as a result she stumbled back, hitting the wardrobe and making it shake. She could not expect that on said wardrobe there would be packets and packets of paint and that those would fall down straight on her making her look like some abstractionism painting.

“I hate you all.” She muttered while her brothers run away in four different directions.

“Welcome home, miss Y/N” Alfred approached her with a tissue so she could at least wipe the paint from her eyes.

“Home.” She whispered “Yes, it definitely feels like it.”

It was good to be back.

But she was still going after them. .....

Later. When they would least expect it.

[starryhyuck]

closed doors. (m)

pairing: meandom!mark + afab!reader

words: 5k+

summary: when your brother asks if a friend can stay in your spare bedroom, you don’t expect mark lee to show up on your doorstep.

genre: smut

warnings: mark is very mean, reader has slept around, oral sex, messy pussy eating, facefucking, degradation, creampie, squirting

“No. Absolutely not.”

“You agreed to it just a week ago!”

“Yeah, because I thought when you said friend you meant another girl! Not one of your slimy frat boys who plans to bring home a different side piece every night!”

Mark awkwardly clears his throat, each hand carrying two duffle bags. “I can find another place to stay, Jaehyun. It’s no big deal.”

Then, to his surprise, the both of you are quick to turn to him and scream “No!”

“My sister is just being selfish, Mark. Go and unpack your things in the spare room,” Jaehyun says through clenched teeth.

You’re no better — staring down your brother with the nastiest look you could muster. “On the contrary, my brother is the one being selfish by making his sister move in with a random stranger! Go unpack your things, Mark, so I can tell you all the little secrets Jaehyun doesn’t want his frat to know about.”

“Don’t even think about it. You know I have way more dirt on you than you have on me.”

“Really? You want to take that chance?”

Mark clears his throat again, his wrists aching from the weight of his bags.

“So should I go unpack?”

He’s surprised yet again when the siblings turn their heads to glare at him.

“Yes!”

And that’s how Mark Lee became your roommate.

—

When Jaehyun called you last week, he made it seem very simple. He mentioned how one of his friends needed a place to stay temporarily, as their apartment had been flooded and maintenance needed a couple of weeks to repair it. Since Minjeong had just moved out of your second bedroom to be with her boyfriend across town, you didn’t mind loaning the room for the time being to save on rent.

What Jaehyun didn’t tell you, however, was that the apartment that was flooded was actually his fraternity house and his friend who was displaced was actually Mark Lee. Mark was the only one without a significant other to stay with so your brother decided to throw him with you.

Mark didn’t know that much about you since Jaehyun always mentioned you were off-limits. Johnny tried to shoot his shot with you two years ago and it almost ended in a public fist-fight between him and Jaehyun on the fraternity’s front lawn.

Even though you two bickered constantly, Jaehyun hated the idea of his sister being used by one of his friends.

Mark guessed that Jaehyun didn’t know how many guys you actually brought home.

“Oh, sorry!”

It was only a few days into your temporary housing arrangement when Mark came home from class to find you straddling Donghyuck on the living room couch. Donghyuck’s hand was up your skirt and your eyes were a little watery, indicating that Donghyuck had clearly done a number on you before Mark walked in.

“D-Donghyuck?” Mark says in shock, surprised to see one of his best friends here.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans, pausing whatever his hands were doing underneath your skirt. “You’re such a fucking cockblock, Mark.”

Mark pauses at the sound of your whimper. You’re pawing at Donghyuck’s chest, lips pressed against his ear.

“More, Hyuck, please.”

“Um, I’ll come back later,” Mark shuffles awkwardly in the doorway.

“Yeah, you do that,” Donghyuck replies offhandedly, directing his attention back to you.

The last thing Mark hears when he closes his door is one of your pornographic moans.

—

Mark isn’t able to confront Donghyuck about it until they play basketball on the weekend. When he finally spots his fluffy haired friend, he aggressively bumps his shoulder.

“Bro, what the fuck were you doing with Jaehyun’s sister on Tuesday?”

Renjun’s interest peaked from his spot on the bench. He’s not very good at playing basketball, but he always joins regardless to listen to all the gossip Chenle and Donghyuck throw around.

“Jaehyun’s sister?” Renjun clarifies. “Oh, you’re so fucked.”

“Who’s fucking Jaehyun’s sister?” Chenle asks, jogging over once he sees Mark has arrived.

“Everyone calm your asses,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Jaehyun doesn’t know and no one’s going to tell him. And if we’re being completely honest here, I’m not the only guy on her weekday list.”

Mark frowns. The only guy he’s seen you with over this past week has been Donghyuck.

And the menace himself can already sense what’s lingering in Mark’s head. “You know that whenever you play basketball with Chenle, she’s definitely fucking other guys in your apartment, right?” Donghyuck questions.

Mark’s brain temporarily short circuits at the information. That would mean you’re fucking someone right now.

“But Jaehyun-“

“Jaehyun doesn’t know. And he doesn’t need to. All her hookups are kept on a hush hush basis,” Donghyuck smirks, cocky at the fact that he gets to fuck you without your brother punching his face in. “And now that you’re her roommate, maybe you can add yourself into the mix.”

Chenle laughs at the idea. “Please. Mark would fuck her and immediately run to Jaehyun out of guilt. There’s no way.”

Mark bashfully scratches the back of his neck, not disagreeing with Chenle’s statement. “Plus, I don’t really see her that way.”

The comment makes all three men chuckle. Donghyuck places a hand on Mark’s shoulder, giving him a serious look.

“Mark, everyone sees her that way.”

—

Mark returns home to see you sitting on the couch, eating some trashy food and watching your favorite reality television show. You look completely exhausted, and Mark wonders if it’s because some other guy just fucked you.

“Hey,” he greets you, slipping his shoes off and throwing his backpack to the ground.

“Hey,” you reply, more interested in whatever’s happening on your show.

Mark awkwardly prepares a bowl of ramen for himself and takes a seat next to you on the couch. You’re wearing nothing but a thin camisole and a pair of sleep shorts, and he tries not to pay too close attention to the leftover cum smearing your thighs.

“What are we watching?” He asks, trying to start up some sort of conversation.

“Some mind numbing show. I need something to distract me since I got bad dick tonight.”

Mark swallows. He wasn’t expecting you to be so direct about it, or even tell him about your escapades when he leaves the apartment.

“Oh?” He tries to level his voice. “Sorry about that.”

You sigh. “It’s whatever. Guys think that just because I’m horny when I’m ovulating, I want to be some sort of cumdump for them.”

He wonders why you’re telling him all of this, but he lets you continue your rant regardless.

“I mean, yes, is it nice to get thrown around and used every once in a while? Sure. But that doesn’t mean you forget about me cumming too!” You groan, and Mark can tell how frustrated you are.

Donghyuck’s evil voice whispers in his ear and Mark can’t help but let the next words slip out of his mouth.

“I can help you if you still need it.”

You pause eating your burger and turn to him. It’s almost like you’re seeing him for the first time, eyes scanning him up and down and checking him out. Mark’s brain suddenly spirals, and he wonders if he’s crossed an invisible line. You’re probably not even into him, and now he has to go apologize to Jaehyun-

“Sure,” you shrug, setting your food down.

His wide eyes watch as you lay yourself down on the couch, shimmying your shorts to your ankles and flinging them across the room. Mark feels like time has completely stopped when he sees the wet patch in your underwear, some other guy’s cum spilling through the fabric.

“Sorry about the mess,” you apologize. “I was too lazy to clean myself up after he left.”

Mark sets his ramen bowl down on the coffee table, unsure of how to approach this situation. He didn’t even think you would agree to his offer.

“He didn’t help clean you up?”

You giggle. “Aw, it’s cute that you think other guys do that.”

He ignores the fact that the tip of his ears are probably blooming red, adjusting the rising stiffness of his cock in his small basketball shorts. He positions himself until he’s face to face with your lace panties, thumb curiously padding over your folds.

“Mm,” you whimper needily, hips bucking themselves upwards. “Don’t tease, Mark.”

He couldn’t help but start sucking you over your underwear, his tongue catching a mix of leftover cum and your wetness. He hears your breathy giggle and your hands tangle through his hair.

“You’re nasty,” you remark. He peers up at you briefly to see your cloudy eyes.

He makes a show of slowly rolling your panties down, cock twitching at the sight of your ruined pussy.

“You’re really swollen,” he comments, fingers pushing your folds apart gently.

You hold back a moan. “Yeah, he did a real number on me. You said you can make me feel better though, can’t you?”

Mark answers by sloppily kissing your cunt, tongue prodding your entrance. His nose presses against your clit and you whine loudly. He doesn’t even need any more guidance from you, delving into your pussy and eating you like a man starved. He starts off by sucking your folds gently, mindful of how the last guy who fucked you probably didn’t prep you at all. When he hears your pitiful moans, however, and your chants of more, more, more, he becomes more desperate.

“Shit,” you gasp. You’ve never had a guy eat you out this good before, and you’re genuinely surprised by how fast you’re reaching your high. “Oh, fuck.”

You panic a little at the familiar tension building in your stomach, and Mark groans when you try to push him away.

“Wait, Mark, I’m going to-“

You collapse into a series of moans when your orgasm hits, your brain turning fuzzy. The only thing you hear is the filthy squelch of your juices and Mark eagerly slurping up your high.

He pulls away and watches as you slowly realize you’ve squirted everywhere. You groan and shut your eyes tightly.

“Sorry about that. It happens sometimes.”

He tilts his head, confused. “Why are you apologizing? That was so fucking hot.”

You giggle and open your eyes again, meeting his lust-filled gaze.

“Really? A lot of guys usually hate it because of how messy it is.”

“They’re idiots.”

You smile, tugging him upwards so you can kiss him. “Maybe you deserve a little treat for making me feel that good,” you whisper, palming him over his shorts.

Mark is about to strip so he can take you on the couch, but stops when he hears a knock at the door.

His body completely freezes when he opens it to see Jaehyun on the other side. The older male raises an eyebrow.

“Dude, did you forget I was coming over to work on our project?”

Before Mark can protest Jaehyun coming in, the man is pushing past him. Mark quickly tries to think of any excuse for why you would be half-naked on the couch, but before he could start frantically explaining himself, he’s surprised to see you’ve somehow located your shorts and slipped them back on. You also knocked over a bottle of water on the couch to make it seem like the remnants of your orgasm was just an accidental spill.

You roll your eyes at the sight of your brother, pushing past him to go into your room.

“Looks like you dragged the trash in, Mark.”

Jaehyun hisses lowly when your bedroom door shuts.

“Devil. I hope she’s not corrupting you.”

Mark swallows, pushing away all thoughts of fucking you to try and get his erection to lower.

“Nope. Definitely not.”

—

Mark avoids you for the next couple of days. The maintenance at the fraternity said the guys could move back in next week, and Mark’s current plan was to avoid you as much as possible until move out day.

He was slightly successful, but also a little hurt since you didn’t seem to care that he was avoiding your presence. You carried on like nothing happened, and Mark saw you walking around campus with a different guy almost every day.

It isn’t until Donghyuck confronts him that he finds out the truth.

“What the fuck did you do?”

Mark’s never seen Donghyuck so frustrated, hair sticking up in different directions and clothing being inside out. Mark innocently continues to dribble the basketball, looking at Chenle for help. His friend stands on the other side of the court, shrugging in response.

“Uh, what are you talking about?”

Donghyuck pushes him aggressively. “You know what I’m talking about! She won’t fuck any of us!”

Mark is more confused than ever and Donghyuck throws his hands up. “You’re a fucking idiot,” Donghyuck murmurs under his breath. “I’m talking about your little roommate! She canceled all of her hookups this week, including me, Jeno, Jaemin, and Yangyang. I want a fucking explanation, Mark, for why I wasn’t able to get good pussy today.”

Mark shrugs. “How am I supposed to know?”

Chenle comes over when he realizes no one’s planning on throwing the ball to him anytime soon. “Hyuck, she probably got a boyfriend. Leave Mark alone.”

“No no no,” Donghyuck chuckles like an evil villain. “She doesn’t do that dating shit. She’s either getting really good dick or Jaehyun found out. So I’m going to ask once again — what the fuck did you do, Mark?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Mark puts his hands up innocently. “Otherwise I’d get in trouble too.”

The statement makes Donghyuck and Chenle stop in their tracks.

“No way.”

“You?!”

Mark winces at how loud Donghyuck’s voice can echo.

“You?” Donghyuck repeats in shock. “No way. She canceled on us to fuck you?”

“We haven’t fucked,” Mark clarified. “I just ate her out last week because she wasn’t feeling good and I was going to fuck her until Jaehyun came over. We haven’t done anything since then.”

Donghyuck strokes his chin like he’s trying to solve a mystery.

“How did she cum?”

“Huh?”

“Did she pretend to cum? Did you feel her actually cum? Did you use a vibrator? Did you use your fingers?”

Chenle gags. “This is the worst conversation I’ve ever heard.”

Mark awkwardly clears his throat. “I just used my mouth. And she squirted.”

Donghyuck completely freezes and Chenle waves a hand over his face.

“Dude, I think you broke him,” Chenle mutters.

Mark squeaks when Donghyuck suddenly tackles him, the younger boy pinning him down and glaring at him.

“What the fuck?” Mark exclaims, trying to push Donghyuck away from him.

“You’re lying,” Donghyuck growls. “You have to be. There’s no way you made her squirt.”

“What’s the big deal? She said she’s done it before,” Mark says, still failing at getting Donghyuck off of him. He ignores Chenle’s laughs at his predicament.

“Yeah, by herself! No guy’s ever made her squirt before. Trust me, me and Jeno have tried many times. Separately and together.”

Mark ignores the fact that Donghyuck just admitted to having regular threesomes with Jeno.

“But she told me-“

“She lied. So clearly she stopped fucking us to get with you. This is so humiliating for me.”

Mark sees a flash of a camera and Chenle’s giggle.

“And now we have it documented.”

He hears the soft padding of footsteps before Renjun approaches, taking in the sight of Donghyuck pinning Mark down on the floor of the basketball court.

“Um, what did I miss?”

“Oh, Renjun, you won’t believe this but-“

“Zhong Chenle!” Donghyuck finally peels himself away from Mark to chase Chenle around the court, preventing him from telling Renjun about how you rejected Donghyuck for Mark.

Mark’s head is still spinning from the information when he sees Renjun’s head pop into his vision above him.

“You look sick. You should go home, dude.”

—

Mark followed Renjun’s advice and got out of the court as fast as possible. He dismissed Donghyuck’s insistent protests for an explanation on how he made you squirt.

When he arrives home, he’s surprised to see you cooking ramen on the stove. He’s even more surprised to see you wearing nothing but his shirt and a tiny pair of panties peeking out from the bottom. You turn slightly to see him, smiling when he walks through the door.

“Welcome home!”

He tries to ignore how his cock twitches at your words.

“Um, thanks. What are you making?”

He drifts into the kitchen, ignoring the voice in his head that’s telling him to go to his room and lock the door.

“Just some ramen,” you hum. “Wanted a quick snack.”

“Ah,” he nods. “I actually just came back from seeing Donghyuck.”

“Oh?” You say, not sounding surprised in the slightest by the information. “Did he say anything?”

Mark can tell you’re playing a game with him, and he’s not sure if he wants to bite. “He just mentioned how he hasn’t seen you lately.”

You laugh. “I’m sure Donghyuck was more colorful than that. He isn’t exactly careful with his words.”

Mark nervously swallows. “Well, he said that you haven’t really seen anyone since last week.”

You hum. “Interesting. I wonder why that is.”

You shoot him a small smile, and Mark recognizes the mischievous glint in your eye. You reach for some spices on the top shelf of your cabinet, and he gets an eyeful of your ass.

You gasp when you feel Mark press against your back, and you watch as he turns off the stove.

“Why are you teasing me?” He breathily asks in your ear, fingers gripping your hips tightly.

“Am I?”

He can hear the smirk in your voice. “How did you get my shirt, you little minx?”

You giggle, grabbing his hand and guiding it to your core.

“I did a little snooping in your room. You’re such a slob,” you say, remembering all the stray chip bags and old t-shirts Mark has lying around.

“Sorry,” he apologizes as he cups your mound, and he groans when he feels how wet you are. “This is supposed to be a temporary thing, remember? I don’t exactly have to keep everything in tip top shape.”

Your folds are practically spilling out of your underwear. “Don’t you think these panties are too small for you?” He asks, rubbing your clit gently. You whimper and buck your hips up into his hand. “It’s no better than not wearing them at all.”

“I thought you liked seeing my pussy,” you hum, leaning back on him. “You sure liked it when you ate me out last week.”

Mark is quick to move your underwear to the side, inserting a finger into your cunt without warning. You moan loudly and grip onto his arms.

“About that, Donghyuck told me something interesting,” he mentions, focusing on how tight you feel around his finger. “He said no guy’s ever made you squirt before.”

You’re pretty desperate for him at this point, so you barely register what he’s saying in favor of trying to get him to push more of his fingers into you.

“Uh huh.”

He chuckles and the sound shoots straight to your core. He grants your wish and pushes two more fingers into your weeping hole, basking in how he stretches you open. Your mind turns into mush once he starts pumping them in and out of you, scissoring and rubbing against your sweet spot. You wonder how he’s managed to learn your body so quickly.

“It really grabbed my attention when he said that because I was under the impression that someone’s done that to you before.”

Your whimpers turn into cries when his thumb starts to circle your clit, and you struggle to respond to him.

“J-Just my fingers. Not a-anyone else,” you mindlessly say.

“You’re so fucking desperate,” Mark hisses meanly, nipping at your ear. He has to admit that his conversation with Donghyuck has given him a major ego boost. “So what? You fuck every guy on campus to try and get close to the pleasure I gave you? But they’re not me, are they? That’s why you stopped going to them.”

“Mark,” you cry when he removes himself from you, slapping your ass roughly.

“Get on the counter.”

You quickly obey, legs wobbling slightly as you prop yourself up on the kitchen counter. Mark is fast to drop to his knees, spreading your legs apart and diving into your cunt.

“Fuck,” you whimper when you feel Mark’s tongue lapping at your wetness.

He keeps his eyes on you when he sucks your clit, slipping two fingers in your entrance. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your whole upper half collapsing on top of the island.

Mark’s gaze follows you, learning what you like and what your body really reacts to. Every time he curls his fingers upwards, you shake a little and your moans grow louder.

“S-Shit,” you gasp, struggling to breathe. “How are you so fucking good at this?”

That tension is building in your stomach again, even faster than the first time. You can tell Mark is expecting it, opening his mouth wider and sucking you harder. He revels in the sound of your loud cries, begging him for more and desperately asking to cum.

“Please, please, please-“ you plead, pushing Mark deeper into your cunt.

He pulls back briefly to direct you. “Squirt for me, baby. Show me how I’m better than everyone else.”

When he grazes your clit with his teeth, you fall off the edge. Mark eagerly fingers you while your juices spill on the kitchen floor, his cock straining in his shorts.

Before you can regain your senses, you find yourself being turned around, and your feet hit the kitchen tile.

“Mmf,” you mumble blearily, your vision blurry.

He shushes you, hands exploring your ass as he pulls your underwear down. “It’s alright, baby. I got you.” You feel the tip of his cock prod your entrance and you whimper, pushing yourself back on him subconsciously.

“Please- I want-“

“I know, I know,” Mark assures you, voice sounding slightly smug. “You want my cock, don’t you? Dripping for it, acting like a whore just to get it.”

Your cheek presses against the counter, mind empty and thinking of nothing but Mark’s cock. When he finally eases himself into your cunt, you swear you see heaven.

“Shit, baby, you’re soaking. Makes it so easy for me to slide in,” he mumbles, watching as he easily disappears into you.

“M-More, more-“ you plead, reaching behind yourself in an attempt to get him to bottom out.

When he finally does, he’s laughing condescendingly in your ear. He brushes your hair away from your face when he thrusts in the first time so he can see how you fall apart.

“You’re so fucking easy,” he snickers, and you’re amazed by how you unlocked such an evil side to Mark Lee. “No wonder all the guys pass you around like a new toy.”

It’s embarrassing how fast you reach your second orgasm. You scream and shudder when your body snaps. He shows no signs of stopping either, railing you through your high. You reach the point where you can’t tell if you’re begging him to stop or to fuck you until you pass out.

And Mark has no idea where this burst of confidence comes from, but he finds himself pulling out of you and tucking himself back into his shorts.

“What-“ you whisper, suddenly feeling empty. “Where are you going?”

“Clearly, a brat like you only cares about her own pleasure. I guess I should find someone else to take care of me.”

You begin to panic even though Mark has no intentions of actually leaving. “Wait- Wait, no-“ you desperately cry, legs shaking as you try to stop him. You immediately sink to your knees, hands gripping his thighs. “I can take care of you.”

Mark scoffs, eyes challenging you. “I doubt it. Look at yourself — kneeling in a puddle of your own filth, thinking you can suck my cock and be decently good at it. I’m not like Donghyuck, you know. I don’t cum easily.”

“I don’t want Donghyuck,” you sob in despair. If he’s surprised by the sudden tears running down your face, he makes no show of it. “I want you! Please, I’m sorry I was so selfish. I won’t be like that ever again.”

He runs a finger down your face before cupping your cheeks harshly.

“Then tell me I’m the only one who gets to fuck you from now on. No one else.”

You don’t skip a beat. “Just you. I’ll only fuck you from now on, I promise.”

“Show me.”

You quickly take his cock out, angrily red and leaking from the tip. You gasp when Mark grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs cruelly. You get the message, opening your mouth wide and loosening your jaw.

He has absolutely no mercy on you, shoving his cock far down your throat. He ignores your gagging, saliva dripping from the sides of your lips. He begins a brutal pace in face fucking you, his cock consistently hitting the back of your windpipe.

Venom drips from his voice. “I want you like this from now on. Ready on your knees as soon as I walk through that door. Understood?”

You try to nod but it only comes out as a mix of garbles and choked noises. He finally grants you mercy and allows you to breathe for a few seconds.

You wheeze, coughing and sputtering. Mark decides it’s enough recovery time for you, however, pushing you up against one of the kitchen cabinets on the floor. He completely folds you in half, throwing your legs over his shoulders and lining himself up to your entrance once more.

“Beg for it.”

“Please fuck me!” You cry, not caring how pathetic you sound. “I promise I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll be a good girl. Please!”

“And?” He says, leaning closer to you with a waiting gaze.

“And you’re the only one I’ll be with from now on! I promise!”

Mark ignores that his knees are soaked in your juices from earlier and that he’ll probably get bruises from the kitchen tile. He fucks you at a brutal pace, slamming your head into the wooden cabinets over and over at the force of his thrusts. Your neck aches but he makes you watch him pound into you, his cock abusing your pussy as he likes.

“If you’re nice, I’ll let you cum again,” he hisses, balls slapping against your ass lewdly. “If I think you’re being a brat again, I’ll make you lick your cum off the floor.”

“G-Good, I’m g-g-good,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “Good girl!”

He chuckles. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

He leans over you and you take the hint, opening your mouth and allowing him to spit on your tongue. You swallow eagerly, showing him how you obey him.

“You’re such a perfect little doll, aren’t you?” He snickers, your wetness starting to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock. You can’t tell if he wants you to answer, but you’re too fucked out to reply anyways. “When Jaehyun told me to come live with his sister for a few weeks, I never thought you’d be such a campus whore. He always talked about you like no one’s ever even allowed to speak to you. Guess he’ll never know how most of his friends have already spitroasted you, huh?”

“I-I need-“ you whimper, failing to come up with what you want to say.

“Aw, baby wants to come?”

You nod, hoping he’ll grant you permission. He smiles as he stares at you, fully cockdrunk and wanting more. He knows he has you in the palm of his hand now.

“Go ahead.”

When he feels you tighten around him, Mark goes with you, ropes of his cum shooting deep into your cunt. There’s so much of it that it spills out of your folds.

When you come down from your high, you pay no attention to the searing pain in your neck. You look up at Mark with wide eyes.

“Are we together now?”

He still feels a little mean, so he pushes you a little more. “Donghyuck said you don’t do the dating shit.”

“B-But I want to be with you,” you say softly, looking like you’re going to cry again if Mark rejects you.

He takes pity on you, lifting up your chin and kissing you gently.

“Alright. But you have to protect me from Jaehyun.”

You giggle and nod.

—

When the frat house is finally repaired, you show up to help Mark move in, hand intertwined with his. Every single fraternity member stops at the sight of you in the doorway, jaws open.

“You’re so fucked,” Johnny laughs, getting out his phone to film Jaehyun’s reaction.

Your brother comes into sight, carrying one of the moving boxes in his hands. He immediately drops it at the sight of you two, his eyes locked in on your joined hands.

“You look like trash,” you laugh at the sight of Jaehyun’s hair sticking up in multiple directions.

Mark swallows when Jaehyun angrily stomps over to the two of you. Mark internally prepares himself to get his ass beaten by Jaehyun, but he’s shocked when instead of fighting him, Jaehyun drops a hand to Mark’s shoulder, frowning.

“I’m so sorry, Mark. You’re one of the good ones and I failed to save you from the pits of hell. Instead, I led you directly into her arms and for that, I’ll be eternally apologetic.”

“Oh, you stupid fucker!” You scream, grabbing your sibling by the ear and pulling him outside.

Mark watches as you and Jaehyun throw hands on the front lawn, spitting insults at each other. Johnny comes up next to him and sighs.

“You’re such a lucky bastard.”