#Really it is more about how it changed her rather than just how it ruined or harmed her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlgenius1111 · 8 days

Text

hallmarks of sisterhood

putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.

-------

Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you.

It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked.

As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily.

All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could.

-------

“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister.

“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.

“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.”

Alba flushed red with anger.

“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind.

“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”

“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?”

“You are such a-”

“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room.

“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed.

“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending.

“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted.

“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter.

When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried.

Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.”

“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”

“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.

“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl.

“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit.

“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.

“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-”

It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped.

“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly.

“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you.

You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously.

They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument.

You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong.

------

You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often.

Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock.

Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.

“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.”

“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer.

“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos.

“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go.

“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile.

“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room.

“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics.

“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it.

As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up.

If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so.

This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you.

------

The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument.

You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this.

If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it.

You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope.

Alexia had responded first.

It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.

Alba responded after that.

You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.

You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.

-------

You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today.

You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later.

You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later.

“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder.

You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible.

“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed.

You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.”

“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look.

“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.”

Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.”

You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.

-------

You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included.

That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall.

The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image.

You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous.

You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically.

You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful.

You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song.

More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters.

Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly.

You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her.

They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.

You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation.

“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face.

“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?”

You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters.

Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck!

Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.

You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come.

A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt.

“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly.

“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head.

“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.”

You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others.

-------

Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right.

She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face.

“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly.

Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?”

Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.”

Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset.

“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.”

Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.”

Eli chuckled. “I will.”

She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that.

-------

You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you.

“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed.

“I know, mija, I am so sorry.”

“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.”

Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t.

-------

It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life.

Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.

“Mami, I-”

“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.”

“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach.

“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”

“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.”

“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were.

“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life.

Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it.

Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you.

--------

Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch.

Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?”

Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba.

It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said.

“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister.

“We really did.” Alba replied.

“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared.

“We really do.” Alba agreed.

“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?”

“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face.

Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.”

“New car?”

“New house?”

“Can we buy her a country?”

They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior.

-------

The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset.

You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face.

“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently.

“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged.

“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you.

Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands.

“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them.

“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?”

“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this.

“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly.

“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?”

Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her.

“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped.

Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that.

“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.”

Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?”

“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse.

“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety.

“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’”

“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head.

“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.”

At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot.

“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer.

With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.”

Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore.

“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments.

Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work.

-------

Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in.

Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself.

“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?”

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face.

Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes.

“Do you think that is enough?” You asked.

Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.”

Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway.

“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight.

It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you.

“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you.

You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting.

You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears.

Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters.

Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot.

Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed.

Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you.

It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special.

You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself.

You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught.

“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other.

They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction.

“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered.

“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”

And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be.

When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands.

It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get.

-------

Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands.

And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted.

“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands.

“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.”

Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded.

“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly.

“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it.

“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.”

“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-”

Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit.

“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.”

Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed.

Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be.

-------

it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.

everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.

hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #putellas!reader #platonic reader

976 notes · View notes

c0eu4 · 5 months

Text

CL16 | Real orgasm ♡

Summary: Y/n confess to Charles that she doesn't know what true orgasm is. And he shows her what it is.

Warning: oral (f receiving), fluff?

A/N: Hope you'll like it <3

MASTERLIST request are open

Charles sits down on her sofa, putting his feet on the coffee table. She sits next to him, putting the blanket over them.

He takes the remote and turns on the TV. ''What do we watch tonight?'' He asked her, scrolling through the thumbnails on Netflix.

She makes herself comfortable with cushions behind her back and brings her cup of tea. ''I let you choose this time.''

He sighs and keeps scrolling, sometimes reading the summary before finally putting something on.

As the movie starts, she sips her tea, passing her cup to Charles who take a sip too. They're not best friends for nothing. They have known each other since they were little and they always share everything. So him drinking in the same cup as her is certainly not a problem.

And tonight he came to her house to comfort her. Her boyfriend cowardly cheated on her then left her, like a poor toy. Charles helps her to go through this. Even when she were at her lower, he was there.

And what an irony that he put a movie where the main character cheats on her boyfriend with everyone.

''Uhm you might wanna change ?'' He asks her about the third sex scene that happens, where the main character seems really excited about the idea of getting caught.

''Mh no it's ok.'' She squeezed her thighs, wishing her boyfriend was like in the movie, who knows how to bring pleasure to a woman.

''You ok?'' He asked her, putting his hand on her thigh. He really shouldn't have done that. Despite the fact that he's her best friend, she can't control her hormones and can't help but get a little wetter.

''I..I was just thinking about the fact that I have never cum so brutally. Maybe I never cum, I don't know haha.'' He looked at her, stunned. Not because they never talk about sex. But rather by the fact that she admits to him that she has never had an orgasm.

''Was your boyfriend that bad? For never having made you cum?'' She shrugged her shoulders.

Charles finds himself blushing just thinking about Y/n, actually cumming for the first time.

''You..you want me to show you what real orgasm is ?'' He asked her, almost whispering because of his shyness.

She turned her head towards him, her cheeks red. What should she do? She's so horny now that she can't say no. But does that also mean maybe ruining their friendship?

''Y-yes... Please.'' Charles himself didn't expect her to say yes. He brings his head closer to hers, his lips a few millimeters from hers. She can feel his breath on her lips and it gives her goosebumps. She closes her eyes, hoping that Charles will make the first move, because she doesn't dare to.

Just as she was about to open her eyes again, because she thought Charles wouldn't move, his lips stuck to her. His hand slides down her neck and brings her head closer to his, deepening the kiss with small movements. He moves forward so much that she lies down on the sofa, him on top of her.

''You have to tell me now if you want to stop.'' He kisses her cheeks.

''K-keep please..'' He kisses her jaw, under her ear, her neck and her collarbone. His hands slip under her t-shirt, removing it slowly. She feels shivers down her spine when he starts to rub his hands against her waist, hips, thighs and upper ass.

She found herself moaning softly, but naturally, not faking it. His kisses tease her breasts, unclipping her bra easily. He looked up at her, as if he was asking her if he could touch it.

''You..you can..'' She whispered, shyly. One of his hands found its way to massage her breasts, licking the nipples of the other one.

Charles is a smart man. And seeing that she didn't react more than that when he teased her with her breasts, he didn't dwell on it too much.

His kisses keep going lower, until he nibbles softly in her flat belly, removing her pants gently. He takes one of her hands and places it on his hair, indicating for her to play with it.

She runs her hand through it, stroking his soft hair and playing with a few strands with her fingertips. He tries to spread her legs but she unconsciously resists.

''Don't be stressed, princess.. Is it ok if I call you princess?'' She relaxes a little and Charles manages to position himself correctly between her legs.

''Y-Yes.. I like it.'' She whines softly when she feels him blowing on her panties.

He bites his bottom lip, looking at her, full of lust and hunger. A white stain is visible through her panties and Charles wants to eat her out so badly.

As if to answer him, she lightly presses Charles' head towards her privacy. He doesn't wait for a second signal and lets his fingers slide between her folds through her panties.

''Charles !'' She moaned, surprising him and herself. He allows himself to remove her panties, seeing her completely naked in front of him.

''You're so beautiful, princess..'' She put her hand over her mouth and her eyes widened when she felt Charles's lips against her bundle of nerves. He grabs her arm that's hiding her mouth, taking her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers.

''Close your eyes and don't hold back your beautiful voice..'' She closes her eyes like Charles told her, enjoying his lips and tongue.

He makes small circles with his tongue, using his free hand to push a finger inside her. She grips his hair a little tighter, digging her nails into the skin of his hand with her other hand.

The room is filled with her moans, sounding like a melody to the ears of Charles's. He inserts a second finger, making her moan louder. She feels a sensation she has never felt. Her whole body is tense and her legs are shaking uncontrollably.

She can't help but moan, Charles moving his fingers in and out quickly, in a wet and tight song. And when her whole body relaxes, without even realizing it, she drowns Charles with her precious liquid.

Charles is proud of himself. He succeeded in his mission. He made her cum. Probably for the first time in her life, given how quickly she let it go.

He gets up from between her legs after cleaning her as best he could with his tongue. He licks his two fingers, full of her liquid and also cleans his chin with his hand.

She sits up a little straighter on the sofa, not knowing what to do.

''How was it ?'' He looked at her with a naughty smile. She blushes when she sees him like that, his hair all messy by her hand.

''Incredible.'' She finds herself blushing even more when she admits that Charles makes her feel good.

''You.. want to go further?'' She smiles tenderly at him.

''I'm sorry but I'm so tired after.. my first orgasm.'' Charles chuckled and passed to her, her clothes that were on the floor.

''Never say sorry for refusing to go further.'' He passed his hand through his hair, trying to fix it.

''Can you..Sleep with me ?'' She puts her t-shirt back on and takes out her hair with a gesture of her hands. Charles looks at her doing that, his eyes full of love.

''Of course, princess.'' He winked at him, carrying her suddenly like a princess. She clutches her t-shirt, feeling slightly afraid.

''Cha! Careful!!'' He giggles and places her on her bed.

''Do you mind if I sleep in boxers?'' She finds herself blushing again. She knows that their relationship is no longer the same now.

''No no it's ok.'' He removes his jeans and t-shirt quickly, lying down beside her. She doesn't dare to go against him, not really knowing his reaction.

''Y/n?'' He asked her with a soft voice, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.

''Yes Charlie?'' Her eyes are wide open, a knot in her stomach.

''Do you want to be my girlfriend?'' She turns red at his request.

''I..I would love to.'' Charles chuckles and moves his head towards her, kissing her tenderly. His hand resting on her waist, pulling her closer to him.

#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc x reader #help he's so cute #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #smut fanfiction #fluff #smut #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16

1K notes · View notes

minkyungseokie · 29 days

Text

Three’s A Crowd II | Pierre Gasly + Kika Gomes

synopsis; pierre and kika are still trying to get the oblivious and feeling denying y/n to realize just how in love they are with her, but y/n refuses to believe it

warnings; poly, gxg, throuple, homophobia, internalized homophobia, hateful family,

mentions of weaponizing religion, questioning someone’s faith, verbal and physical abuse, and disowning a minor

This is not meant to offend anyone. This is singing both me and a couple I know have experienced.

note; not requested

note2; bruh, I had so much trouble writing this and getting it out. I had so many ideas, but no way of excecuting any of it.

Sorry if this isn’t good enough. I tried to put this off until i could come up with something, but I didn’t want to leave ya hanging

Let's ignore the one in light mode. Also, I know people have lives, but the slug like rate F1 fics are being posted concerns me lol.

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Pierre Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

Y/n sighed. She had woken up due to the sensation of needing to go to the bathroom and the room being way too hot, only to find Pierre and Kika wrapped around her as if she were a tree and they were sloths. Well, more like Kika was holding onto her as if she was a sloth and Y/n was a tree, with her arms wrapped around Y/n's neck loosely and her leg thrown over her hips. Pierre was also clinging onto her, but he somehow ended up on top of her, which was why she was in her current predicament.

She desperately needed to pee, but she didn't want to wake them up. She needed the time before they woke up to fully think about how she felt.

She wanted to confess to the couple every minute she spent with them. Her heart told her to confess and finally get the love she had been yearning for, but her head told her no. Her head told her that she was disgusting for liking two people at once, her head told her that she is a homewrecker for liking both of them and possibly breaking them up,, her head told her to protect her heart from rejection and keep the friendship rather than sacrifice it for her selfish feelings.

She had so much going on inside her head that she needed to leave the room right them or else she'd break down and she would rather not have to explain why she's having a random breakdown in the bed.

Y/n managed to get Pierre off of her and wrapped around Kika instead before jumping out of bed and hightailing it to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn't get into a relationship even if she was willing to ruin her friendship. Despite her saying that she was confident and secure in her sexuality, she really wasn't.

Being raised in a highly homophobic environment where she was taught to be a submissive house wife and her brother was raised in the mindset of a toxic "alpha" male. Y/n may have been kicked out because she didn't take in the teachings her parents tried to force into her mind, but she was still raised in a household where being different was disgusting for twenty years of her life.

It was a hard mindset to get rid of without the correct help and, to be quite honest, she never talked to anyone about it other than Pascale Leclerc, who wanted to put Y/n into therapy. If Y/n didn't basically have a panic attack when the therapist tried to pry too far, too fast, things probably would've been different.

Y/n tried to swallow the lump in her throat and keep the tears from exiting her tear ducts. Y/n began to sniffles and furiously wipe her eyes as the tears fell down her face.

Kika stretched as Pierre got out of the bed and put on a shirt, "Where's Y/n?" Kika asked, scratching her head. "Not sure. She was gone when I woke up. Maybe the bathroom since the door is closed." Pierre shrugged, leaning over to kiss the model. Kika stood up and walked up to the bathroom door, "Hey, Minha linda. Are you okay in there?" Kika spoke, knocking on the thick wooden door.

Y/n didn't answer.

"Minha linda?" Kika called out, pressing her ear to the door to see if she could hear any movement or the shower. Kika's heart lurched when she heard labored breathing rather than the sound of water running, "Y/n?! Are you okay? Can I come in, please?" Kika asked worriedly, putting a hand on the doorknob.

Pierre looked over at the sound of his girlfriend's panicked voice. The French man dropped what was in his hand and marched over to his girlfriend's side, "What's wrong, mon cœur?" Pierre questioned worriedly. "I think something's wrong with Y/n. She seems to be in distress." Kika answered, turning back to the door and trying the doorknob.

It was locked just as she thought.

"Y/n? Please let us in. We just want to make sure that you're okay." Pierre spoke up, knocking on the door gently, but there was no answer. Kika put her ear to the door to see if she could hear more, only to hear hyperventilating, "She's hyperventilating. We have to get in there." Kika said, "There's a key right here just in case." Pierre explained, reaching up to grab a key off the doorframe. Kika snatched the key and fumbled trying to put it in the keyhole, "Stop, stop, stop. Kika, look at me. I need you to take a deep breath and calm down. Panicking will not help our Y/n." Pierre soothed.

Kika nodded, taking a few deep breaths. In, out, in, out.

Now calmed, Kika inserted the key into the keyhole and unlocked the door. Pierre grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open, "Oh, shit. She's having a panic attack." Pierre cursed. "I'm going to touch you, is that alright?" Pierre asked, hands hovering over Y/n's body, waiting until he got permission before sitting on the floor and pulling Y/n into his lap with Kika sitting right next to them looking up what to do when one is having a panic attack, "Okay, first step is to remain calm and ask them if they need anything." Kika instructed.

"Do you need anything, mon cœur?" Pierre muttered, holding Y/n to his chest. Y/n shook her head, but her panic attack ensued, "Can you raise up a hand for me?" Kika asked, hovering a hand over Y/n's back. Y/n shakily held up a hand and kept it there until Kika told her to put it back down. Kika had the girl repeat the action until her breathing calmed only a bit.

Pierre took Y/n's head and gently put it on his chest, "Can you hear me breathing?" Pierre inquired, earning a nod from Y/n. "Good, now I need you to try a breathe with me. Just try to copy my breathing." Pierre suggested. Pierre took Y/n's hand, Kika took the other one, and placed it on his chest.

Pierre began to take deep breaths until Y/n began to try and copy, "I'm proud of you. Good job." Kika praised, stroking Y/n's curls, "That's it, my girl. Concentrate on your breathing. Stay in the present." Pierre said. "You can get through this." Kika encouraged, placing a kiss on Y/n's forehead.

The couple continued to praise and say words of affirmation until she stopped hyperventilating, but she was still breathing hard and shaking, "Hey, gorgeous. Can you look at me?" Kika asked, placing her hands on Y/n's thighs, gently stroking them as a form of comfort. Y/n turned and looked Kika in the eyes, "That's my girl. Can you name three objects you see for me, hm?" Kika queried.

Y/n's eyes darted around frantically, "Hey, don't stress yourself out. It's okay. You don't need to search. Just name me the first three things you see." Kika gently ordered.

Y/n nodded and took a shaky breath, "Bru-brush, um, r-ring, and...and, um, shoes." Y/n stuttered, looking around.

"Good girl." Pierre praised, stroking Y/n's arm comfortingly, "That's perfect. You're doing amazing. Now, can you name me the things you can hear?" Kika asked. "Yo-you, the wind, a-and Pierre's breathing." Y/n let out a sigh, "Great, not move three body parts." Kika said. Y/n wiggles her toes, then her fingers, and then her ankle. "That's it. You did perfect, chérie." Pierre praised, "You did so amazing. I'm so proud of you." Kika joined the praising.

Y/n took a couple of more breaths and stood up, "Thank you. For helping." Y/n thanked in a dull voice. "Do you want to tell us what caused your panic attack?" Pierre asked, "It's just...I..." Y/n hesitated, Kika reached over and put a hand on Y/n's thigh again, "It's okay. You don't have to tell us if you aren't ready." Kika spoke, "We're here if you want to though." Pierre added.

"I just started thinking about...someone I really like and I began thinking about my family. They weren't the...they didn't like... they were homophobic and when I thought about them. I thought I was confident in my preferences, but I realized just how much my parents teachings affected me." Y/n explained, "Internalized homophobia, I guess."

Pierre and Kika shared a look, "You're...your parents didn't accept the fact that you liked more than men?" Kika asked, "Yeah, they said that the Bible is against same sex love. Just like all the other Christians who hate the LGBTQ, they use the Bible to "prove" their views. I asked my mother, who caught me kissing my best friend, where in the Bible did it say that loving someone of the same sex and she slapped me." Y/n chuckled.

As Y/n talked, she slid down until her head was in Pierre's lap and her bottom was in Kika's. Kika played with Y/n's shirt while Pierre ran his hand through her hair the best he could but since it was curly, he had to settle for scratching her head. "And then what happened?" Kika asked, urging Y/n to continue, "She allowed me to stay for a bit longer, in the house, but there was constant verbal and physical abuse." Y/n swallowed.

"She thought that if they treated me the way others in the world would treat me, it'd convert me. They tried sending me to conversion therapy, but we got into a fight and I got kicked out. Luckily, the Leclerc's took me in and raised me to be the way I am now. I owe them my life. They're the only family I have now and they've tried to help me, but I refused therapy. I thought I had the right mindset, but now I realize that...I'm not as tough as i thought and the family's tracings did, in fact, get to me." Y/n sighed before realizing she was ranting about problems that they weren't apart of.

Y/n didn't realize just how comfortable she felt around them until she was spilling her past to them. “I just realized I’m trauma dumping to you. I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear this.” Y/n started to sit up, but Pierre pulled her back down while Kika gently pushed her down. “Mon cœur, if we didn’t want to hear, we wouldn’t have asked. We care about you. We…we love you and we want to hear things about you.” Pierre said, “The good or the bad. We want to know whatever it is you want to tell us.” Kika added.

Y/n looked into Pierre’s ocean blue eyes before locking eyes with Kika. The couple stared at Y/n expectantly, “What?” Y/n asked, eyes darting between the two. Pierre groaned and Kika sighed, Pierre thought she would get what they meant when he said it, but maybe saying it constantly as friends didn’t help.

They would have to find a way to confess that couldn’t be confused as a friendly gesture.

After getting dressed for the day, the three set off to walk around town. They were planning on showing Y/n around Italy by taking her to their favorite spots. Making sure her hands never left theirs or a hand was on her body at all times, they showed her all their favorite places before stopping at a cafe for lunch.

“Ah, this place is so cool,” Y/n said, swinging their connected hands back and forth, “Yeah? Do you think you can make it home? I know you’ve been thinking about moving to Italy or are you staying in Monaco?” Kika questioned. “Maybe. I mean, my family’s in Monaco, but you and Pierre are in Italy. So far, I think that I’m team Italy.” Y/n said absentmindedly.

Kika and Pierre shared an excited look. “Tonight. We tell her tonight.” Pierre mouthed to Kika, who agreed. They’d be confessing their love to Y/n tonight during dinner.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Y/n sat on the beach while Kika and Pierre played in the water. She smiled and took some pictures for Instagram and Twitter later, knowing that Pierre would want some for the photo dump he posted sometimes before the next GP. The girl scrolled through Instagram, just looking at whatever her friends posted and looking at reels until she noticed one with her name in it.

Twitter/X when Y/n, Pierre, and Kika look so cute together, but they can't see it.

With the caption reading, 'I don't understand how they can be so obvious and oblivious at the same time.'

Y/n scrambled onto Twitter to find that she indeed was trending alongside Kika and Pierre. Pressing onto the hashtag with her name on it, she read the posts to see what people were saying

Y/n lowered her phone and stared ahead with wide eyes. Had she actually been missing the signs that Pierre and Kika had been throwing her? They were normally super close. Always touching and being super close, so it was hard for her to tell they wanted to be more than friends.

Y/n looked up at the blue sky, trying to think of anything that could've been seen as a hint as that they wanted to be more than friends with Y/n. Nothing came to mind until she started cycling through the things that they usually do with her throughout the years.

The kissing.

Y/n had never had that type of interaction between any of them before this year. She didn’t know when it started, but she knew it just happened one day and she never questioned it. Her forehead, her temple, her nose, her cheeks, her hands, and the top of her head. Now that she thought about it, there were times where they were close to kissing her lips and she just someone hadn’t noticed.

“What’s got you so concentrated?” Pierre’s voice spoke from behind her as he sat down so that she was between his legs, “Yeah, what’s got your attention like that?” Kika questioned, sitting in between Y/n’s legs.

“Ah, it’s nothing. I was just…thinking about stuff.” Y/n waved off their concern, wrapping her arms around the slightly older model while leaning against Pierre. “Are you sure? You looked deep in thought when we came up. We even called you, but you didn’t answer.” Kika said, “Everything is fine. Again, I was just thinking about something. Do you think we can get some gelato?” Y/n asked, quickly changing the subject.

Kika sat up excitedly, “Ooo, gelato sounds perfect. It’s a good idea. Let’s go!” Kika grabbed Y/n’s hand and ran to the nearest gelato shop, “Wait, Ki. What about Pierre?” Y/n asked, looking at the man who was still sitting on the beach with a confused look on his face. “We’ll get him some too. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you, even if it’s just a couple of minutes.” Kika flirted, batting her pretty little lashes at Y/n.

Y/n practically melted in her flip flops.

Now that she has been made aware that the two openly flirt with her, she was going to try and see it. She could now see that Kika tended to use her large brown eyes to her advantage and it always worked on her unknowingly.

“You’re adorable.” Y/n muttered, pinching Kika’s cheeks causing the girl to groan and slap her hands away, “Stop! You’re acting like my grandmother.” Kika whined. The girls walked up to the counter and ordered their gelatos with Pierre getting bacio, Kika getting stracciatella, and Y/n getting lampone.

“Pierre, we’ve got you gelato!” Y/n sung, playfully swaying hips in a weird dance as the two girls approached the man. “What did you get me?” Pierre asked, grabbing the gelato from Y/n’s hands, “Bacio.” Kika answered, “Mmm, lampone is so good. Do you two want to try?” Y/n asked, holding out a spoonful of her gelato out for Pierre.

Pierre stared into her eyes as he took the spoon in his mouth and licked his lips once she took the spoon back, “Cheeky.” Y/n whispered, turning to feed Kika some of it as well.

Y/n decided that if they were really into her, she’d openly flirt with them and let them make the first move. She wasn’t going to take the word of people online and possibly break up their perfect friendship or the couple’s relationship. If anything were to happen, she’d have to let them to do it to make sure that she doesn’t cross any boundaries and make them uncomfortable. “That real is good. Do you want some of mine?” Pierre asked. The trio kept feeding each other spoonful of gelato and making jokes.

Y/n began to feel uncomfortable with how bright the sun was. She reached into her bag and pulled it sunscreen, “We need to put this on. Tans are amazing, but possible skin cancer is not.” Y/n waved the bottle around. Y/n opened the bottle only to have it snatched out of her hand, “Hey!” Y/n gasped, looking at Pierre, “I’ll help you put it on.” Pierre offered. “I’d this and excuse to touch my ass?” Y/n teased, looking at Pierre through narrowed lids, “Who knows?” Pierre shrugged, smiling at the curly-haired girl.

Y/n lifted her hair up so that Pierre could get her neck, “Kika, sit in front of me. I’ll get you covered if you need sunscreen.” Y/n offered, pulling out another bottle of sunscreen. “Yes, please.” Kika crawled in between Y/n’s legs, putting her hair into a bun so none of the sunscreen got into it.

Y/n sat up so that she was on her knees with her legs in an “L” shape. Y/n opened the sunscreen bottle and began applying it to Kika when she felt Pierre’s hands brushing sand off her ass and then sunscreen being applied to her butt and thighs, “I feel like you’re having too much fun touching my ass, Mr. Gasly.” Y/n hummed, “Maybe I am.” Pierre played along, “You hear this, Kiki? We might have to run away together and leave Pierre behind.” Y/n joked as the model laid on her stomach to give Y/n better access to her body.

Y/n sighed, looking through her Instagram feed with a bored expression on her face. Kika and Pierre had gone out to do lord knows what while she stayed in the villa. Y/n groaned, throwing her phone on the bed. Maybe they were were on a date together and that's why they were taking so long to come back.

Y/n got off the bed and grabbed a towel, going to take a shower while waiting for the couple to come back from doing whatever it was that they were doing. Stepping out of the shower and wrapping the towel around her body, Y/n walked out into the bedroom and grabbed her lotion, deodorant, and stuff for her hair. Just as she was about to remove the towel, the door to the bedroom opened up.

“Merde, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were getting dressed.” Pierre cursed, turning so he wasn’t looking at her body anymore, “Shit, you scared me. You’re lucky that i didn’t take off my towel.” Y/n scolded. “Sorry!” Pierre apologized, but he didn’t make the move to leave the room. “Pierre, what’s taking so long?” Kika asked, pushing past him to see Y/n in nothing but a towel.

Kika pulled an outfit out of a bag and tossed it on the bed, “Here put that on and come out when you’re done.” Kika ordered, pulling Pierre out of the doorway and shut the door behind her. Y/n moisturized her body and held up the outfit that was tossed to her. She recognized that this was an outfit that she had bought when she and Kika went shopping together before the trip.

(If you don’t like the outfit, feel free to imagine your own. Just needs to be black)

She didn’t realize she had packed it.

Y/n put on a pair of boots, put her hair in twin buns, and (put on makeup or not. Your choice) walked out of the room to see that Kika and Pierre are also dolled up. Kika in a black mini dress and heels, and Pierre wearing black pants with thin white lines that crossed to male squares and a black button down.

“You guys look good!” Y/n spoke up, grabbing their attention. Pierre and Kika’s eyes scanned her body like they were staring and analyzing a piece of art, “You look amazing, minha vida.” Kika complimented, “So do you! My gosh, your legs are gorgeous.” Y/n said. Kika’s cheeks turned pink, “Oh, thank you. Pierre, didn’t she look good?” Kika asked, turning to Pierre, who was still staring at Y/n, but with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Pierre? Please stop staring.” Y/n said, looking away nervously, “Pierre.” Kika hissed, nudging her boyfriend. Pierre snapped back to attention and gave Y/n and wrapped an arm around Kika’s waist, “You look nice, chérie.” Pierre said, holding out his arm for Y/n to take.

Y/n looked at his arm and reluctantly took it. Even if the people on Twitter were right, Y/n still felt like she was home wrecking their relationship, which is why she decided to let them take control and comes if they really did like her. Y/n cleared her throat, “So, uh, where are we going?” Y/n asked as Pierre led the two of them to his car, opening the door and pushing the seat forward so Y/n could get into the back. “Out.” Pierre amswered cheekily, “But out where?” Y/n questioned as she put on her seatbelt, “We’re just going out for dinner. It’s the last day of our break together before Suzuka.” Kika explained.

Y/n nodded and looked out the window of the car. The only people who were talking were Kika and Pierre, who were mumbling low so she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Y/n was getting annoyed. After rubbing sunscreen on each others bodies, she thought they’d be more open and flirtatious with her, but it seemed like they were just pulling away more.

Maybe the people online were wrong. Maybe they were just seeing things and upon seeing something that wasn’t actually there, they convinced Y/n that the couple had wanted her the way she wanted them. Y/n sighed and looked down at her hands, maybe she was just being…what do the fans call it? Delulu?

Maybe she was being delulu when it came to her relationship with Kika and Pierre. She had an entire panic attack over being in love with another woman and possibly breaking up a relationship and it turns out it might’ve been justified. The woman’s mood soured right then and there. She didn’t want to go out anymore, but remained quiet because it wasn’t their fault she deluded herself into thinking that they’d love her the way she loved them.

“Y/n? We’re here.” Kika spoke, poking her with her mini Kelly, “Oh? Yeah, I’m coming.” Y/n said, trying not to let the emotion she was feeling bored into her voice. Y/n exited the car, ignoring the hand Pierre was offering to her and walked in the restaurant ahead of the couple, “Does she seem upset to you?” Kika asked, “Yeah, I don’t know. Are you sure we should do this tonight?” Pierre inquired. “We should. It might improve her mood.” Kika said.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It was well into the night and meals were halfway eaten by the time the two were ready to confess. Y/n was just ready to go home because she was tired and didn’t want to continue third wheeling. At the same time, she had no right to be upset when she was the one who deluded herself into thinking they genuinely were interested. Kika wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin before putting it down, "Y/n, there's something we have to--"

"Excuse me."

A new voice interrupted Kika's sentence causing all eyes to turn to the person who interrupted the said woman. It was a gorgeous man with red and black dyed hair, "Hello, can I help you?" Y/n asked politely, "I apologize if this straightforward, but I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask if you wanted to come hang out with me." The guy said. Y/n wasn't really interested in him the way he was with her, but she was kind of upset and tired of being the third wheel on this outing, so she didn't see why she couldn't get to know someone new.

The man held out a hand for her to take if she was interested. Y/n looked at the hand and put her hand into his, "Do you guys mind if I go with him? You can make this a date or something." Y/n said, standing up. "It is a date so you can't leave!" Kika blurted, "What do you mean by that, Kika?" Y/n asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Y/n, we just wanted to spend time with you before we all had to go back to our respective jobs. We don't want you blowing us off for some random ass-- person you just met." Pierre spoke, "Then it should be alright if he sits with us, right? And what were you going to say before you changed the word to person? " Y/n questioned. She wasn't trying to be difficult or break up the time they were spending together, but instead trying to take her mind off of the couple and maybe fall in love with someone available.

"Nothing. He was going to say nothing. Y/n, please sit down and let him go. We are just trying to have a nice evening with you." Kika said, "Kika, I understand that and I'm sorry for trying to invite some random dude out of the blue, but I was tired of being the third-wheel. I want to have someone to talk to while you're being all lovey dovey with each other." Y/n sighed, turning to the guy. "I'm sorry, but can we rain check?" Y/n asked

The man pulled a pen out of his pocket and grabbed a paper napkin nearby, bending down and using the table to write something on the napkin, "Don't worry about it. Finish hanging out with your friends and call me whenever. The name's Milo by the way." The guy said, gently placing the paper into her hands.

"It was lovely meeting you." Y/n said, waving as he left. Once Milo was gone, Y/n turned to the couple with a scowl before taking a deep breathe and sitting down. "Listen, Y/n. We didn't mean to ruin your chances at possibly meeting someone you could have a future connection with, but--" "It's fine. It's whatever. I was... never mind. I'm sorry. I'm just not feeling it tonight." Y/n sighed again.

"And that's fine. We are sorry as well. Right, Pierre?" Kika asked, turning to her boyfriend, "No." Pierre answered causing both girl's heads to shoot up, "What?" Kika gasped, "What do you mean by "no"?" Y/n asked. "I meant no. Listen, I'm sorry you feel like the third wheel and I'm sorry you felt like we weren't giving you enough attention..."

"Pierre, what are you..." Kika started

"We actually invited you to this trip because we had something we've been meaning ot tell you..." Pierre continued

"Pierre..." Kika warned.

"We both love you and before you say that you love us too, we love you. As in, we want you to be our girlfrien--" "Pierre!" Kika hissed, hoping to cut him off before Y/n could fully hear him, but it seemed like it was too late. Y/n sighed, "I know that this is a--''

"Finally. I thought I was being delusional." Y/n gave a sigh of relief. The couple shared a confused look before looking to Y/n, "What do you mean by that?" Pierre questioned, "You think I'd let you touch my ass if I didn't like you? I was oblivious for the first part, but something enlightened me and I saw that it was pretty obvious." Y/n shrugged.

"We were trying to make it obvious, but we didn't expect you to actually get the hints." Kika muttered, "I'm oblivious, not stupid." Y/n joked. "So that finally means I can do this." Pierre surged forward and kissed Y/n deeply, "Pierre, we're still the restaurant." Kika said, pulling him back until he let go of Y/n.

"Wow, I didn't expect that." Y/n said, "You guys go wait by the car while I pay." Pierre suggested. Kika grabbed Y/n's hand and lead her outside while Pierre called the waiter so he could pay the bill.

Pierre also ordered a bottle of wine to go before exiting the resturant to see his girlfriend cuddled up to Y/n. Both girls had dopey smiles on their faces and Y/n had Kika's lipstick smeared on her lips, which gave Pierre an idea of what went on while he was paying. "This means you'll take us as your lovers, no?" Pierre asked, "Yeah, of course." Y/n nodded.

Kika cheered, throwing her arms around the two taller people, bringing them into a group hug. "Ah! Amo-vos muito." Kika muttered, burying her head in Pierre's neck, "Je vous aime tous les deux beaucoup." Pierre spoke before Y/n said it in her own native language.

The trio then went home as a newly formed throuple.

I'm sorry I rushed the ending and at one point I had no idea where this was going. I might take this down and rewrite it, but for now, here's you part two

416 notes · View notes

barcaatthemoon · 2 months

Text

an american breakfast || lucy bronze x reader ||

lucy makes you a special breakfast to make up for a fight.

you woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon. lucy was absolutely nowhere to be found in the bedroom. you took your time getting up and going out into the kitchen. you were genuinely surprised to see lucy cooking for you, especially after your fight the night before. your homesickness had been looming like a storm cloud over your relationship. a harmless comment from one of the girls at practice had spurred on an argument that you had honestly expected to cross over into the morning.

"good morning gorgeous," lucy said with a quick peck to your cheek. she seemed to be in a good mood, which also surprised you. if lucy went to bed angry, she sure as hell woke up the exact same way. last night she had screamed at you and stormed out of the apartment before you fell asleep. whenever she had returned, you were fast asleep in bed, which couldn't have helped her mood.

"morning luce," you replied. lucy set a plate down in front of you, which was when you noticed that these weren't just normal pancakes. lucy had to have gone out and bought chocolate chips just to make you one of your favorite childhood breakfast foods. "what's all this?"

"i may have been a bit of an asshole last night, and i apologize. i know how hard it is to be away from home. you can't just book a quick flight home, so i decided to make something from home for you," lucy explained. she leaned over the counter as she waited for you to take your first bite. you poured a little syrup over the whole plate, including your bacon, before you took a bite. lucy was biting her lip as she watched you.

"relax, it's good. it's really good, thank you lucy," you told her. lucy let out a sigh of relief. she made herself a little plate, which was what really surprised you. "i thought you'd never eat a breakfast like this."

"hey, it may seem like a dessert rather than a healthy breakfast, but i've earned it. besides, i should probably know what all the fuss is about," lucy reasoned. you chuckled to yourself as you watched her eagerly dig in. lucy made a little groan as she took a bite, obviously not having thought about how delicious it could have been.

"better than beans and toast?" you asked. lucy sent you a glare, but reluctantly nodded her head. you smirked to yourself as you shoved another bite into your mouth. lucy managed to down her breakfast at twice your speed. you took your time, savoring each bite as if it would be your last. there was a good chance that you'd get it again, especially since lucy liked it. however, you knew that you'd have to make some changes to fit it into your meal plans.

"now, not to ruin the moment, but i did slave over the stove making that breakfast for you…" lucy trailed off as she glanced towards the sink. you rolled your eyes as you stood up straight. you walked around the counter to where she was leaning to give her a kiss. it wasn't like her quick little peck on the cheek. you wanted a real kiss, and that was what you got.

"i'll do the dishes. go relax, i don't like the way you do them anyway," you teased. lucy scoffed and pouted at you, but the pout didn't last very long. she couldn't be pouty when you were kissing her and opening up your mouth just enough for her tongue to slip past your lips. you tasted like the breakfast she had just made, only with the heavy sweetness of maple syrup.

lucy moved to pin you against the counter as she deepened the kiss even more. the sweetness on your tongue was addictive. lucy just barely let you break the kiss for air before she was kissing you again. this time, you pushed back, slowly walking her into the living room before you shoved her away. lucy stumbled backwards, but she kept her eyes on you while you cleaned things up. you had meant it whenever you said you didn't like the way she did dishes, so you were glad when she actually stayed out of the kitchen.

#lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics

388 notes · View notes

jamespotterismydaddy · 7 days

Text

The Manor

modern!aegon x neice!reader

A/N: this is based off a short little blurb i did the other day. just thought i'd make it into smth more

WARNINGS: SMUT!!, DUBCON!, incest, exhibitionism perhaps, pervy aegon

WORD COUNT: 1,468 words

There’s nothing you hate more than family gatherings. It’s a pity really because you know you would enjoy them if it wasn’t for one thing… your uncle. Aegon torments you endlessly. It started small when you were younger, tugging on your braids like a schoolboy. Now, it’s the way his touches linger. He gets more and more reckless with each graze… each grope. Your brothers could see, his mother could see if only they looked close enough.

It’s your grandfather’s birthday today, a summertime celebration that you resent because it means a whole weekend spent at the manor and Aegon loves nothing more than a tantalizing, off-limits girl in a sundress.

“You wouldn’t deny your favourite uncle a hug, would you?” He says with a smirk as you walk up the steps. Your step-grandmother is oblivious as she beckons you over.

“Family greets each other with hugs!” She encourages, pulling you into her soft embrace before pushing you into his.

Filthy arms snake around your waist and you hate how your body leans into his. You hate how good it feels when his hand slips up your dress to give your ass a sneaky squeeze, fingertips just barely grazing your clothed pussy. You try not to gasp as you push him away, glaring at him for his perversion.

“So good to see you, little niece.” He gives you a wolfish grin before letting you walk away, if only so he can watch you go.

~~~

You get into your bikini after unpacking, wanting to soak in that hot summer sun before it sets. You venture outside to the pool just to see that you’re the only one there as Daeron and Helaena are down by the beach and your dumbass brothers are probably napping after the long car ride. As for Aemond, who knows what he’s up to. You walk over to a sunchair and lay your towel on it as he sneaks up behind you. You feel the ties of your bikini top undo with one swift motion.

You whip around. “Aegon, you bastard!” You grab the sides of your top to keep yourself covered but that only gives him the chance to tug down your bottoms.

“Ohh someone’s keeping herself well groomed for me.” He muses as you pull them back up and shove him away.

“Keep your hands away from me, perv!”

“If you want my hands off then why did you shave your pussy bare for me?” He smirks, stalking closer to you as you back away.

“Who said it’s for you?” You snark back.

That comment pisses him off a bit and he grabs your arm to pull you back to him. “Yeah? Like you’re fucking someone.” He pushes his hand down the front of your bottoms. “Not when you’re this wet for me.”

“I hate you.” You squirm out of his hold but he still sends you off with a harsh smack on the ass as you storm away.

“Sure you do, sweetheart!”

You make your way to your room, locking your door and changing out of your bathing suit and into a short sundress so you aren’t lounging in swimwear.

Gods, maybe he’s right about you doing things for him. If you were so disgusted by his advances then you would probably want to drown yourself in clothing, rather than dress yourself in such a tiny garment. And more than anything, you wait around for him, eventually falling into a mid-day slumber.

You’re awoken by the feeling of gentle fingertips gliding up and down your navel before fluttering across your collarbones. When your eyes finally open, taking their time because of how groggy you feel, you’re greeted by the sight of him with a hand down his boxers as he strokes his cock, looking as divine as a fucking god. This is when you notice that the bust of your milkmaid dress has been untied to reveal your pert breasts. You say nothing as you flinch away like a spooked mare, only glaring at Aegon with ire in your eyes.

“You were so peaceful when you were sleeping and now you had to go ahead and ruin it.” He gazes at you with such lustful hunger.

“You like to prey on sleeping girls?”

“I like to prey on you.”

“I’ll scream.”

“Nobody’s home… and I like it when you put up a little fight.”

He gives you a little smirk before lunging at you. You slip off the bed but you’re not on the side of the room with the door so there’s nowhere to run. He backs you into a corner but just watches for a moment, wanting to make you antsy. His lack of action makes you take your chance and you try to bolt past him but he just grabs you around the waist. You swing around him slightly but his hold is firm. Both of his hands snake around your struggling body from behind, his left holding your upper torso all the way up to cup your right breast and his right sliding up your skirt.

“You’re fucking sick. I’m your niece.” You spit out at him.

“You’re just as sick as I am.”

You struggle in his grasp but that doesn’t stop him from getting a firm hold on your panties. He tugs on them and you whimper at the slight pain-pleasure as he uses the fabric to rub against your clit.

“Aegon, stop.” You whine breathlessly as he manoeuvres the garment around to start pleasuring you.

“Give in.” He kisses at your neck. “I know you want to. You’re not saving face for anyone but yourself.” He whispers into your ear.

“Fuck you.” You murmur but it just feels so good.

“You will, whether you’d like to or not. Just give in.”

You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s wrong but you tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder giving him better access to your neck.

“Good girl.”

He starts nipping and sucking at your soft skin even harder now as he unzips your dress. You’re only in your panties now as he shoves you back onto your bed, his lips immediately moving to kiss your supple breasts.

“Such nice tits, baby. Maybe i’ll have a turn fucking them after I split open that tight cunt.” He chuckles as your slight shudder and then rips off your panties so he can bury his face in your pussy.

You can hardly think of how to react as he devours you with such fervour. Aegon has been waiting forever for this moment; he couldn’t keep his eyes off you since you flowered and he eagerly wants to taste you. He wants you to fall apart on his tongue, and then his cock.

And so you do. Your high washes over you like you’ve never felt before. That sick feeling that has created a pit in your stomach only makes it hit even harder.

“Mmm, Aegon.” You whine, fingers tangled in his ivory locks. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

He’s over you, pumping his length already before you’ve even had a chance to recover.

“Use a condom.” You pout, legs spread wide for him.

“Little brats don’t tell their uncles what to do.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t even move to stop him before he’s speared himself inside of you. His mouth is pressed to yours and he swallows all your protests before they can leave your lips. He kisses you with the same fervour that he ate you with as he fucks into you roughly.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He says after breaking the kiss, wanted a good look at your face as he ruins you.

“It’s too much.” You complain.

“Don’t be such a whiner.” He rolls his eyes and lifts your legs to push you into a mating press. If it was too much before, then it’s surely too much now as he somehow hits even deeper.

“Ah ah…” You let out little whimpers at the feeling of being filled so completely.

“God’s, never felt a pussy this tight. Knew you were saving yourself for me, baby.” He says cockily.

You can’t even form a retort, not with how cock-drunk you are from him pistioning his dick in and out of you. All you can think of is how close you are.

“I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Already? Didn’t realize you were such a little slut after only one little taste.”

He talks a lot of talk but once he feels your walls clenching around him, he’s done for. He only manages to get a few more hard thrusts in, fucking you through your high, before he finishes inside you.

Once you come down from your peak, you realize what he’s done.

“Seven Hells, Aegon. Did you just cum inside me?”

taglist(comment to be added): General: @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

#aegon targaryen smut #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon smut #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #hotd #hotd smut

264 notes · View notes

its-actually-minicika · 1 year

Note

Hi, love your works so much! Can't wait for more updates 🥰🥰 I was wondering maybe you'd like the idea where book!Aemond and Velarion!(Strong?)Reader are in an arranged marriage. But Reader just knows what to say and how to act so that Aemond is wrapped around her finger (kinda thought of Margaery and Joffrey situation, she was such a talented schemer, worthy of winning the Throne 😭). I don't really know about the setting, like if it's before, during or after the Dance... just thought it'd be interesting to see this kind of plot with our beloved Prince 🤴🏼🐉

If you don't like it, just ignore me 🙈

Dragon Sickness (18+)

Pairing: bookcanon!Aemond x Strong!Niece!Reader

Warnings: No usage of (Y/N), Greens win AU, bookcanon Greens, the obvious Targaryen incest, mentions of major character deaths (we're entering spoiler grounds, but not really), blood, gore etc.

Word Count: 3.5K+

Author's Note: I fell in love with this idea the moment I saw it! I ended up altering the plot line for this one-shot a little bit - the reader will definitely grow into the Margaery architype, but today you shall see her as she was when she just learned how to make ends meet with her newfound life at Court.

I don't know if I should turn this into yet another series, but if you guys enjoyed this, let me know

Also, thank you so, so much for your kind words ♡ i'm hugging you to the moon and back!

PART 2 IS OUT NOW ♡♡♡

Who could ever blame you for your indiscreet acts? Alliances change when the world you know suddenly turns upside down.

She remembered how weak she was. How scared she had been.

How her eyes widened into two brown specs of uncertainty, how her mouth fell agape, as she mulled over Alicent’s words.

‘You shall marry Aemond within the next moon turns. For the good of the Realm.’

The Dowager Queen had openly admitted to being against the match – of course, the prospect of her perfect son, married off to a lowly bastard of Rhaenyra's (otherwise said, her last surviving child), didn’t specifically thrill her. Much less her demanding and scornful father.

Still, it couldn’t be helped. And if the Velaryon wanted to keep her head away from a spike, she had no other choice but to comply.

Although… she wasn’t a Velaryon now, was she? Aegon the Usurper made sure of that.

His final gift to her was to strip her of all her titles. She had been openly declared a bastard – before the masses, before the Court.

With a wide smile upon his burnt lips, the “King” had told her she’d be a Targaryen instead. Driftmark wouldn’t matter, her legacy wouldn’t matter. Aemond would inherit the seat with the Usurper’s blessing, as a homage brought to his able fighting and his shown bravery on the bloody battlefield.

Never mind that he’d never partaken in a fight; save for the one that killed her stepfather, Daemon, and sent her poor mother in a downward spiral. Aemond had chosen his adversaries wisely, and managed to go through the whole war without as much of a scratch upon his silver armour.

‘I shan’t marry your son. Not now, not ever.’ Her own voice rang out.

‘You will do exactly as demanded.’

‘I would rather die than bear the treacherous children of that monstrous beast.’

A monstrous beast. That is what Aemond was.

And that is what he shall remain. No matter how many gifts he brought to her. No matter how many hours of their days and days in their weeks and weeks in their months they spent promenading those ghastly gardens.

‘You will if you know your best interests. Your own head may hold no value to you, but a single swing of my son’s sword would be enough to bring forth the ruin of House Blackwood.’

At first, she’d been restless in her attempts to escape the Keep. Her every waking hour was spent shamelessly inside the Sept, where she prayed not for the safety of her brothers’ souls, but for revenge against the mutted Greens.

The slight breeze of the cathedral mended her flesh from the heat of summer. And no one dared to approach or talk to her. The quietness was a welcomed deed.

During the first night of their betrothal, her glossy eyes scanned Aemond’s face. His hands wantonly gripped at his thighs and a slight twitch of his mouth, accompanied by an elongated hum escaped his lips.

There was no other discernable expression. And when he led her to the chambers of her early girlhood, he merely bowed and kissed her hand.

She spent the first night of their betrothal scraping her knuckles so harshly, that they broke and cracked under the stimulation of the cold water.

Her thirst for vengeance ceased after the first two months. Her wedding date was approaching swiftly, and she found herself faced with the abhorrent truth. She had no allies. No more friends at Court. The girl had shut herself in her tiny room, losing her mind with the pain and grief that flooded her at night: the faces of her mother, her brothers, her father. The sound of their screams and their endless pleas for help.

Every night, without a fail, she woke up tormented by nightmares – her throat burning with absolving shrieks of fear, exacerbated breaths of air and flimsy nightdresses, damp throughout by breaks of sweat.

The first night she lashed out onto her bedding was the night she found out Aemond had moved his Quarters next to hers. He yanked the door open and stepped into the light of her candle – looking ravished, completely out of breath and startled. Started not for his own accord and safety, but for the state that his future wife had been in.

‘Shit, it’s alright, I’m here–’

The echo of his mellow voice deterred her to let out a blood-curdling scream, that would have rivalled even the one of the late Queen Rhaenyra, after Aegon the Usurper ceased her at Dragonstone, and reeled his dragon to eat her whole.

‘Get the fuck away from me! Get the fuck out of my room!’

Her sobs pierced into the man’s heart, but his hurt expression was masked quickly with one most bitter and taciturn. He clenched his fists ruefully by his side, and spat out an apology in a low and dangerous tone.

‘As you wish.’

And how dearly he loved those words:

‘As you wish.’

'As you desire.’

Even though nothing had been, or ever will be, as she achingly wished them to.

“You could at least attempt to look happy.” His chastising tone rained upon her, as his Lady remained hammered in her seat. Maids flocked to her like lost chickens to their cock, arranging her hair and picking out dresses fit for their engagement parade.

Her face contorted into the mirror, and a faint sigh beleft her lips. Carefully she turned around, reflecting his stance with a subtle arch to her shapely brow.

“It’s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding ceremony.”

“An old wives' tale. And one that applies only on the day itself.”

“Perhaps we should encourage tradition more. Make it so we don’t cross paths at all til then.”

Just as fast as it came, the feral look dissolved over his tired face. Aemond heaved out a heavy exhale and merely settled to growl at her maids.

“Leave us. Now.”

A discontented look painted over her fair features. His niece opened her mouth in protest, to try and stop the fleeing girls from truly making their escape.

“I must remind my Prince that the engagement assembly will be held in less than an hour. I believe I should like them to stay.”

The gathered women exchanged lost and protruding glances, until the former King Regent spoke again.

“They will leave us at once.”

“They’ll do no such a thing. They must make haste to get me ready. We wouldn’t want to upset your mother.”

“I’m more than capable of lacing up a loose bodice.”

The tight expression on her face deserted her features with the leave of his smug retort. She swallowed thickly in enraged abandon, and silently beseeched her ladies not to leave her all alone.

Still ravishing her with his bold stare, Aemond stepped another foot into the cosy confinements of her tidy prison. “If I’m to turn around now and find any of you standing before me, I’ll arrange that you’re all flogged and defiled beyond the utter of salvation.”

Brisk footsteps swallowed the room, echoing wildly through the narrow dark hallways. The former Velaryon shook her head in disarray, and graced her soon-to-be-husband with a tight smile and a nod.

“Congratulations.” She uttered humorously, “I should enjoy looking like a fool tonight much more than being proper by your side.”

As if drowned below a trace, Aemond took another step in the direction of the frowning Princess. His face remained impenetrable, but as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice ran meek, unsure and hoarse.

“Turn around.” He commanded her gently, whilst grabbing a deep green garment from the cluttery made on her bed. Despite her lack of desire to abide by his request, the woman turned her back to him and muttered slowly, though much softer than intended.

“I don’t like that one. It’ll make the skirts look out of place.”

“Which one do you want, then?” His whisper had made her draw in a sharp gasp; the warmth of his breath fell soothingly over the nape of her neck, caressing her delicate skin in a way she hadn’t known was possible.

“The red one with black lacings.”

His hand came to spin her back around, and their noses nearly touched together. A smile tugged at the ends of his upturned lips, but the look inside his eye remained frigid and unforgiving.

“Your petticoat won’t be those colours.”

A conceited scowl graced her face. She reached her hand behind him and skillfully snatched one of a different design. “Fine. I want to wear this one, then.”

The obnoxious blue and silver danced across her paling skin. And if Aemond weren’t so dazed by their proximity and lack of air, he might have laughed at her feeble attempts of vexing him.

“Those are Velaryon hues.”

“Perfect. I shall honour my house well.”

“You are not a Velaryon to grace them with such a feat.”

“No, you are absolutely right. Your brother did name me a Targaryen.”

Their faces were so close to each other, that their moving lips were almost touching.

“Yet I can’t wear black and red either.” A prompted look disarmed the Prince, “It is all very confusing.”

His lone orb descended to her puffing bosom, but Aemond soon directed himself upon a more elusive image. His fingers twitched with the need to grab a hold of her – to pull away those last pieces of cloth that shielded her away from view.

“You know full well why I can’t allow that.” He hummed in unmoving disapproval, “As much as I enjoy your voice and the raptures of your closeness, I must say this conversation bores me.”

“I should be able to wear what I want.” Came her prompt and swift reply, “But of course, Your Grace, forgive me. ‘Tis not for men to pounder on laces and brims.” Her palms took to rest upon his bulging chest, and the girl nearly removed them at once, as the thrumming of his heart enterlaced with her slim fingers. Still, she furrowed her brows in a most perplexed of mockeries, and insatiably drove on, “Indeed resilient men such as yourself occupy their time much better.”

The callouses of his hands fell heavily upon her cheeks.

“Fucking their ways through brothels, getting their pricks wet, and fantasising about wars.”

The harshness of his next tug nearly broke her brave facade – her eyes widened in mistrust, and a slight recoil braced over her straightened back. Her small fingers clasped over his shaking wrist, which held onto her face with a gentleness untoward; one completely mismatching with the predatory glimmer in his eye.

The man he was, and the man he was trying to be would surely never mend to one.

A Kinslayer. A monster. A divergent freak.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

His thumb played absent-mindedly at her lower lip, and the young Princess tried her damnest not to bite him. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?”

“You are as imprudent as you are beautiful. A family trait, I assume.”

“You have my gratitude for the flattering commentary. I’m very proud of my heritage.”

His lilac orb bore into her, and the man let out a reserved laugh, “Your bastard brothers were ample proud. Look where that brought them.” The rough end of his hand gripped her own painfully, before she could make for a swing at his handsome face. “Lost in the seas, rotting at the bottom of an ocean, nestling inside Sunfyre’s belly.”

While her hands were clasped together, her mouth wasn’t sown shut. With a single and effective move, she spat harshly in his face, eliciting a groan from her broader perpetrator.

Though his nostrils flared up in disdain, the man graced her with a calculated smirk. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?” He mocked her with feigned interest.

“Fuck you,” She hissed out slowly, “Don’t you dare talk of my family – my brothers were ten times the man you are.”

“Oh, but I have every right to talk about your family. Given that I will be all yours shortly.” Once more he forced her to turn around, and kneeled over to her spasming form, to begin dressing her up; in nought else, of course, but the mundane silks of his choosing.

"Doesn't the prospect thrill you? To become my lady-wife, to finally bear a true Targaryen inside your royal womb?"

So hopeless and defeated she felt, that the youth jerked herself relentlessly, while repeating him the same plethora of words. “You cannot force me to be your whore. You cannot force me to wear this. I will not bear your Hightower green.”

Aemond could feel his patience running thin – and when her foot came into contact with his setting knee, the man let out a ferocious growl, and promptly trapped the girl in his arms, with the aid of a nearby wall.

“So you want to be difficult? You don’t want to wear this? Hmm? Well, who am I not to abide my Lady’s burning wishes?”

The sharpness of his dagger came into quick contact with the milky skin of her thighs. And she might have almost screamed, if Aemond didn’t immediately pull himself away. His hard chest grazed hers for but a moment, as the Prince cast his attention to her moving shadow.

“If you wish not to attend our engagement parade wearing the clothes I’ve chosen for you,” He muttered against her face, a scorned look adorning his own, “Then you won’t be wearing anything at all.”

She huffed out a dispensing pant and pursed her lips into a tight line.

She remained rigid and poised, until a spark of amusement swirled into her eyes.

The first crack was that of a lax smile. The next, a tremor to her lips. The calm before the storm approached, until all rattled down with a mirthed laugh cascading from her reddened lips.

“Do you mean to frighten me with this promise?” She asked through the arch of an uncertain brow, “As if every man in this cursed Keep won’t get to watch me whore myself out to you anyway, when our wedding night will come?”

His face suddenly hardened at the notion of their reality – as if he didn’t give much thought to the bedding ceremony. To his Lady being watched by a thousand other eyes but his.

Aemond suddenly darkened, and his fist came into contact with a near spot on the wall, so awfully close to her frightened, paling face.

She watched with wide eyes how his stare contorted from one of realisation to one of fury. He stiffly peeled his body away from hers, and strained himself to leave her be. The jealous and possessive knots that churned painfully inside his stomach burned his skin upon the surface, and constricted the air he brashly took in.

He nodded to her in a spry and calloused manner, and brought his hand out to touch her cheek. His knuckles had begun to bleed, busted by the force of impact that his fist had faced for him. Behind his eye danced a look of seldom shame – he gnawed harshly at his bottom lip, and pondered, for a while, on apologising to his niece; for his lack of princely conduct, for his show of impropriety – for his inability to keep himself at bay.

Still his thoughts failed to merge to words, and so the man ran his eye one final time over her defensive pose, and merely left her standing there.

As if turned into a statue, the girl barely registered the lethargic closing of the door, the hurried and heavy footsteps that travelled further and further away from her quaint and cluttered space, and the animated curse that slipped past her uncle's throat.

Did he just dare to leave her there, with her petticoat half up her legs, in nought else but a flimsy nightdress?

At first she thought that his avoidance was a blessing in disguise.

For after clashing wits with Aemond, and after his swift hurried departure, the man had barely graced her with another word.

His hand held onto hers for the whole duration of the procession. He wordlessly forced her to dance two dances, and led her to her Quarters as soon as she mentioned that she was tired.

But his palms didn’t linger on the shape of her narrow waist – his lips barely grazed her knuckles, and Aemond turned with lest a word to add after their fake sympathies were exchanged.

Had he gotten bored of her? Realised what a terrible match they made, and begged his mother on his hands and knees to break off their ill engagement?

For the first time in a while, a new notion of fear engulfed her.

The Greens couldn’t kill her. Of that, she was almost certain. It wouldn't be a wise move, and it would anger the North beyond the power of salvation. The war had had its say on every army that fought into it, yet the Crownlands were especially weak.

But if Aemond were to sever their solidary alliance, then her future would be most uncertain.

Otto Hightower would make her join with an old and withered Lord, no doubt – one with more than enough sons to further on his pesky line. One who couldn’t even get it up to her, who’d never procreate and mend their blood, who’d make sure Rhaenyra’s line would end with her.

Or perhaps she’d be sent to join the Faith – become a Septa or a Silent Sister, among the infamous Maris Baratheons of the Realm. Yet another girl who wouldn’t keep her tongue when asked.

And history might remember them as ‘the women who couldn’t be tamed’, but their lives would be thrown to ruin. Their existence would remain a sham.

No, she had whispered to herself, as she writhed into the soft bedding. If she still thirsted for revenge, she would have to marry Aemond. Keep him interested and relaxed – yearning for her voice and company.

… And if she had to whore herself to him to do it, she would obediently assume her role.

“I beg your pardon?” Aegon asked through another gulp of bitter wine, “Gods be good – I believe that now I’ve heard it all.”

Aemond paced about his brother’s room, with his hands clasped behind his back, and his face set into a deep grimace. He hummed in admission to his brother’s words, and glanced his way with the instance of a hooded eye.

“There is to be no bedding ceremony.” He repeated himself with ease, “I frightened her enough already. The girl will be plenty uncomfortable without the aid of chafing eyes.”

His brother smiled and raised his brows in nothing else but blinding wonder. A small shake of his head indicated his perplexion, and a sharp inhale his drawn decision.

“Mother insisted upon it. You know that well.” The man steadied himself in his chair as he spoke, whilst letting out a small grunt at the contact that the wood made upon his burnt remnants of skin. “I don’t see any reason to annul it. Especially now, an eve before.”

Another sip of the stinging liquor interrupted his smooth and ready trail of thought. The Targaryen brushed off Aemond’s concerns, and gleefully bided his teasing.

“It’ll do the two of you good – you’ll get to see she’s as pure as a bastard girl can be; and she’ll have no deniability that any of her future heirs are yours.” He pointed his weary digit in the direction of his stiffened form and swallowed down a hefty laugh. “Not to mention that Lord Redwyne and Tarly already placed bets on the state of her maidenhead. Would be a shame to disappoint them both, don't you think?"

“What mother thinks is of no consequence. And the amusement of the Realm matters not to me. There will be no bedding ceremony.”

“Nonsense, Aemond. It is our duty to upkeep the Realm – and to entertain its inhabitants if need be.”

When his reckless teasing was met with glacial silence, Aegon sighed as he briskly leaned forward. He watched his sibling with an indiscernible expression across his scorched veneer, and yawned greatly at his indisposed behaviour.

“Of course, we’re here to talk it out. But after so much time spent in your company, I fail to see the necessity for such a thing.” A sly smirk danced across his puffy lips, “Are you concerned that she won’t bleed? Or that you’ll be too cunt-struck by her to last enough to make a statement?”

Aemond’s fists descended upon the polished wood of Aegon’d desk. He thrashed his brother with a defiant glare, and hissed through his gritted teeth, and tight-set jaw.

“There will be no bedding ceremony for my niece and I. Tell that to every Lord that wishes to glance upon my wife – if they do so much as to cast their hands on her, they’ll be fucking their own wives with a wooden cock.”

Amusement laced with grave concern – the finality of Aemond's words ought to have vexed him, irk the King in his sibling's weighty insolence. Instead Aegon nodded, pushing back the feeling of dread that settled deep within his bones. His head jerked towards his closed oak door, signalling to his brother that his visit had been overstated. “What sort of brother would I be, to not grant you with this simple whim?”

The younger Targaryen mirrored his stance, and turned abruptly on his heel after a low grunt of gratitude.

His hand reached for the golden handle, but Aegon's words deterred him to a halt.

“But be careful with that one, Aemond. She’s brash and wholly unpredictable. Make sure the blood that stains your sheets come morning isn’t somehow your very own.”

Perma Tag List: @welcometothelioncage @kravitzwhore ♡

1K notes · View notes

neet-elite · 3 months

Text

Without Shame — (SDV) Sebastian

Pairing: Stepbro!Sebastian / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 7,617 Warnings: Stepbro!Sebastian, pseudoincest, stepcest, cheating, dubcon, magic pocket pussy, mean Sebastian, name calling (dummy, little sister, baby sister), cunnilingus, accidental creampie, objectification, ruined orgasm, fingering Synopsis: More than anything he refers to you only as brat, because that’s what you are. An annoying, good for nothing, stupid little brat who needs to be put in her place. Particularly considering that you’ve never been told no before; maybe that’s why you bug him so often, because he’s not afraid to say what you hate most.

No, you can’t have that. No, that’s mine. No, I’m not staring at your ass.

A/N: Should I make this a series? I have several more thoughts that didn't make it into this fic... Let me know if you wanna read more! Anyway I had fun with this! I've wanted to do something like this piece for a while but was convinced everyone would hate it LOL... But my friends reassured me so thank you guys <3

Ever since he can recall, you’ve been a fucking brat. There’s no other way to put it quite so eloquently, he thinks. At least when it comes to interacting with him, which makes it all the more frustrating when you play innocent with others. Has him feeling insane when no one believes his claims that you’re evil, that he’d really rather be alone than stuck with you as a sibling, that everyone else is wrong when they call him the mean one. You play the role of innocent little sister well in public, and though part of him is genuinely impressed at your acting skills, he unfortunately knows the real you; and you’re so fucking annoying. Especially the way that you know exactly how to get away with your mistreatment of him, remaining undetected the moment a third party shows up so that he has to take the blame. Every. Single. Time.

Which is unfair, right? Unlike his usual sedentary lifestyle, the one constant that he can always count on in life is that you’ll surely be there to cause chaos for him. Whether that be from your ‘playful’ comments about his appearance, making fun of his lifestyle choices and hobbies, or the fact that you’re quite literally dating his best friend; it’s fair to say that you’ve always annoyed him. Siblings fight, sure, but he’s never called you anything close to sister in his life, and he doesn’t plan on it. He didn’t grow up with you so much as you just showed up one day to ruin his life, strutting around like you already owned the place with that dumb smirk he so often sees you wear, in spite of the fact that you moved into his home. More than anything he refers to you only as brat, because that’s what you are. An annoying, good for nothing, stupid little brat who needs to be put in her place. Particularly considering that you’ve never been told no before; maybe that’s why you bug him so often, because he’s not afraid to say what you hate most.

No, you can’t have that. No, that’s mine. No, I’m not staring at your ass.

What’s worse is that he can’t even hide how much you get to him, retaliating to your attacks with barks of his own every time, too afraid that if he doesn’t keep if with you that you’ll only bully him more. And it’s exhausting watching you prance around the house, usually in next to no clothing, teasing him at the dinner table with your nipples poking through your shirt—no bra again, despite his begs for you to wear one—until he eventually snaps at you to shut up; and then it’s him that gets punished for it!

Unfair is to word that suits you best. How you treat him, and how he feels about you. Because at the end of the day, he’s just a man. A man with a stupidly annoying hot step sister who provokes him day in and day out, teasing his perverted mind with just barely not enough; because you’re mean and you fucking know it.

Tonight, he decides to change that.

For all the pranks you’ve had him endure, he’s got his own devious plan up his sleeve. Been sitting on it for a few nights, a pure fantasy that even now he barely thinks is even possible, prepared for it to all be a scam, but fuck it. He has to try. Anything to wipe that stupid smile off your cute face, regardless of morals. And you only have yourself to blame, your dumb… Hot self. Fuck he hates you. Hates the way his cock twitches every time you enter his room, even if he knows you’re only there to upset him. Hates the way his heart hurts when you show him your recent selfies with Sam, how his tummy turns when you only give up on teasing him because Sam is calling you, a thick layer of bile always on the tip of his tongue waiting to put you down. It’s disgusting, the way he actually loves it.

He especially hates the cute little pout you wear when he does bites back, mimicking your words in a high pitched mocking tone just to hear you whine some more, standing tall above you only to talk down at you. God, it makes him so hard just thinking about your teary eyes when he takes it a step too far, commenting on that one thing he knows you’re actually insecure about and big fat tears travel down your chubby cheeks. So fucking hot making you sob for him, turning your otherwise pretty smile into an earnest scowl, like you hate him. It’s what you deserve for being such an annoying fucking brat. If he can’t have you be nice for him, he’ll take punishing you into tears happily. He doesn’t care too much either way, because you’re pretty when you cry too.

And it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilt for looking at you with a lecherous gaze, but rather that he simply doesn’t care. Knowing that it’s wrong and yet still he gives in to his perverted nature by stroking his cock to thoughts of you, of shutting you up by filling your throat, driven by the seed of shame taking root in his tummy to pet his erection under his desk every time you moan for him to stop teasing. It’s the only thing that helps, to balm the pangs of remorse when a smirk tugs at his lips every time you cry wolf.

Which brings him to the item in his hands, spurred on to get back at you after you recently attempted to go into deep detail about your oh so fun little date with Sam the other day. It’s bad enough that you went against his wishes and started dating Sam in the first place—he has some choice words for his best friend too—but you make things worse by indulging. Elaborating on what you love most about Sam, teasing intimate details that he’d rather not hear about; and acting oblivious to his glares. You know damn well how to rile him up just right, to get him on the edge of fighting back before retreating to the safety of your room, or worse, your father. No, he doesn't want to hear about how Sam took you home after your date last night, or about how rough his hands are on your plush thighs. It’s gross, because deep down he wishes it was him.

You should be thankful, really, that he’s going to such lengths to prank you. Only you would have him acting this desperate, squeezing the soft silicone toy in his shaking fists like a stress toy, his ass perched right on the edge of his computer chair as if it were the only barrier left before the point of no return. It was through the old man camping near his house that clued him in to the supposed wizard occupying the tower in Cindersap Forest, a claim that he initially passed off as a farce, but after your latest stunt of divulging disgusting details he decided it couldn’t hurt to ask for more information, just to amuse himself. A little fantasy of getting back at you, nothing more. Though, now that he’s got the supposed magical object in hand, he can’t help but bounce his leg off his old squeaky floor, giddy excitement resting heavy in his chest as he gives the rubber toy another squeeze, already panting at the thought of executing his plan. Fuckin’ brat, he smiles to himself. Only gettin’ what’s comin’ t’ya.

It’s the first time he’s getting a proper look at the toy too, unable to give it a second thought until right now thanks to you. Your petulant attitude when he arrived home only irked him, solidified his decision to defile you tonight even more so when you taunted him about leaving the house and how he never usually does and was he seeing a girl? A friend? Must have been really important if he left his room, right? God, even just thinking about your teasing voice causes his brows to furrow in frustration, tongue clicking at the mere memory of your pestering, gripping the girth of the toy in his hands as if it were your throat.

Selfish desire gets the better of him though, and for as much fun as it is pretending to choke you out, it’s getting late and his mom will be back with your dad soon. Which means he hasn’t got much time left to ruin you, so, he carefully holds the toy up to his face for inspection. What greets him is all pink and pretty, his throat immediately drying when he realises just how attractive it is. Then, quickly, upset crawls up to his tongue and hides behind his teeth when recalling how the wizard called it a replica, and knowing that your cunt is apparently this pretty for real angers him. Like, how dare you be withholding such a pretty pussy from your big brother, right? Shouldn’t he get first dibs on it, and not Sam. Suddenly, calling you sister sounds appealing to him, and he’s almost tempted to pull his pants down and shove his already throbbing erection into your little unprepared pretty pussy just to punish you for keeping this cunt out his reach. But he’s too busy instinctively pressing the pocket pussy against his face as close as he can get without actually touching it and huffing. Sniffing along your faux slit and immediately leaning back into his chair as your scent washes over him, overwhelming and clouding his judgement. Fuck, okay, maybe it really is linked to your cunt. And because he's not as mean as you like to portray him, he decides to indulge himself a little. Or, he's simply too selfish not to eat you out, eager to get a first taste of his little sister, to see if she's really worth all the hassle.

And he’s so close too, God; about as close to actually fucking you as he can get right now that he’s honestly a bit dizzy, jutting his hips forward so his bulge can roll against the air in a mimicked action of sex. It’s instinctual, convincing his quickly emptying mind that this must mean that it’s right, that your cunt belongs to your mean big brother, his breath fanning across the faux lips in rushed bursts of barely there restraint. He wonders if you can feel him already, wearing a cute confused pout at the cooling feeling between your legs; fuck, he can unfortunately imagine it perfectly, his free hand coming down to pet at his pulsing cock with light touch, just barely there to tease him like he’s teasing you. Because this is better than he ever thought it’d be, having all the benefit of your hole right in front of him without needing to put up with... Well, you, and he’s afraid that if he gives in to his more baser instincts too soon; he’ll cum before he gets to have his fun.

Inhaling your scent some more causes his eyes to roll to the back of his skull, imagining how quiet you must be in your room all alone; even there you usually talk too much, way too fucking loud and annoying. Is his sniffing shutting you up? Cock dripping precum already at the image of you shooting upright in bed, forgetting all about what you were previously doing because something is happening to your body, left completely unaware that your mean older brother has his face practically buried between your legs right now. That’d for sure leave you gasping, right? Make you all squirmy and cute, soft and pliable for once in your fucking life.

And thanks to his depraved mind, his tongue automatically pokes out at the thought of you listening to him for once, kitten licking at the fake slit while he holds his breath. A natural action, one that he isn’t immediately aware he’s doing before he can feel soft skin against his teeth. His mind is slow to catch up to whats happening, too distracted by the palm circling his perverted bulge into submission, but when he realises that his lips are in contact with the pocket pussy, he rolls his tongue up to the swell of it, sighing against the slit in satisfaction over how you taste so perfect. The more he teases his tongue between your folds the wetter he finds the fake cunt getting, and noticing that the magic imbued in the object is real causes his hips to jerk up into his open palm, rolling together in tandem with how he licks your cunt.

A soft curse escapes him when a gush of slick reaches his taste buds, immediately swallowing your liquid down like a dog. One hand holding the pocket pussy to his lips, the other tugging at his leaking cock. “Big brother making you feel good?” He whispers against it, only proving to rile himself up further at the verbal admission of touching his little sister so inappropriately. And he's so soft and tender with his tongue too, a momentary lapse in judgement, forgetting all about your brattiness the moment his lips grazed your puffy cunt, hypnotised by the taste and smell of your tiny hole into providing kindness to you. Pussydrunk. It causes his cock to flex under his touch, dribbling saliva onto the toy to make his tongue glide easier between your lips. “Dummy…” He sighs into you, giving your cunt a trail of kisses from top to bottom, and then back up again, letting his tongue poke out between kisses as if he were making out with your cunt more than anything. Really making out with it, sloppy sounds included with how eagerly he smacks his lips against you, the accumulation of saliva sticking to his chin as he presses kiss after lick at your hole. He shifts around on his chair, sliding down it just a little more to get comfortable and pushing it out away from his desk, his legs automatically opening while he slobbers all over the faux cunt, pretending that you’re riding his face right now because fuck that’s so fucking hot, yeah? Need big brother to eat you out and make your cunt feel all better? “Gettin’ all wet an’ slick for big brother? Preparin’ for his cock?” he continues talking to himself, voice hushed and mocking before diving back in to kiss the toy, easily believing that you’re in the room with him from the way your slick dribbles down his throat. Linked to you in your room, fuuuck he wants to see your face so bad. Wants to hear your little hushed gasps and moans, clinging on to him for assistance without realising that it’s him that’s making you feel all funny. You just need big bro to take care of you, right? Need big bro to help make you feel all better, to work out why you feel all funny down there, yeah? There’s no need to be with Sam baby, big brother is just downstairs and more than willing to help your wet little cunt out.

A rough cough crawls up his throat as he pulls away for some air, a string of saliva keeping his tongue connected to your hole. It doesn’t last very long though because he’s diving right back in before he even fills his lungs, gripping at his cock and shaking it a few times before attempting to jerk himself off, but his jeans are too tight and he’s too drunk on your cunt to pull his pants down. Too busy with flattening his tongue against your wet little slit, slurping and groaning against your cunt while he gets off to just your taste, fuck, can practically smell how much you need him by now, pressing sloppy kisses against your puffy little clit and tonguing at it desperately, humming with his kisses so that you can feel how much he appreciates your compliance: even if it’s robbed. “Pretty princess cunt,” He rasps to himself, dipping his tongue all the way down to your hole so that he can absentmindedly mouth at it, slipping inside with such ease as more slick gushes on his lips, making his fist tighten unfairly on his erection. He’s downright desperate. “Baby sister cunt—” He huffs roughly, tugging his cock only twice more before frustration overwhelms him and he’s reminded of your bratty attitude, placing the pocket pussy on the edge of his desk for you to drip slick onto his floor while his hands busy themselves with removing his pants and underwear as quickly as possible, only managing to get them over his knees before he settles back into his chair again, pocket pussy carelessly gripped and hovering dangerously close over his now exposed pulsing cock. He’s absolutely trembling, shaking with excitement while the faux cunt dribbles slick onto his already wet with precum cock, coating it in all your baby sister cream like a good girl for once. While he could eat you out literally all day if he wanted to, face stuffed between your thighs for him to huff and kiss at mindlessly, insisting on continuing when you inevitably dig your nails into his hair and try to yank him off; his cock cries for attention. Twitches as fat globs of precum roll down to his balls, veins popping with impulsive need. He briefly wonders if Sam has ever gotten you this wet before, to the point of gushing over his cock before even entering. Does big brothers tongue feel that good, baby?

Small haah’s are all he can let out as he squeezes the rubber toy in his fist, his other hand clenching tightly around the base of his perverted cock to angle it towards your sopping hole, staring at how your slick that leaks down to his tip shimmers in the seedy lighting of his room, where it connects to his own fat beads of precum that spill for you. So close, he pants to himself. Wanna fuck you so bad, he almost whines, for so long. Stuck between ramming big brothers cock into your tiny little hole already, or to savour the moment for how monumental it feels. Sure, it’s not the real deal, but it’s close enough; even more depraved if he really thinks about it. Fucking you in secret, leaving you a mess all alone in your room; able to feel his girth but left unknowing as to why: he can’t fucking wait to bully you back some, make you feel how fat his cock is as punishment for tormenting him all this time.

And that’s all it takes, the promise of revenge. The torturous drip of your cunt onto his cock convincing him to enter, inviting him, even, his fist lifting only to smear the combination of his pre and your slick over his hot and heavy length (as if it needed extra coating). He wets his lips in focus, lowering the pocket pussy closer to his red hot tip before some more pre spills for you, and as if that wasn't enough, he leans over himself to spit on his cock for extra lubrication. Don’t say he’s never kind to you, all right? “S’all your fault.” He chokes out, lowering the toy until the faux lips come into contact with his tip, automatically causing his hips to buck up into the soft feeling in search of more; but he forces himself to resist. Wait, he tells himself, nonchalantly stroking the pocket pussy lips up and down his cock instead of entering, staining himself completely with your slick. Feels so good, fuck, even just rubbing one out on you like this, pushing the fat of his cock between the fake lips to really hump at, y’know? Even lets his hip thrust upwards, causing him to fuck himself off his chair a little with how eager he’s pretending to hump his little sister, to properly punish you—or so he tells himself, but deep down he understands it’s more like he just wants to wet his cock, remind you of who you really belong to—because it’s what you fucking deserve.

You deserve to feel the entirety of his greedy cock slipping and sliding between your folds, you deserve to feel the guilt and shame he’s desperately humping upon you for getting so wet due to big brothers cock. He’s entitled to this, he thinks. Putting up with you all these years, he takes his frustrations out by repeatedly knocking the tip of his cock against the faux clit of the pocket pussy to hopefully have you sobbing in your sheets, squirming under the phantom feeling of his cock bullying your upsettingly perfect little cunt. By the thick squelch that soon fills his room with every pass of his girth up and down the toy, he knows you must be enjoying his disgusting treatment. Gross, he smiles to himself.

Busy humping himself silly against your fake cunt, he doesn’t fully register how close he is to slipping inside until it eventually happens. One minute he’s blissfully content rubbing one out against your slit, and the next he’s folding in on himself in a full body silent gasp, cock head fully engulfed in your tight little hole and knocking the wind out of him. Karma, he supposes, and then immediately forgets about as he feels your cunt squeeze around his intrusion for the first time ever; and you manage to effectively shut him up, no talking back or standing up to your teasing for once. Until you do it again, even if involuntary. “Shit— fuck.” He groans, a rough sound crawled up from the pit of his tummy, drawn out from how nice and wet the toy in his hands is, thanks to you. His weight shifts in his old computer chair, squeaking like it always does when he jerks off to the screen, only now it’s due to the immense strain he has to endure not to immediately bury himself balls deep in your cunt. You squeeze around him again as if asking for it and it hits him all at once, forced to realise with such sudden and alarming clarity that he was very much fucked. Ruined, truthfully. The sinful suck of your linked cunt promising to spoil every other hole he potentially fucks in future, leaking little sister cream all over his twitching cock to entice him deeper, to fall further into your messy cunt depravity.

And really, it’s not bullying if you like it. He’s not being mean by rolling his hips into you slowly, forcing you to savour every thick inch he’s got to offer as he enters you, tiny little humps upwards rather than forcing the toy down his cock to simulate sex better. You like it, don’t you? Dribbling all over his cock, bet you’re writhing in your sheets right now for him; because you must be just as slutty as him to be enjoying this. And it’s embarrassing just how much he likes it, how he already knows he’ll never be able to leave the pocket pussy alone, biting his lip raw to try and stifle his moans, squeezing one eye shut as if he was pained to be feeling so good, and he feels forced to swallow a bark creeping to his tongue at how annoyed he is. It’s unfair that you feel so good wrapped around him like this, half his cock buried in the toy, coating his length in even more slick to make the glide inside easier. And he thinks to himself that if you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t be this fucking slippery, his head thrown back at the soft squelch his cock fucks out of you. “That’s it, fuck— what a good sister…” He ends up praising you despite his frustrations, unable to hide his genuine feelings for you in the secrecy of his own room, squeezing the pocket pussy even tighter around his greedy cock as he pushes up, up, and up until finally the faux lips rest against his pelvis and he can finally breathe again.

More than anything he wants to fist your hair and mess up your pretty styling, force his lips onto your own so that you can taste just how much he wants you; how downright desperate he is to claim you as his own. You’re his little sister, so you belong to him, right? Should be creaming on his cock and not anyone elses, cunt twitching around his fat girth as he grinds his hips into the toy, little circles to tease and taunt, bully you back into place for your petulant attitude he’s had to deal with his whole life. Payback, he muses, panting at the way your fake cunt accepts him so easily, willingly wrapping around him so snugly; like you were made to take his cock. Just barely inside and you’ve already got him pulsing, balls taut at the way he so easily falls into you, how he’s sure he could cum right now just by circling his cock inside of you, stirring your insides up to prepare you for what inevitably comes next. Annoying, because he went into this perverted prank hoping to just upset you, to make you sob and whine on his cock like a good girl for once, and yet here he is struggling to regulate his breathing, fighting with himself to keep his hips from humping.

But fuuuuck you feel so good, nice and tight and eager, constantly twitching and squirming on his cock to coax more precum out to stain your insides with, sucking his tip in so well as if asking for more, begging big brother to fuck you. And he’s watched enough hentai to know that he’s not immune to the little sister allure, despite his intentions to simply fuck with you; he has to show you that he’s the one in charge here, right? Regardless of his flimsy excuse, he does so instinctively, a flash of regret buried deep in his mind that’s easily clouded over by the sudden swallow of your cunt as he withdraw his hips, leaving only his tip inside to tease you with. More slick gushes out of the toy, trickling down to his balls and onto his chair, a tut escaping him despite being alone. “You’re such a fucking tease, y’know that?” He slurs, words caught in his throat and forced out of him as he drops the toy on his cock, shivering into the dirty action before repeating it again. And again. And again, until his fist wraps neatly around the toy enough to control the speed and he starts jerking off with your cunt.

Greedy gulps of air is all that’s heard in his room, besides the odd squeak and dribble of saliva, a few drops pooling on his tummy as he revels in the act of taking his perfect princess little sister in private. At least he tries to keep quiet, but it’s hard to keep his voice down when your walls squeeze him tighter, prompting him to suckle on his hoodie sleeve and pretend it was your nipple instead, lacing his tongue over the rough fabric as a means to distract himself from falling in love with your cunt. Is this how Sam feels when inside of you? Do you get this slippery for your boyfriend too, or is it because deep down you know big brother is fucking you properly.

God he feels dizzy, so turned on at the thought of not only defiling you, but of doing it in a way where you’re left uninformed. He wishes he could see your confused tear stained face, wants to watch you shake and cry for help while he bullies his cock into you, leaking all over the toy with every fuck of his hips upwards, matching the downward tug of his hands. And it’s even more fucked up that he’s treating you like the toy you are right now, literally jerking himself off as his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek, furrowing his brows to gain greater focus, leaning back against his chair so that he can hump into the faux hole at abetter angle. “So good—” He babbles to himself, fluttering his lashes at the way the toy slams back down on his balls, the corners of his mouth wet with drool from the sound of your cunt making room for his corrupt cock. “Knew you’d feel s—so good—” The immorality of his actions only turns him on more, his legs coming out to straighten while his back arches against his chair, fucking into the toy with needy desperation, a tut on his tongue at how perfect you are for him. He hates how good it feels, wants to fuck his frustrations out on you, slamming the toy down as much as he fucks into it so you can really feel just how much you truly upset him. If it feels this good with a toy, he can’t imagine how ruined he’s gonna be when it comes to the real thing—because of course he’s gonna fuck you for real, are you kidding? God, you feel too fucking good it’s unfair, should be illegal—letting him masturbate inside of you like this; his infatuation for you deepens, and the closer he gets the less liable he is to hold on to his grievances.

“Stupid girl—” He mumbles, a line of drool spilling from his lips too. In the privacy of his basement room, he allows himself a moment to indulge. “If— fuck, oh my God— if only you— If—” He tries. God, he tries to get his words out, clamping both hands around the slippery wet toy and leaning forward to rest his head on his desk, standing up off his chair—too hopeless to remain seated—so that he can drag the toy on and off his cock with more ease. Faster, too, his hips try to keep up with his quick fists but they’re no match, he’s spent way too many lonely night pumping his cock raw to give his hips a chance. Slick drips from the pocket pussy, his feet planted firmly on the ground to give him better grip to fuck you with, and the floorboards squeak with the weight of his thrusts. But he doesn’t slow down, can’t, really. Unable to give even himself a breather from the disgusting situation, frantically fucking the toy in his fists like his life depended on it, his previous plans of getting back at you forgotten about in favour of simply getting off, uncaring for how you must be so scared right now because you’re making him feel so good: and that’s all that matters. He's so selfish, focusing only on his own pleasure as he splits you in two in the palm of his hands, baby must be stretching so well to fit him all in.

“If only you were— were this good all the time.” He finishes his thought and half laughs, but it soon turns into a low moan when the toy clenches around him, shaking and shivering down his mean big brother cock for him to enjoy. “It’s like y’were made for this—” He continues to babble, huffing against his desk while his thighs shake with you, his tummy tight with lust when he imagines that you might already be close from his harassment, like you were in the room with him. And he almost wants to let you cum, only because he’s too selfish to pass up the opportunity of feeling you convulse on his cock. But he’s so close too, and he smiles with an offer you’ve got no way of reciprocating. “Wanna see who cums first?”

You have been such a good girl for him tonight, haven’t you? Allowed him to inflict such lewd acts on you, and not only that, but you’ve accepted his brutish abuse so nicely. Never mind the fact that you quite literally couldn’t fight back, he’s far too pussy drunk and buried too deep in the faux cunt to rationalise with himself, mind empty beyond the need to breed his favourite new toy the way she deserves, snapping his hips into your hole with sloppy precision; he can’t seem to get the right angle, nor can he keep a consistent speed, rendered dumb thanks to the tight squeeze your cunt offers him. “Does it feel good?” He sighs, riling himself up as an orgasm creeps up on him, humouring his fantasies while he’s ball deep inside of you because: why not at this point? “Does big brothers cock feel sooo good?” He continues, adopting a babying tone as if you were actually under him right now, nails digging into the split wood of his desk as if it were your hair, or your shoulder, doesn’t matter; he just wants to keep you in place. “Gonna cum for big brother? Make him feel so good too?” He pants, an unavoidable coil tightening in his core as heat flushes to his cheeks, voice barely above a whisper while he fucks himself off. He can only imagine what he must look like right now, bent over his desk and huffing, head pressed against his forearm to hide his face into his desk, pants barely half on or half off, dangling by his knees while his hips swing in the air. And then, he tries to imagine you. How cute you’d look right now as he fucks into you with such speed he has to step back a few times to re-position, balls slapping against the magic toy with a resounding plap!, sticky sweet slick keeping him connected to you with a soft squish. He only stands up more so that he can continue his delusions, looking down to where his cock meets you cunt and how a ring of cream rests at the base, a sheen coating the rest of his length for him to gawk at.

A mistake, truthfully, but he isn’t complaining too much when he instantly shoots a load inside of the toy, shoving his cock as deep as possible into the tiny hole stretched to fit him so he can properly sow his seed, stake his claim all over your insides with thick white ropes. Mark you as: Big Brother’s. It doesn’t so much as catch him by surprise as it becomes immediately expected, face all scrunched up in rotten pleasure for the accidental creampie, a strangled sis caught in his throat before moans tumble, followed by breathy laughter and sighs. He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips forward, riding his orgasm out by riding you, inadvertently fucking his cum deeper into the toy and keeping it there, lazily tugging the toy up and down his still hard cock until he’s sure he’s made you’ve milked every last drop he has for you.

He only realises that he’s neglected to let you cum as he’s pulling out, slowly removing his cock from the toy with a wince, watching with genuine interest as drops of seed dribble out and over his spent cock. Serves you right for dating Sam when big brother has been right here this whole time, waiting to have you submit to his cock. He laughs, a sinister smirk with knowing that you must be so frustrated to be left high and dry like that, to no longer even appreciate the feeling of fullness as he twists the toy in his hand so that he can assess the damage, gently pulling the folds apart so he can watch more of his cum seep out. A deep urge to eat you clean rises to his tongue when he inspects your hole, but he bites it back, tells himself that there’s more satisfaction in leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions than to reinforce your bad behaviour behind a tongue flat against your slit. That, and he’d hate to reward you and have you know that you’ve given him the best orgasm of his life; and you didn’t even have to do anything but lay there! He’s treated you well enough, he decides, dropping the toy on his desk for him to gape at lovingly.

He sits there for a few seconds, awaiting the wash of clarity over his system to come, but when it doesn’t he simply smiles. “Fuck.” He finally sighs, and it’s a confession of sorts. Of what he doesn’t have much time to figure out, seeing as his phone soon vibrates next to him, a flash of a notification on the screen. It takes him a moment to get to it, because he’s too busy admiring how messy he’s made your pretty princess parts, smearing big brothers cum all over the slit with his thumb just because he can. But he gives in to curiosity once he’s satisfied with painting, unlocking his phone only to be greeted by your name, or the one he’s so fondly given you.

Brat: Can you come help me sebby?

A loud bark of laughter rises in his chest, throwing his head back in the gratification you’ve so kindly offered him. You can handle a little more teasing, right? It’s only fair, seeing as this is the first time he’s fully bitten back at you.

Sebastian: No, I’m busy.

And it’s not even a lie, his thumb gliding easily over the faux clit to ruin you some more, a punishment for distracting him from his afterglow. He almost gets to forget about you before you draw his attention again, another vibration from his phone that reads:

Brat: It’s serious, please!

Sebastian: … Where are you?

It’s a stupid question, he knows, but he wants to make you really suffer. It’s not often you need his help, and he’d be a liar if he said it doesn’t feel nice to be relied on by you like this. All you need is him, right? Need big brother to come make you feel all better, yeah? Or maybe that’s just his cock talking, jerking at the thought of you relying on him for more, needing him to help finish you off because you’re too fucked dumb on big brothers cock to function. He’s got half a mind to walk up to your room and fuck you for real, help you finish that way. Would you try to kick him off with his cock womb deep, tears streaming down your pretty face, or would you sob from pleasure, begging big brother for more, because you’re so close and you’d take anything at this point?

Brat: My room, please hurry.!

Definitely more his cock, twitching back to life with the promise of being allowed entry into your sacred room, your hiding place. He locks his phone and throws it to his bed, tucking his stained cock back into his pants and pulling his skinny jeans back up, neglecting to zip in his rush to be at your side; thankful. You should be thankful he’s even giving you the time of day, seeing as you’ve already exhausted your usefulness to him for tonight. Cock spent and hole used, what more could you give him? Regardless, he’s more curious than he is spiteful right now. Wants to see what you look like after taking his cock, and if it matches his thoughts. Without much more convincing, he tucks the toy into his hoodie pocket, confident that you’ll somehow find the evidence of his crime if he doesn’t stash it close to him at all times. He can easily clean his hoodie of cum later, but he can’t face the ramifications of mistreating you in such a deplorable fashion; not now, not ever. His little secret, yeah?

But his chest tightens as he runs up the stairs, breath caught in his throat as he stands outside your room and knocks. Anxious? He can’t figure out what for. This is everything he’s been wanting and more, and when you usher him inside with a panicked voice, he thinks he might have taken things a bit too far; protectiveness surging past his lungs and heart, rising up in a breathy “What’s wrong?” as if he doesn’t know damn well why you sound so confused right now. But that big brother attitude doesn’t last for long, ignored the minute his eyes find yours, taking in the sight of you clutching at your sheets as if you were in pain, legs crossed and covered, like you’re hiding from him. And oh it feels good to be preying on you like this, he has to fight the urge to smile at the pathetic pose you take for him, all pliant and submissive and seeking his help. He doesn't miss the way your nipples poke through your little shirt, or how you sweat from head to toe; working out? And his imagination didn’t do you any justice, seeing you cower in front of him like this as your legs rub together is a wet dream come true. He’s definitely hard again, keeping both hands in his pocket and pushing it down to hopefully hide his embarrassment from your eyes as you shiver before him. He watches as you automatically reach out for him, your mouth opening as if you were going to say something and—

“I— Ah!”

Instinctively, his fingers dip into the toy the moment you try to communicate with him, surprising even him when you gasp at the slender prodding against your insides. If you say anything resembling coherent he doesn't hear it, zoning out as he zeros in on your tits, mouth watering at the sight alone. He wants to suck on them, curling his finger inside of you in response to your unknown teasing, a declaration of want to own every part of you. At least now he knows that the toy is actually magic, unquestionably linked to your sopping wet cunt with how you’re currently reacting to his touch. The way you shake as his finger pad circles your entrance, gliding with the amount of cum leaking from it—and by extension dirtying your bed sheets at this very moment—and how you bite your lip so cutely when he lets its dip further into the hole again, staring directly at you with concentration to commit every detail of you to memory for tonight, almost moaning at the sight of you squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his dumb gaze, how pretty you look with your brows all furrowed and hand hiding your cute little sounds.

All you’ve done is convinced him that he needs to fuck you for real, and soon. Twisting the single finger buried knuckle deep in the toy around, exploring your pretty little cunt with precision. Like he already knows all your sweet spots given the reactions you’re offering him; or maybe that’s because he’s already fucked you close to completion already, fingering you to the cusp again as he stands awkwardly hiding his hard on in your room.

“What— Uh, what’s wrong?” He clears his throat, but still his voice is dry and needy, a hidden deep want for you lacing the words as you squirm and sob on your sheets. For him. It’s a bit weird that he’s waited so long to ask you, he thinks, but you also seem to be a bit too distracted to notice as he introduces a second finger to the puffy toy in his pocket, pushing in instantly and easily from the fluids leaking from your hole, leaving you unable to talk once more. “Are you okay?” He gasps, knows that you aren’t, fuck, look at you; but he has to ask to keep up his facade. Wants to pretend he doesn’t know why you’re struggle to do anything other than babble before him as a means to bully you some more. It’s your fault, maybe if you weren’t so fucking cute when crying then he’d move on, but your tear stained cheeks coax him to continue, scissoring his long fingers inside your hole with eagerness, like doing so would make you feel better.

And it would, and he wants to see it, but the second he begins to slowly pump his scissoring in and out of your greedy cunt you urge him to leave. A high pitched whine of go away! While you bury your face in the sheets, folding in on yourself—fucking pretty, by the way—as he assumes you’re right on the edge is enough for him. Your hidden face providing him the space to smile down at you, but it’s loving. Adoration, even. Can’t quite believe just how pretty you are when you’re rendered useless on his hand like this, and he promises himself as he turns to leave to have you act so sweetly with him the next time you try to annoy him. This is the little sister he’s always wanted, and if you play nice for him, he’ll even call you as such to your face.

“Okay.” He simply leaves you with, all breathy and empty as he exits your room, slamming the door shut only because he’s in a rush to rest his back against the same door to pull his cock out, still fingering your pretty pussy in his pocket and listening out for your cute moans to soon fill your room. Another round wouldn’t hurt, especially when you start to whimper his name so prettily like that, right?

#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sebastian smut #also trying a new way of styling these posts!#think its cute #I FORGOT TO ADD THE TITLE HEHE

272 notes · View notes

aka-indulgence · 4 months

Text

Got a oneshot! Have a fic where Sans rejects your romantic pursuits with a happy twist ;)

CW: Flashback section containing Sans’ ex, where he wasn’t having a good time

(Sans & Gender Neutral Reader)

Sans doesn’t know what he thinks about the whole romance thing after a disastrous start. What happens when a precious friend confesses?

——————

It wasn’t entirely unexpected.

Sans didn’t think much of it when you came that day. Sans would often usually invite you over anyway, though today you were first to ask him if you could visit. Which was fine- he’s never as comfortable with anyone else as much as he was comfortable with you. (Maybe Papyrus, but even then there were things Sans wouldn’t tell his brother because he didn’t want to burden him with problems that Sans would rather burden himself with.)

You were laughing. He always loved it when you laughed.

“so i told him: paper-thin skin? buddy. pal. i ain’t got skin.”

You were in an uproar, slapping your knee. “Oh my god! I’d give the world to see the look on his face,”

“oh yeah. definitely unforgettable. man got so red faced he looked like he was gonna burst. he then stomped out like an angry toddler.”

You were giggling, before the both of you fell into a silence. That was a normal part of conversations, Sans was used to it. Especially with you, the silence was never unwelcome. But this time… something felt different. The air has shifted. Your carefree expression had changed into something more contemplative. He wasn’t sure what it was, then. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to read too deep into it.

You spoke up.

“... Hey Sans? Can I tell you something?”

Why was he nervous?

“... yeah?”

“It’s… um. Give me a second…” you laughed nervously. “Haha, sorry, I feel a little sick.”

Sans’ brows furrowed. “what’s up? you ok..?”

You huffed. “Ok. Yeah. Sorry for ruining the moment? But uh… it’s been on my mind for a while, and I have to tell you. I hope you’re ok with me saying this but. I like you, Sans. Kind of… a lot?”

… Ringing. Sans hears ringing. It feels like something in his soul crashed.

“... Sans?”

Sans wasn’t there. His mind was somewhere else.

“i just… i just don’t know if i like you in that way…”

Her face broke into despair. She wouldn’t look his way. She didn’t even say a word to him.

“w… wait. why are you… where are you going?”

“I can’t be here.”

It was years ago. Monsters had lived on the surface for about a year. She was one of Papyrus’ friends, and their first meeting had been wonderful. It still leaves an ache in his chest when he thinks about it now, how hopeful he was when he met her. She was fun, always got Sans involved in social events, always found her way towards him when he was sitting on the sidelines while Papyrus took the stage.

“hey i wouldn’t recommend the punch.”

“Why not?”

“y’see, i like funny things. and that thing… it ain’t got a punchline.”

“... Are you seriously punning?”

“i think i’m being funny.”

“Hah, that’s so stupid,”

She was laughing. But when Sans thinks about it now, maybe it was a pitying one. Sans wasn’t one to judge, puns didn’t win everyone over.

She quickly became a regular in his life, the first human friend he’s made since the surface, one that seemed more interested in him than his brother. She would even pout and joke when Sans didn’t give her enough attention which was cute, at the time. It was easy introducing her to his friends, with how often she tagged along with him.

She would put her arm over his shoulders, hug him, get so close to kissing but miss… Sans never initiated, but only because he wasn’t much of a physical person to begin with. It was nice to have someone so affectionate with him.

He really liked having her in his life.

And then… came that fateful day.

“I was going to wait for you. But you never asked me out.”

“what do you mean…?”

“I know you’re smart, Sans. I’ve been obvious. I just don’t know if you even like me.”

He didn’t know where this had come from. He was suddenly put on the spot, struggling to give her an answer, an answer that he knew she wanted. But Sans was lost.

“i just… i just don’t know if i like you in that way…”

“...”

She was stoic. She was upset with him, she left him alone in his room after he brought out the games he was hoping to play together. Had he made a mistake…? Was he really that dense? Was he just terrible with commitment?

She… she deserved better.

So he decided to fix it. At least, he thought he was fixing it. Though it turned to be a decision Sans would regret soon after.

He showed up at her door the next night. She hadn’t responded to his texts, his calls. Not even Papyrus’. He felt guilty, like he ruined something perfectly good.

i can’t lose her.

Sans was starting to panic if she maybe had left- then the door opened. Sans soul shook when he saw how her face fell when she saw his face. She was going to retreat back into her room.

“w-wait! please listen to me,” His hand was at the door. “i… i made a mistake. you’re important to me, ok? and i think i want… to be with you.”

His soul sung when she finally looked him in the eyes. There were tears in hers, but she was smiling, and he was happy to have her hugging him again. The tension snapping was a relief. That he saved himself. But even then he wondered… why did it taste bitter to say those last few words?

It… didn’t last long. More and more of Sans’ time was taken up by her, which… should be a good thing. Couples should spend lots of time together, right? But he didn’t have time for his friends anymore. Everytime she went out, he needed to come with.

“Sans, you smell like ketchup.”

“oh… yeah, i put too much on my hotdog.”

“Come on, you need to eat something better. People keep telling me you smell like grease.”

“... really?”

“Yeah. Here, I got you new clothes. Crisp!”

“oh… thanks.”

“Get ready, I’m planning to go at six.”

He was becoming active. He was going out every day, he wasn’t locking himself in his room.

It was for the better, he told himself. She brought out the life in him.

… Sans always thought he was intuitive. He was the best at reading people. He’s the judge. It came to him like breathing.

But apparently, he had been blinded. He had a hard time trusting himself. That maybe his gut feeling was wrong.

“SANS…”

Papyrus had found him alone during a party, having escaped to the bathroom. His sockets had bags under them. His face was dripping with water. He just… needed to rest. Without anyone else around.

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“yeah… i am. just needed to freshen up is all.”

Papyrus looked so… sad. He hadn’t seen his brother frown so deeply, in a way that made Sans feel guilty.

“SANS. I KNOW YOU FEEL LIKE YOU NEED TO PROTECT ME FROM YOUR FEELINGS EVEN THOUGH I DON’T NEED YOU TO DO THAT BUT… YOU HAVEN’T LIED SINCE WE SURFACED, AND NOW IT’S BACK. AND I THINK… YOU MIGHT BE LYING TO YOURSELF AS WELL. BROTHER… WHAT’S THE MATTER?”

Sans was getting sloppy. He looked away from him, to the mirror- he couldn’t handle that sorrowful look on Papyrus’ face. All that did though, was force him to confront his own expression. His signature smile wasn’t even there. And Sans couldn’t muster the energy to bring it back.

“I DON’T WANT TO PRY, IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE, BUT… Could This Have Something To Do With Her?”

Sans should’ve said no. Denied it. Told Paps that everything was fine and he was just… just overwhelmed. But he didn’t.

“i… maybe. i…” He exhaled through his phalanges, staring at the bottom of the sink. “i don’t know if i love her, pap. at least… romantically. i’m… i’m trying paps, i’m trying, i should- she deserves to have someone love her. i want to love her.”

Papyrus finishes his thought for him.

“BUT YOU DON’T.”

“... no.”

Sans felt horrible. He felt like he was leading her on. But Sans really thought that he loved her. He did! He cared for her!

… But not in the way she wanted.

And Sans didn’t want to pretend anymore.

“What did it? Did… did you find another person??”

“no. it’s nothing like that.”

“Then what changed?!”

She was shouting. Sans didn’t like the shouting. She never took kindly to him giving anyone- anything else attention. Sans tried to fix it, at first. He thought he was the problem until he got the messages asking him where he was, why he was so absent.

“nothing has, it was just a lot of little things. i’m sorry. i don’t love you in that way.”

“... How could you say something so horrible!?”

It was a good thing they hadn’t moved in together. She had insisted on moving, and that was one thing Sans could put his foot down about. He has a couple of old shirts and pants at her place from the nights he’s stayed, but nothing he’ll miss much. Lots of them were clothes she approved. It smelled like perfume. Even when he thought he was in love with her he thought moving together then was too fast.

She blocked him. Cut him out. Told her friends how Sans didn’t try hard enough when she put in the effort. Sans was never a crier- but he was in tears, hiding in his room. He would talk about it with Papyrus, but right then, he didn’t want anyone to hear. He wanted to throw his phone, he wanted to scream at her. He loved her! Maybe- maybe he never wanted to date her, maybe, if they hadn’t they’d still be friends but she always just… took too much.

It was nice when Papyrus chose to cut her off, to show support for him. It was ironic, even though Sans was the one she always chased, she always seemed to be on good terms with Papyrus. Even would ask him to put in a word for her after their arguments.

Sans was fine now. No- more than fine. Sans was happy. His time with her being a mere bump during his time on the surface.

Then, not too long after, he met you.

He never realized what was missing until he met you. You gave him space, and you never asked him to change for you. You… you liked who he was, you liked Sans.

After her Sans was afraid to attach so fast but… he really, really wanted to keep you in his life. He might even like you, more than a friend would. But he wasn’t ready to start another storm in his life.

As he looked into your eyes, he felt his soul sink. He wasn’t ready for it to end.

“... i… i’m sorry,” Why was the air so hot? “i… i… hhh,”

“Huh?”

It was a little hard to breathe. Which should be impossible. He’s a skeleton… air… air literally moves through his ribcage. He isn’t… uh… what’s happening?

You were frowning. Oh no. Were you upset?

“S-Sans? Are you ok?”

Sans was gripping the couch too tightly, phalanges digging into the couch cushions, close to ripping them. Beads of sweat were rolling down his skull. He suddenly felt pathetic… panicking over you.

“Sans?”

His eyelights darted back to you, bringing him back to the present. You looked so confused… he felt so guilty.

no… i can’t do it again.

“i… sorry. i don’t… mean to panic in front of you but… are you upset?”

“About what? I’m… Sans, you’re not making a lot of sense.”

He presses a hand to his face, then takes a deep breath. His mind was in a frizzle and he had to explain to you now before he goes crazy.

“sorry, my mind is a mess right now. i… i don’t want to make you sad. but i don’t know if i’m ready for a relationship right now. and it isn’t you, it’s… it’s me. i don’t want to take away your hope or anything but… i don’t know if i’ll ever be ready for a romantic relationship.”

You blinked at him.

“Oh,”

Sans tensed. Expecting you to explode, or cry, or yell at him, run out the house, hate him, oh god he ruined everything-

“Sans, that’s… ok?”

“...”

what?

“w… what do you mean?”

You’re confused. Sans was too. You shift your eyes left and right.

“I mean… that’s ok. I just didn’t want to make you upset is all, and w… why are you looking at me like that?”

Was he dreaming? His eyelight flashed yellow, as if he could find something. He scanned your face, your eyes, your nose- looking for a shudder, a twitch, even a pulse out of place.

Your face was neutral. Was it just hard to read you?

“you know, you can tell me if you’re upset.” Sans was telling the truth. “i can take it. i’d rather you tell me straight to my face if you are. i… i don’t want to lose you.”

You look startled at his sudden pleading, before giving him a pitiful smile. You put your hands on his shoulders.

“Sans? Can you look at me?” You asked in a soft voice.

It was difficult to look up. He knows you, you’re not the type to yell at him or to curse him for little things. He’d trust his judgment but he’s been mistaken before. Nonetheless, slowly, he tilts his skull up to you. When he does, he sees the determination in your eyes, a fierce yet gentle look.

“Sans. Believe me, I’m ok. You’re not going to lose me if you tell me no. Ok?”

“m… mhm,”

Your serious expression melts a little when you start snickering. “Sans, I… I didn’t even get to finish my sentence. I was about to tell you that I’ll understand if you don’t wanna do a whole romance with me, I’ll be fine! I think it’d be great, and I stand by saying I like you a lot. But, I also like where we are right now, and staying like this is pretty nice too. Just being with you is fun, and whether you’re my friend or my boyfriend, that’s not going to change. So… if you’re ok with staying friends after my confession, I think I’d like that.”

The static of panic started to fade away, and a feeling of calm washed over him. The relief was so potent that Sans could feel his sockets start to sting.

h… heh… i was worrying for nothing.

“yes. god, i’d like that too,” Sans wobbles, phalange wiping his socket. “i was scared that if… if i said no you’d hate me.”

“Pfft,” you snort, before you quickly covered your mouth. “Sorry that wasn’t, I’m not laughing at you. I just want to know what made you think that?”

You bump him gently on the shoulder with your fist. “I thought you knew me!”

Sans snickers, a bit more giggly than usual. “i do! i just have doubts when it comes to romance nowadays,” He sighed. “so… you’re really ok with being friends?”

“Yeah! What’s so bad about being friends anyway? As long as you’re not weirded out by me, if I still get to see you, I count that as a win.”

Sans thought the same thing. He smiled.

“yeah… you’re right.”

It was definitely a win having you in his life.

You go oof! When all of a sudden Sans tugs you into a hug, squeezing you tightly.

“i’m… i’m glad i met you.”

You take him in for a moment, before wrapping your arms around him. You squeeze him back.

“Me too.”

#i used to get really sad reading sans rejection angst fics #then i thought about this to myself #and i feel better :>#sans is cool and i love him uvu #aka writing #angst is a speck in the window and reader deals with it nicely #gender neutral reader

334 notes · View notes

kaceythecrunch · 2 months

Text

RANT. (sturntok.)

Yall. Im so mad. Sturntok pisses me the fuck off to the point it isn't even funny anymore. This might be messy, so bare with me.

Tara. Why the fuck is everyone pressed about Tara hanging out with the triplet, specifically matt and Chris. Yall are acting as if it was only two of them, like they're on a date. They were with fucking I don't know, 8 other people? Like why does Sturntok care who they hangout with? Did you not learn from elementary school to mind your bees wax, or business? You're probably 15. They're literally 5 years older than you. There is no way, in any universe they're gonna date you girl. ALSO TO SHIT ON TARA?? LIKE GIRL. FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO SHIT ON CUZ HOMEGIRL DONT CARE. SHE DONT CARE. SHE IS STRIVING AND LIVING LIFE LIKE YOU SHOULD GIRL. Live life and don't care. You'll probably have a positive outcome. No cuz y'all know how Chris owns the Saturn necklace thing? Its vivienne underwood. It's less than 20 bucks on Amazon. Also when was the last time y'all saw Chris wearing that necklace girl. Also there's a post from like months, or I think a year ago of Tara wearing the same necklace. These fucking tiktok girls are so annoying. Like we get it, everyone wants to be Tara. (she's my gf.)

Podcast. I saw a bunch of btiches shit on the podcast. Like cmon. THEY ARE PRODUCING AN HOUR LONG VIDEO FOR YALL EVERY WEEK. Mfs are burnt out, you're lucky that they even produce content for you ungreatful hoes. Like lwk, I'd rather have them remove Wednesday videos. I remember when they first started their podcast that they were really excited to start and stuff. I also remember, I believe it was their earlier vlogs. When they were still living in Boston and they haven't like went to LA yet, they were talking about turning their basement into a podcast room. Like cmon. This is something they've been wanting to do and you hoes just don't appreciate anything. Like have y'all's mama's not been pissed at y'all for not appreciating her food. Live life positive and not negative tf. But ofc, I respect their decision.

Intro. Yall just love to shit on everyone. Ruining the party. Sturntok reminds me of the kids-the class "clowns" who would be so shitty to the teacher for no reason and would ruin fun things for everyone. Like guys, I think we should all as a community bully Sturntok. It requires a bit more bullying, just to knock some sense into their heads. Anyways, back to what I was ranting about. I loved their new intro. its a new era. A new them. Change. Is. Fucking. hard. I understand that you love the teens from Boston running around making fools of themselves. Me too, I shall admit it. But in order to get sponsorships, to get the little paring things. (For example, them sponsoring Celsius, even becoming the youtooz thing.) Like they gotta act more professional.

Change. This tied in with the last few things. CHANGE IS HARD. CHANGE IS A DIFFICULT THING. But how the fuck are you gonna live life, and enjoy life when your stuck on one thing forever. Change is needed for growth, and for learning. Like guys, THEYRE 20. I think that's something y'all forget. They aren't teenagers anymore. Its kinda like how when everyone went into middle school and started to not like kiddy things when you still liked kiddy things. When I was in middle school I still like to play with Legos, draw, watch anime. Until I hit 7th grade, aka everyone's downfall. I still enjoy some of those things today but I changed because people in middle school stopped like those things and its embarrassing (well for me at least) to show up in school with anime shirts cuz I'm getting older. Thats what they're feeling I guess. Again, theyre 20 now.

Crazy ass mfs. Crazy, as in them soft mf's on sturntok. Also what pisses me off more is that they're coming here on tumblr. Like no, I know your soft ass belongs on Wattpad bffr. I have a long rant about this one, so bare with me again. They are so so so so so SOOOOO sensitive about the "spicy edits." Sometimes the fucking video frame isn't even about something "spicy" aka- them being shirtless, video frame near their crotch. It was when there was a song about sex. How soft can you be. Most songs these days are about sex. Some songs y'all probably didn't know about was about sex. (cake by the ocean for example.) LIKE LETS ME FOR REAL. MOST SONGS ARE ABOUT SEX. Also with the tiktok audios being removed like cmon. Not everything is about sunshine and rainbows. I remember I commented on a Chris edit and I was like.

"I need this man in my life. He's so hot."

"you're fucking gross. He's a human being and do you know how grossed out he would be if he saw that you said this? (bullshitbullshit,morebullshitandstupidness.)"

Yeah, keeping fucking running your mouth. THIS TIKTOK HAS LIKE 4K VIEWS. DO YOU WANNA KNOW HOW MUCH FUCKING FOLLOWERS THE TRIPLETS HAVE? YEAH. THAT'S NOT EVEN A QUARTER OF WHAT THEY HAVE. THIS VIDEO HAS 1K COMMENTS. ARE THEY FUCKING HUNTING ME DOWN?? MY COMMENT HAS 3 LIKES. WHY WOULD THEY CARE TO FUCKING CHECK GIRL. ITS ALSO TELLING THE FUCKING PERSON WHO EDITED THIS THAT THIS EDIT WAS FIRE AND THAT THEY MADE THE EDIT HELLA GOOD. UR FUCKING LUCKY I KEPT MY ANGER TO MYSELF CUZ OH GIRL. I WOULD SUCKER PUNCH YOU. You know whats also funny? They're the same people who will be pissed with when they see matt or Chris with a female. Like girl. You're calling me fucking gross? Do you think how much more worse that is than my comment? You ruin friendships. OG sturniolo fans know that they've been friends with girls. If you genuinely care, yall would know that nick made most of matt and chris' friends. Meaning most of them were females. SO OBVIOUSLY THEYRE GONNA HAVE GIRL FRIENDS. I remember watching the Zach sang pod when nick was on and he explained that matt usually doesn't make the friends. Theres a joke where matt says "I'm gonna make a friend that wasn't originally nick's friends." smth like that. Anyways, off topic. Just because they are seen with a girl, doesn't mean they are fucking dating them. Like shut the fuck up. please. Respectfully shut the fuck because I'm a nice person. Also Chris gives off major virgin vibes lets bffr.

Madi. Yall hate so bad on Madi and its fucking grossing me out. Why do you have to ship her with matt and chris??? Literally to the point they can't even put her in photo dumps or videos. You just gotta ruin it for everyone, huh? shes fucking gorgeous, and she's so funny in videos. Plus, when she does talk shes hillarious. She literally reminds me of Matt. She doesn't fucking talk much because she is more of a listener.. Like guys bffr. How can you hate her when she barley spoke in videos. Like respectfully, shut the fuck up. Yall just jealous shes pretty.

Calling Nick fine. I also hate them mfs who are always running their mouth about girls calling Nick fine. Lets bffr. Y'all didn't think a gay guy is fine? I'm sure you've had a crush on one gay person before. And if you haven't trust me. You will. I had a crush on my gay friend in 8th grade. I feel like its a canon even in every girl's life. anyways, I hate when girls will be scared to call nick hot.

"Nick is so fine. But like as a cool guy friend way. Please don't attack me."

POOR GIRL BELIEVES SHE IS GONNA BE ATTACKED IF SHE CALLS A GAY MAN FINE. Sturntok leave her the fuck alone. He's hot as fucking and I will kill civilians if I'm not given more nick edits. He's so fine. Literally the hottest triplet.

If u made it here thanks. There was shit on my chest that I really needed to let out. What have we learned today?

Sturntok can suck my fucking dick.

Thanks goodbye.

Me to Sturntok :

186 notes · View notes

gatitties · 5 months

Note

Hello again my little butterfly 🦋✨

I came to place another order if that's ok! so, the scenario is a One Piece AU, where YN has an arranged marriage with Shanks, who is one of the richest men in town, but even so, YN decides to run away on her wedding day and throw herself off a bridge, but she can't, they find her and the family manages to bring her back to the wedding, Shanks is a man very much in love with YN, the moment he sees the sadness in YN's eyes when she walks up the aisle and puts the ring on her finger Shanks, he decides to conquer her and make her the happiest wife in the world! ( PS: Shanks is in a desperate situation when he learns that his beloved literally decided to throw herself off a bridge rather than stay with him, even little sad :( )

─Shanks x wife!reader

─Summary: you didn't want to be part of that ceremony, but you're not brave enough to run away either

─Warnings: slight mention of suicide attempt, modern AU

Oh hi hi love!! 🫶🏻🦋 you really like angst 😳

You ignored the perplexed looks of people, without stopping or thinking about a second option, you gripped the thin white fabric of your wedding dress harder so as not to trip over it, your shoes had long since disappeared so you could run more comfortably. You didn't want this, you didn't want to marry an unknown guy, no one thought about your feelings? It's not something your parents have the right to play with and you weren't going to let them ruin your life for financial convenience.

The moment adrenaline started to increase when you saw how you were now being persecuted, probably due to the absence in the ceremony that was taking place in the nearby church, you felt bad for the man you had been engaged to, since it wasn't his fault either and you didn't even know him enough to determine that he was a horrible person, but this decision was too hasty and you definitely didn't agree to this.

With your heart in your throat you ran until you tripped over your own sore feet, your breathing accelerated even more when you heard shouts of your name, taking courage again you stood up with a new impetus, although when you noticed how the distance between your pursuers was shortening more and more, your brain began to draw an extreme line in your thoughts.

Would it hurt? Could you die? Well, you were going to see for yourself what it felt like to jump off a bridge just to avoid facing an unwanted fate.

You quickly climbed onto the thick railing, stabilizing yourself standing on it, the next few seconds felt like a blur, like a part of memory that was difficult to remember, the fear of possible death and the indecision that comes with taking a long time to jump into the void made one of the guys chasing you caught you before you did something crazy.

The next thing you know after that, you were back in one of the private rooms of the church, being yelled at by your mother while your father looked on disapprovingly, you didn't care, nothing mattered to you at that moment, you let them go back to put on your makeup, you let them put new shoes on you and they changed the dirty surface fabric of your dress as if you were a doll, lifeless.

The ceremony returned to its course, Shanks waited awkwardly all this time at the altar, and when he saw you appear next to him his heart shattered, you weren't even looking at him, your eyes were lost somewhere far away in this unwanted reality, you lacked any kind of expression. He knew it, he knew how you felt, and yet he felt a little selfish for wanting to be your husband, for wanting to love you unconditionally, this marriage may be arranged, but he admired every drop of courage you poured out to prevent this event, every anger and every fierce response you gave to the first meetings between both families.

"Now… husband and wife, you can kiss each other."

You were both so absorbed in your own thoughts that you barely heard the priest's last words. Shanks was the first to step forward, holding your waist slowly as if he were asking permission and asking if it was okay to do so. You didn't move an inch, your eyes were still lost even when he sealed your fate with a cold kiss devoid of love, at least, lacking on your part.

Shanks knew it wouldn't be easy, that you weren't going to trust, that he wasn't going to receive tons of affection, even looks, he knew you were in a delicate state, after all, you'd rather almost kill yourself than get married.

You didn't bother with his emotions, you didn't bother to ask about his tastes, his hobbies or how his day had been, you just spent the days dead, repeating your routine, your life remained the same in a way, a few more numbers in the account. but in exchange of what? Your freedom and decision. You were hurt, you had been damaged by your own parents, your emotional wounds would not heal overnight and you would refuse to show a modicum of affection until you recovered.

Shanks knew that he would have to sleep alone for months, that an empty house would await him, that all his praise and gifts would be quickly discarded, but it doesn't matter, maybe you didn't look for him or you didn't want him, but as your husband, he would do everything he could to at least help you cope with the situation, he really loves you, but it won't be easy to win your affection because you never wanted this.

Your heart began to heal over time, it took a long time, you decided to completely break the relationship with your family, although before they were the only ones you could turn to, Shanks showed you that he would be there, that despite not being the husband that you chose as such, made you trust him, made you feel loved again.

He wasn't a bad man, he wasn't the most wonderful person in the world either, but he proved to be enough for you to stop feeling that emptiness inside your heart, step by step he managed to break the walls that you built around your emotions, Shanks turned out to be something unexpected in your life, someone you didn't think would be so important and he was able to grant some peace, some happiness back into your life.

Maybe you are not yet ready to accept that he is your husband, but you slowly began to meet someone you could voluntarily fall in love with.

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #one piece modern au #modern au #shanks #shanks x reader #x reader #husband shanks #wife reader #fem reader #request #one piece x fem reader #shanks x wife reader #sfw #reader insert #xreader #angst?

280 notes · View notes

genericpuff · 2 months

Note

bit out of nowhere but LO Hades reminds me so much to Bojack Horseman idk how to explain it

Oh we've talked about this extensively in the ULO chat circles n such, especially when it comes to the most climactic scene in the show, the second interview:

youtube

The entire tone of the show showcases a very bitter reality with a lot of celebrities and people in power. There are some messed up things that happen throughout the course of the show, but they always feel like they're being used for comedy or brushed under the rug with comedy, because the show is, after all, a comedy. But I feel like that was the point, because it's not until the final season that everything that happened throughout finally catches up to Bojack, and suddenly... it's not funny anymore. There's no punchline. It really reflects just how much people in power don't see their abuse or wrongdoings as "big deals", sometimes they even see it as "just some funny thing that happened", all while the onlookers and victims of their behavior and abuse either become so acquainted with it they don't even see it as abuse anymore until they finally break away from it (Diana, Todd, Princess Caroline, etc.) OR they fight to be heard while the media tries to snuff them out. So then when the consequences finally catch up to them, there are no laughs to be heard, as much as the perpetrator in question may try their best to pass it off as "not a big deal" or believe they shouldn't be held accountable because "it happened a long time ago".

Anyone who sees Biscuits Braxby as the villain here is missing the overall point - Bojack has been responsible for literally ruining people's lives on several occasions, and has never been held accountable.

And yeah, I see a lot of that in LO as well, but the issue is the framing of the story isn't making it clear if it's actually going to have its "Come to Jesus" moment with Hades and Persephone, or if it's just gonna keep celebrating them as the heroes.

There were no consequences for Hades pulling out Alex's eye. They played the resolution out for comedy.

There were no consequences for Persephone turning Minthe into a mint plant. They played the scenario out for comedy literally by the end of the very same episode and then well into the next one.

There were no consequences for Persephone cornering Tori at his job. The entire thing was played up for comedy.

There were no consequences for Persephone raiding Leuce's home. She was rewarded with sex from Hades and it was, you guessed it, played up for comedy.

Just like with Bojack Horseman, we don't see Hades or Persephone treat these situations as seriously as they ought to. They ultimately don't care how other people feel or how they may be affected by their own actions, they only care about themselves. Just like with Bojack, we see Hades enter sexual relationships with women who are in a much weaker position than him, women who stand to lose far more than he would if the relationship went south.

(I need you all to realize that Hades is literally blackmailing her. He is trying to pay her off with a management position or some kind of severance and framing it in such a way to manipulate her into thinking it's 'better' for her that she take the deal, all for the sake of getting her out of the picture because he's with Persephone now. This is blackmail. And the narrative wants us to root for Hades here.)

Shit, I would argue Bojack is still a better character than Hades and Persephone because we 1.) see how the consequences of his actions do affect him on a deeper level (through his anxiety and self-hatred which he spends a long time wallowing in, making his situation worse, rather than seeking help for) and 2.) he actually does eventually start to seek help, but unfortunately there's only so much one person can do to fix themselves when their actions still haven't been brought to justice and their mindset hasn't truly changed; which is what we see in the final part of the show when, despite Bojack's attempts to be a better person, the Sarah-Lynn case catches up to him, and in his final moments up on that stage with Biscuits Braxby, we see his true nature come out - he thinks being an addict should absolve him from what he's done to others.

Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Except replace "addict" with "traumatized" as many of Persephone and Hades' actions are swept under the rug with "they went through trauma so it's fine". Despite the fact that other characters who have also been through trauma aren't given that same grace (Thanatos, Demeter, Minthe, etc.)

You could also go a step further and call out how the fans themselves will defend their actions as "but they're gods!!! gods were terrible all the time in the myths!" but isn't it funny how myth accuracy only ever comes up when it comes to defending Hades and Persephone? Meanwhile you'll never see anyone bring it up when it comes to Apollo SA'ing Persephone, or Hades having an emotional affair with Persephone, or any of the other number of things that Rachel rewrote for her 'retelling'. It's not funny haha, it's funny yikes.

I can only imagine how the fans feel seeing Hades and Persephone called out must be similar to how first-time viewers like myself felt seeing Bojack be put on the cross by Biscuits Braxby - "you're being an asshole, he's working on himself!" "leave him alone!!!" "the media is making a monster out of him!" "he's really not THAT bad!"

But he is. They are. And unlike Bojack Horseman, I unfortunately can no longer have the good faith in believing Hades and Persephone will have their comeuppance, or the people they've hurt will get their retribution. I have no hope that Persephone will see that she's the Sarah-Lynn of the relationship, a girl who was groomed into an abuser at the hands of an abuser, who had no chance of doing better because the person she fell for pulled her down to his level. I don't have any faith in Rachel whatsoever that she'll manage to end this story with any message besides "it's fine for Persephone and Hades to be who they are, because they're rich and powerful and really horny for each other!"

And Hades doesn't think he has any power over women.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

268 notes · View notes

fluorynn · 1 month

Text

༊*·˚ — Avatar Characters with poc!human!reader who wears lipgloss.

ೃ⁀➷ Includes : Jake and Neytiri, Quaritch, Neteyam, Lo’ak

ೃ⁀➷ Warnings / Mentions : kissing, lipgloss, kissing, lipgloss, kissing, mentions of Jake and Neytiri wanting relationship with reader, Neteyam being a curious sweet gentleman, making out!

author’s note : I sincerely don’t even know what this is, lol. Some things feel a little dry to me — so I tried leaving this then coming back with the right motivation 😭 it just came together and I wanted to get it out of the drafts! Comment, reblog, do what you must! Enjoy<33

༊*·˚ Jake & Neytiri !

ೃ⁀➷ Neytiri was the first to notice this.

ೃ⁀➷ She had been engaged in a conversation with you, and thanks to her swift glances, you didn’t catch the way she would look at your mouth as words tumbled out of it.

ೃ⁀➷ a shimmer of something on your flesh, somehow…enlightening your entire face? What is this thing you wear? She thought.

ೃ⁀➷ It was odd — she had even had the urge to reach and dab the point of her thumb against your lower lip, wanting to smear off this…liquid you carried. But, she did not want to ruin the conversation she had with you, the way you happily spoke to her. So, with the best of her abilities, she ignored this oddness.

ೃ⁀➷ She had mentioned it to her mate, Jake. Both had set their eyes on you, a lovely, most intriguing human to them.

ೃ⁀➷ During Jake’s ‘good’ ol’ human days back on Earth, he of course recalled how women wore makeup — subtle to the most vivid and quite impressive work.

ೃ⁀➷ He was more of the natural beauty type of guy, but he didn’t mind if his future girl was into these kinds of things — he’d appreciate the added on beauty she’d give herself.

ೃ⁀➷ But he didn’t think he’d ever catch a glimpse of makeup in Pandora, the Na’vi don’t seem to need anything like that and the humans in the outpost didn’t really care much for these kinds of things anymore—

ೃ⁀➷ But he never expected to hear this from Neytiri. He had furrowed his brows at her words, asking what exactly was the issue? He didn’t understand, and all Neytiri did was huff, roll her eyes, and walk away from a confused Jake 🫥🫥

ೃ⁀➷ But then he sees you wearing this — don’t get him wrong; you’re already beautiful in his eyes. But when he catches a glimpse of lipgloss accentuating those lips of yours, it shoots something in him that’s …rather less questionable and more thrilling.

ೃ⁀➷ you didn’t think too much on it when he commented on it one day in the human outpost, wanting to visit Norm and you— not until you catch his eyes falter on your mouth a few more seconds longer than he usually does; his tail swishing around, the tip of it lightly brushing your leg emitting a raised brow from you.

ೃ⁀➷ “Trying new stuff now, huh?”

ೃ⁀➷ He’s not complaining though!

ೃ⁀➷ He likes when your upper lip curled up to give a smile and eye roll, and the shininess of that lipgloss only seems to add onto that happy gleam.

ೃ⁀➷ And then Neytiri came to view, which surprises you because she never comes around here, she gives him a look as to indicate what she was talking about, and you were incredibly confused as to why a laugh boomed out of him and why Neytiri gave him a venomous glare.

ೃ⁀➷ “Neytiri, baby — it’s lipgloss. Nothing harmful, nothing bad. Jus’ something to make her feel good…right?”

ೃ⁀➷ You then elaborated to Neytiri more about lipgloss once you were informed of what these two were on about, having them both crouched in front of you.

ೃ⁀➷ “…you do not feel good then, tawtute?” A furrow to her forehead, a purse to her lips as she spoke this.

ೃ⁀➷ You glared at Jake. “Jake ... .seriously— no, it’s not that I don’t feel good, Tiri. I just wanted to…change things up a bit. That’s all.”

ೃ⁀➷ “what flavor is it?”

ೃ⁀➷ “I’m sorry?”

ೃ⁀➷ There he goes and gives you that charming lopsided grin. “C’mon — what flavor is it?”

ೃ⁀➷ “I don’t see why it matter to you, but it’s raspberry—”

ೃ⁀➷ “Can I have some?”

ೃ⁀➷ this confused the both of you, but Jake only threw Neytiri a wink and looked back down at you.

ೃ⁀➷ “I left it back…in my room though—”

ೃ⁀➷ The next thing you know, a firm touch pressed over your ajar mouth, and you blinked once, twice, three times when he pulled away, his own mouth slightly glistening with your lipgloss and the addition of the moist added from his tongue as it slowly dragged over his lower lip.

ೃ⁀➷ “huh, yeah you’re right. It does taste like raspberry— baby Neytiri, you want some? It’s good.” The golds of his eyes shimmered as he said this, and your shock was added onto when he pecked her mouth.

ೃ⁀➷ She blinks in surprise, but catches the fruitful taste. She looks at him, then at you, a subtle quirk to her mouth.

ೃ⁀➷ “I believe I need a better taste…tawtute? I can?”

ೃ⁀➷ You don’t have time to reply however, for she pulls you close, and places a much softer, much lingering kiss on your lips.

ೃ⁀➷ Your insides are stirred, your mind a turmoil of emotions but don’t fight it. Not when this strong ass, goddess-like woman is holding you and kissing you, trying to find taste in the lipgloss you wear.

ೃ⁀➷ Jake only watches with a grin, his tail swishing side to side in anticipation when she pulls away from you, a pensive look in those golden eyes while little poor you is left in a haze.

ೃ⁀➷ “Yes. You are right, It does not taste odd.”

ೃ⁀➷ she then pulls you to her chest and smushed her cheek against your forehead. “Though you are good enough without it.”

ೃ⁀➷ your face would be very flustered, blood boiling beneath the flesh of your cheeks at what was occurring. You glance at Jake questionably and he only grins and crouches closer to you both.

ೃ⁀➷ “yeah, she’s right. Good girl.” He cheeks, and you could only find hiding in burying your face in Neytiri’s lithe chest, hearing the purring motions she created while feeling Jake’s chin prop over your shoulder.

༊*·˚ Recom Quaritch

ೃ⁀➷ Picking through from Miles Quaritch’s, he has a vague idea of what’s that lipgloss you like to wear.

ೃ⁀➷ He does that raised eye brow expression when he sees you wearing it, scrutinizing the way words fall from that sweet mouth of yours.

ೃ⁀➷ His own mouth puckers out when he watches you apply it, following the slow, smooth movements your gloss creates over the surface of your lips.

ೃ⁀➷ He’s a bit confused as to why his tail is swaying too much, Lyle being the one to point it out with a smirk.

ೃ⁀➷ “looks like someone’s gotta crush, sir.😏😏”

ೃ⁀➷ “Shut it, Lyle.”

ೃ⁀➷ but it is pretty obvious, by the way he lumbers constantly over your small frame, the way his eyes scrutinize you every time you come into view.

ೃ⁀➷ because of his enhanced Na’vi senses, he can catch a strong whiff of those scented lipglosses you wear; his personal favorite is a strawberry like one — it has a much stronger spark and pigment than the others. A much stronger affect on him.

ೃ⁀➷ He knows he’s not an expert on woman but somehow, after catching the way his nose flared and tail swiveled the other day from talking to you, crouched down to meet your eye level, you seemed to wear that specific one more?

ೃ⁀➷ love LOVES the way you chew on your lower lip when he stares down at you so deeply, a playful grin across his face as he crouches down.

ೃ⁀➷ takes another whiff because why not?

ೃ⁀➷ “y’smell nice, doll. That mouth of yours,” Chin tilts down to your lips. “ ‘t’s gonna be the end of someone one day….can I test it out?”

ೃ⁀➷ you don’t even have time to answer! He just goes and pulls you in, your forearms stuff against his chest as a small squeak meets his awaiting mouth.

ೃ⁀➷ it’s a firm, toe curling type of kiss. You wouldn’t have expected it from Quaritch to be honest.

ೃ⁀➷ you don’t tell him that of course —

ೃ⁀➷ pulls back with a deep furrow between his brows, that mouth purse of his returning, in additional with your gloss pasted over.

ೃ⁀➷ “hm. Not bad, cupcake, not bad…”

ೃ⁀➷ That Cheshire Cat like smile erupts as he stares down at your flushed expression, long fingers winding around your hips.

ೃ⁀➷ “imma need another though. Just in case this someone needs feedback. That someone being me of course.” Smirks once more. “I can handle that mouth.”

ೃ⁀➷ Every meeting he has with the other recoms, with his posture all proud and straight, his face serious and leader like, you can catch glimpse of his lip gloss stained mouth — sometimes a simple shimmer, sometimes a tinge of some kind of color —

ೃ⁀➷ the others snicker at him during these meetings, Lyle only shaking his head with a grin while Quaritch remains unbothered and proceeds with the meeting as quick as he can to get back to your pretty mouth.

༊*·˚ Neteyam !

ೃ⁀➷ definitely was a bit confused as to why your lips were boldly shining.

ೃ⁀➷ He tries his best to be respectful, to not stare down at your mouth as you spoke to his siblings, having playful banters with Lo’ak, engaging in conversation with Spider and Kiri in the human outpost.

ೃ⁀➷ But it was hard to tear away his focus, especially when you didn’t have that exomask on, and gave a clear, endearing smile to Tuk — a smile that wasn’t exactly directed to him but it didn’t matter.

ೃ⁀➷ Your smiles were already breathtaking to him, yet somehow — with the way your upper lip curled to form a grin, that opalescent shine only seemed to add onto that happy expression of yours, contrasting beautifully with your rich tones.

ೃ⁀➷ He was entranced still, too caught up in it, not caring for the way Lo’ak nudged him hard to stop staring and to calm the way his tail swayed and hit him.

ೃ⁀➷ Lo’ak was sort of concerned because Neteyam was usually very well collected when it came to you — even if he knew his big brother had a crush on you.

ೃ⁀➷ It was when he let his eyes drag up and saw the way your brow arched directly at Neteyam.

ೃ⁀➷ Busted he thought, ears flitting against the sides of his head and dipped his chin down for a second, a turmoil of embarrassment within his chest.

ೃ⁀➷ When you catch his gaze, he was about to look at anything and everywhere but you. Yet once again, he was caught in a trance between the gleam of your eyes and the twinkle of your suddenly too bright, too wide smile.

ೃ⁀➷ Lo’ak and Spider got caught up in a rather standoff-ish conversation of who can climb trees better, leading them to go outside with Kiri and Tuk tailing behind them.

ೃ⁀➷ But you didn’t go, and he didn’t want to either, especially when he couldn’t stop staring.

ೃ⁀➷ He found himself crouching down, and you standing just mere inches away from him.

ೃ⁀➷ “what…what is this, lip thing you wear? Why do you wear it?”

ೃ⁀➷ you couldn’t help but giggle at the way his pointer finger rose to his lips, circling around while his head tilted at you.

ೃ⁀➷ “it’s something humans call lipgloss…I wear it because makes me feel prettier.”

ೃ⁀➷ He found himself nodding at your words, braids swaying across his shoulders and it made you grin. “Yes. You look very, very pretty— it looks very pretty— you look pretty with it—”

ೃ⁀➷ You giggle at his words but thank him, a subtle smirk curving those glossy lips, and he recognized the twinkle in your eyes, the false innocence within them.

ೃ⁀➷ “Would you like some?”

ೃ⁀➷ His nose would scrunch in confusion, head tilting at you. “Is it not only for sky people?”

ೃ⁀➷ “It can be for Na’vi too.”

ೃ⁀➷ This his tail sways even more at, intrigued to see how this substance would feel and look on him.

ೃ⁀➷ He is surprised when you walk forward, a smile of glee across your pretty features as you tilt your head up at him. Before he can get a word out, your mouth very subtly pushes against his slightly open one. It was odd, but it felt incredibly nice.

ೃ⁀➷ Flustered. So very flustered he grows with this sudden action, but he feels the stickiness across his lower lip, inhales the sweetness, accidentally tastes it and you catch the way his gold eyes spark.

ೃ⁀➷ “That…that was nice.” His nod is dumbfounded, expression dazed as he asks, “Can you do it again?”

ೃ⁀➷ You couldn't help but giggle because even in this state, he was still a gentleman.

ೃ⁀➷ Your giggles make his ears flicker once more, his braids tickling your skin. “Of course.”

ೃ⁀➷ Let’s just say his siblings then come in and find his mouth shining with your lipgloss while your swollen lips were absent from it.

ೃ⁀➷ Spider was smirking knowingly, Kiri rolling her eyes, Tuk confused to the silence, and Lo’ak’s face shocked.

ೃ⁀➷ “Bro, what the hell! You’re a girl now!”

༊*·˚ Lo’ak !

ೃ⁀➷ He thought it was food at first when he saw this weird glint on your mouth.

ೃ⁀➷ you had been eating something in the human outpost, so your mask had been discarded and it was easier to notice this.

ೃ⁀➷ “what is this…clean your mouth!”

ೃ⁀➷ you were a bit taken back, lower lip pursing out and brow raised.

ೃ⁀➷ that shine was odd to him but somehow…mesmerizing?

ೃ⁀➷ he, without thinking, reached out and dragged his rather big thumb over it, squinting at the odd texture of it.

ೃ⁀➷ “Lo’ak, what the hell! Back up, stop that—”

ೃ⁀➷ “I am trying to clean this…ew, why is it so sticky? What have you been eating?”

ೃ⁀➷ he inspects the stickiness on his thumb, nose scrunching in distaste before he brings it close and takes a small whiff.

ೃ⁀➷ “it’s lipgloss, you moron.”

ೃ⁀➷ it surprisingly has a good smell — a citrus tinge of some kind. It leads him to poke his tongue out and drag it over the tip of his thumb

ೃ⁀➷ “Lo’ak, no—”

ೃ⁀➷ it’s child-like, it’s freaking adorable the way he gives you a crooked grin.

ೃ⁀➷ “hey that shit’s good.”

ೃ⁀➷ he lumbers over you as he tries reaching for you to get another taste.

ೃ⁀➷“Give me more—”

ೃ⁀➷ “it’s not food, Lo’ak!”

ೃ⁀➷ “you get to have some but I can’t? That isn’t fair!”

ೃ⁀➷ he ends up falling over your tiny bed with him on you – a wheeze squeaking from your chest at his weight and the sound of your bed creaking.

ೃ⁀➷ “Shit – sorry, sorry–”

ೃ⁀➷ He hoists himself up, and he gives you that SHIT EATING GRIN once more when the breathing mask dangling around his neck hits your forehead.

ೃ⁀➷ “Ass.”

ೃ⁀➷ Your glare deceives the way your face blazes when his forearm rests right beside your head, that single beaded braid that sways across his temple ticking your scrunched up nose.

ೃ⁀➷ “Lo’ak, get off.”

ೃ⁀➷ “Nah…”

ೃ⁀➷ A thought then occurs to you when those gives you the ‘triangle method’ – both eyes, then your smirking mouth – before you act upon it.

ೃ⁀➷ “Fine, you want some? I’ll give you some–”

ೃ⁀➷ Your hands curl themselves over his shoulders and pull him down to place a solid kiss on his mouth, grinning at the way his eyes widen and how he jumps off you.

ೃ⁀➷ “Bro, what the hell is wrong with you!”

ೃ⁀➷ It’s amusing now – the sight of a tall blue alien in standing abruptly straight in your rather small room, ears and tail swaying, chest puffing, face flustered, eyes abroad, mouth fully shining from the gloss that once belonged to you.

ೃ⁀➷ “Oh c’mon, don’t tell me you didn’t like it! C’mon, now you got a better taste.”

ೃ⁀➷ Definitely tries to discreetly glide his tongue over his mouth though it’s obvious by the way his ears perk up.

ೃ⁀➷ He stares at you for a long moment, and your smug grin slowly starts to shrink as you realize what he’s about to do.

ೃ⁀➷ “Lo’ak…what – I swear you better–”

ೃ⁀➷ Jumps on your bed, grabs a huffing and giggling you in his arms and extends his neck to kiss you again

ೃ⁀➷ “I want another !”

ೃ⁀➷ This is how the two of you officiate a relationship, and he returns home every day with his face smeared with your lipgloss and a dazed out look in his eyes.

238 notes · View notes

ifancyharry · 9 months

Text

Northern attitude (1)

in which YN moves to a small town in the Alps and Harry is her grumpy neighbor

word count: 8k

When YN got called to her boss’s office, that Friday morning, she was absentmindedly registering the data she’d gathered the day prior from the soil of a closed wildlife zoo. She had gotten so nervous, she accidentally tapped an extra zero on the computer and she had to do it all over again at home once she’d gotten an email from her supervisor telling her the numbers didn’t match. To say she was embarrassed was an understatement, and she’d gotten right at it, eager to correct it, despite her coworker telling her she could easily do it the following work day.

As she had paved the short walk from her desk to her boss’s office she tried to think of something she’d done in the past days that would require such an odd behavior on her boss’s part.

Of course her boss couldn’t possibly have known about the extra number error, unless Dante — her boss, who was a rather nice one and wanted his employers to call him by his first name, because it was such a unique name he couldn’t possibly answer to such a simple and common thing as ‘boss’ — was some kind of supernatural being able to foresee the future. She frowned as she tossed the thought from her head. She likes to think she would’ve noticed if her boss was not human, but despite his uncommon name, he was a pretty normal guy, somewhat laid back and kind of understanding with his employees, so nothing stuck out in that sense.

There was another thing that came to mind when she tried to find a reason for his unpredicted call, probably much more possible than her starring in an episode of Supernatural with Dante, and that was, maybe, that her break up had finally caught up to her. She’d tried to keep it as low as possible, not that she had a lot of friends at work, but one coworker of hers was particularly noisy and would ask once in a while how her boyfriend, Aaron, was doing. So when said coworker had asked, she’d just shrug it off with a ‘he’s all right,' without mentioning how she’d found him in bed with her best friend only a week before.

She’d kept her crying to a minimum, excusing herself to the bathroom every once in a while when the image of her boyfriend on top of her best friend crept inside her mind when she wasn’t busying herself with work.

So she really can’t understand how Dante figured it out. Her work had been impeccable, and despite her many bathroom breaks, she swore nothing had changed in her demeanor.

YN doesn’t know why when something unexpected happens, she always thinks about the worst possible scenario. Her mind fogged with images of Dante firing her, Dante being a supernatural something, biting her head off because he predicted she’d type the wrong number and probably make his company go bankrupt, ruining a life’s work — of course YN didn’t have such responsibility (she was supervised in everything she did) and her job was rather dull, just a lot of bureaucracies and not as much research as expected.

She certainly hadn’t imagined Dante’d called her in his office because he wanted to offer her a promotion. She honestly couldn’t believe her ears and she’d almost asked him to repeat himself had it not be for his endless monologue about the importance of team work and how she had to take one for the team, besides, moving to a small town in the Alps was nothing, and it was only for two years, so why would she decline?

Wait. Moving? To the Alps? (She honestly doesn’t even know where the Alps are, but is too embarrassed to ask him, and promises herself she’ll google it once she gets back to her desk.)

Turns out, the position was vacant because her coworker Anais had just found out she was expecting a baby, so she couldn’t move anymore (especially to the Alps!, he’d said), and Dante had immediately thought of YN, because well, as he said, she was young and didn’t have anything holding her back. YN remembers she frowned at that, because she really didn’t have anything keeping her there, if not the possibility of running into her ex at the supermarket hand in hand with her friend.

With that in mind, she kind of accepted before really taking the time to think about it, desperate to get out of a place that felt suffocating all of a sudden.

Dante had been ecstatic to hear that, going on and on about how they recently found out traces of a wild grizzly bear that had been thought extinct for many years, and how she’d love working in the field as opposed to her office job.

He explained how her living situation was already sorted out (and paid for by the company), she figured probably because Anais had done the house hunting prior to finding out she was pregnant and couldn’t go. Dante had told her she’d be leaving in two weeks, and the plane was non refundable so she couldn’t just change dates. Plus, he said, they were expecting her, so she better pack fast! (YN had felt ravish at that, because she never truly felt indispensable for her actual coworkers.)

She’d managed to pack all her and her dog’s — a one year old dachshund named Baguette — stuff in ten days, making sure she had enough warm clothes to last her at least all winter, because as it turns out, she had googled where the Alps are, and they’re really, really, cold. Temperatures dropping below the zero in March cold.

YN, who, she’d like to think, wasn’t someone scared of changes and adapted to situations rather well, was kind of excited as she had gotten on the plane, ready to leave her life behind, because, really, how bad could it be?

. . .

Turns out, it was pretty bad. And when YN says bad, it means bad, because she isn’t one to use words lightheartedly. When she says bad, she means her suitcases got stalled at the airport because of custom checks bad. Gets dark at four in the afternoon bad. Had to walk in the freezing March weather (along a steep climb!), because there wasn’t any kind of public transportation kind of bad.

So, yes, it was pretty bad. Not to completely drain her of her enthusiasm, but definitely enough to dim it.

When she reached the gate of the house, she took her phone from her pocket and unlocked it, opening the mail’s app and looking for the one her landlord had sent her with all the details (he technically hadn’t sent it to her, but to Anais; Dante had forwarded it to her and assured her the landlord — a certain Mr. Styles, knew about her arrival and would greet her in his house — more like his garden — with open arms).

She nodded to herself once she finished reading the instructions, opening the gate with the code Mr. Styles had written in the email. She repeated the combination of numbers a couple of times in her head, so she could remember it better in the future, and once she heard the gate had been unlocked, she pushed it open with one hand, looping her fingers around the embroidery on the metal.

“C’mon, Baguette!” She said, lowering to the ground and picking up her small dog. Baguette got extremely tired from walking and she certainly couldn’t blame her. She felt pretty tired too, almost enough to get already in bed at five in the afternoon and sleep though the night, and she let herself gleam in the cozy daydream while she paved the way to the small house she’d be staying in, annex to a much bigger one where she figured Mr. Styles (and probably his wife? His family? She didn’t know) lived in. She felt herself grimace once she realized she didn’t even have her pajamas, so before she could fulfill her little dream, she had to at least stop at a supermarket to get something to sleep in.

She prayed in her mind it was close, because really, she didn’t know how long she had before her feet would give up on her.

YN wasn’t one to pry on people’s personal spaces, never had been (not even when she passed her crush’s house in 8th grade and her mind begged her to take a quick peek inside to see if he was home) and she regarded houses as very personal, intimate, spaces, so she doesn’t know why, on her way to her own house, she stopped to get on her toes and look inside what seemed to be a kitchen window. The house seemed empty, the lights turned off expect for a small lamp in the corner, and she possibly couldn’t have known that Mr. Styles had just gotten out of his car and was walking towards her with a look that, had she seen it, probably would have scared her.

“What the hell are you doing?” He snapped, making her jump. She turned toward him right away, watching him shut the car door loudly, a stern look adorning his otherwise gentle features.

“Uhm… hello?” She questioned, furrowing her brows at him, “I’m YN, the — she cleared her voice and pointed with her thumb in the direction of the small house — the new tenant. Who are you?”

YN tried to rattle inside her brain if Dante had mentioned a flatmate she’d be sharing the house with, but nothing came to mind. So who was he?

“YN?” He asked, the furrow in his brows only deepening. He had gotten incredibly close to her and YN felt unease at having her personal space involved like that, which is kind of ironic, must she say.

She nodded, mumbling a small yes along with it.

“I thought Anais was supposed to come?”

Did he know Anais? How did he know her?

Oh!

Oh.

Could he be?

He certainly couldn’t!

He was much younger than she’d imagined!

She thought Mr. Styles would be an odd, off putting kind of elderly person, who maybe had a wife or an old dog Baguette could play with. She certainly couldn’t have imagined Mr. Styles was this handsome (yet scary), tall guy, with a mop of chocolate brown curly hair down to his shoulders, eyes as green as the deepest forest she dreamt about while reading fantasy books when she was younger, broad shoulders and… were those swallows she could see from the low collar of his white cotton shirt? And who wears only a shirt in this weather? He must be mad!

“Oi!” He waved a hand in front of her face to catch her attention, “i’m talking to you.”

She mumbled something incomprehensible and then she gulped before nodding her head, “sorry. Anais couldn’t come anymore, Dante told me you knew.”

She watched as Mr. Styles scoffed, muttering a ‘what a prick’ before shaking his head, a strand of curly hair falling in front of his eyes, which he pushed out of his face with a couple of gentle fingers. YN noticed the various rings adorning his hands, and she wondered for a brief moment wether they were a gift or if he’d buy them himself.

He looked over her briefly and YN shifted her weight from foot to foot, thinking he was probably wondering why she didn’t have any bags with her. She was getting ready to explain how the airport security had detained them, but the words haltered in her throat when she saw him raise a hand and letting the sleepy Baguette in her arms sniff it, before scratching his ear.

“What a cute doggy” he said, lowering himself to be face to face with the small dog, “what’s your name?” He asked directly to Baguette, and YN felt as if all of a sudden she was the dog and Baguette was her owner, and she blushed at that thought.

“This is Baguette!” She chimed awkwardly.

“Ha” he snorted through his nose, “cute name. Baguette” he repeated, and the name rolled off his tongue so sweetly YN imagined what hers would sound like coming from his lips. Probably much more stern and less saccharine.

“Okay, I have to go.” He raised himself, making her jump a little in her place. He straightened his shirt and looked at her with a crossed look, “you know how to get in, right? Or do I have to explain that too?”

YN couldn’t possibly know what other things he had explained, but she wasn’t clueless and had realized Mr. Styles didn’t particularly like her, so she figured it was best to say she did and figure it out on her own. So, she nodded and he gave a short nod back, walking past her towards his own house.

She watched him unlock the door with a set of keys and then disappear behind the front door, her gaze fixed on his broad shoulder covered only by the thin fabric of his shirt. She felt Baguette wiggle her tail from where she was holding her between her arms, and YN rolled her eyes at her dog, “of course you like him already! Traitor!”

. . .

YN didn’t knock on Mr. Styles’s door with the intention of bothering him.

She just wanted to ask him where she could buy something to sleep in and perhaps something to eat, an overpriced airport sandwich being the only thing she’d eaten all day. So, she thought, her intentions were pretty harmless, and it’s not like she was expecting an invite in for dinner or something like that!

She truly didn’t mean to be a bother, but her stomach had started to grumble half an hour ago, and she dreamed of the hot shower she’d take after, which she couldn’t possibly take if she wasn’t certain she’d have something to sleep in comfortably.

When a couple of minutes had passed and there was still no trace of Mr. Styles, she wondered whether he was even home. Her mind lingered just a second on the possibility that he was actually avoiding her, but YN was one of those people that always chose to see the good in others, so she got rid of the thought as quickly as it had come.

She knocked on the door again, this time harder and firmer, and she waited patiently. She was almost about to give up, when the door opened before her with a swift movement that caught her off guard.

Mr. Styles looked displeased once he set his scrutinizing gaze on her figure, and YN could almost feel his eyes touch her.

“What?” He asked, his brows furrowed on his forehead.

“I was just wondering if you knew a place where I could…like… it’s just that… I think you probably noticed, I don’t have my suitcases. And it’s honestly fine, the airport was packed so I don’t really blame them, and the hostess was so nice! She offered to refund me for the problem, but I didn’t want to go through all that… but now I really need my clothes so I don’t… ugh” she sighed frustratedly. YN tends to kind of talk really fast when she’s nervous. She’s always been like that, especially in front of boys, and her ex boyfriend always used to get mad at her for that — said it was embarrassing and made her look dumb; she’d tried many times to explain it wasn’t something she could control easily, but he’d suggested she’d fix it fast (especially if she wanted to meet his friends).

“Sorry” she exhaled, closing her blabbering mouth in a straight line.

Harry waited for her to continue what she was saying, his face stoic and impossible to read, which didn’t help soothe her nerves.

“Is there a place where I can get some clothes?”

“You moved across the country without clothes?” He asked, his brows closed in a furrow across his face that made YN even more nervous. She felt dumb. She wanted to explain what had happened without sounding silly.

“Ughhh, nooo. They kept my bag at check-in, so I don’t actually have any clothes, apart from these” she pointed towards her flimsy cotton sweatshirt that was definitely inappropriate for the cold weather.

YN tried not to pay too much mind to the grimace of what seemed like disgust when Mr. Styles looked at her clothes, and she shifted uncomfortably on her feet while she waited for his response.

“It’s almost six in the evening. Everything’s closed.”

YN felt her heart fall into her stomach as her brain registered the words that came out of his mouth.

Six. In the evening.

Everything. Closed.

“What?”

Harry rolled his eyes at her surprise, “everything closes at five here. You didn’t know?”

YN felt hopeless because how could she have known! She’d literally been on a plane for ten hours!

She looked at Mr. Styles with her big, widened eyes, and Harry didn’t have to wait for her to say it to know the answer.

YN felt like crying, right there in front of this man she didn’t even know the full name of. Her boyfriend had been right when he’d call her dumb. Because she was dumb. Who moves across the country this unorganized?

“Look, I really need to go right now.” Mr. Styles broke the tense silence that had fallen upon them, and he watched as she nodded her head slowly, seeming lost in thought.

“Okay.” She muttered, and it felt weird seeing her so quiet, but honestly, it wasn’t Harry’s problem. Her douchebag of a boss should’ve warn her, or at least she could’ve researched a bit on the place she was moving to!

He cleared his throat and YN woke up from her trance, she swiftly moved to the side to let him out. Harry closed the door behind him and locked it with his keys.

He shivered as a gust of cold wind fell upon them, and he watched with the corner of his eye how YN tried to squeeze herself in the flimsy sweatshirt she was wearing. Ha. She didn’t even look up the weather first!

He kind of felt bad for her, in a remote part of himself, but he also judged her for her carelessness.

“Bye” she waved gently from beside him, and he nodded towards her in a form of greeting.

He pretended to busy himself with his phone, not feeling like talking to her anymore, but when she started walking towards her own house, he looked up in her direction, his eyes on her back.

Her shoulders were sagged and she displayed a very different demeanor than she did this morning. Harry shook the feeling of her sadness from his gut and walked towards his gate, ready to meet his friends.

. . .

YN was hungry. And she felt gross. And the combination wasn’t the best.

She wanted to shower and lay down on her bed, that looked extremely comfortable and clean, but she was still wearing her airport clothes, and there was no way in hell she’d sleep in those.

She debated whether she could sleep naked, but it was way too cold for that, and she had work in the morning, so she didn’t want to call in sick her first day.

She was hopeless.

For a minute, she was so hungry that she contemplated eating some of Baguette’s food, but then she felt so disgusted by the idea she felt like throwing up, so she decided it was probably better not to. She couldn’t afford to throw up the only meal she’d had all day. So, she waited.

Her original plan was to stay up until 5 in the morning, go buy some pajamas and then nap for an hour until she had to wake up at 7.

But the combination of starvation and exhaustion didn’t really go well, because she was so tired she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She wondered for a moment if the ground was comfortable, and just as she was about to lay down and test it, she heard a knock on her door she almost believed she’d imagined at first.

She walked slowly to the door, her brows furrowed, and when she opened the door, she swears to god she was about to pass out.

At her feet lay a tray with takeout boxes, she couldn’t see what was inside them, but she figured anything was better than eating Baguette’s food. Next to the tray was a grocery store bag, closed with the handles tied in a knot, and she picked it up curiously.

She bent down to pick up the tray and she closed the door behind her with her foot.

She opened the yellow grocery bag first, and she still remembers the sigh of relief she let out as she saw what was inside: a clean long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of blue plaid pajama pants. She could smell the sweet and clean smell of the fabric softener, and she inhaled the scent in deeply.

She put aside the clothes and opened the take out boxes, eager to eat something. She grabbed a fork from the pantry and opened the first box, which contained what seemed to be a homemade meal, some kind of pasta with tomato sauce and meat. She scooped up a big bite and she felt better already, her brain finally being fueled after a really tiring day.

. . .

When she lay in bed that night, fresh off the shower and her tummy full with the best pasta she’d ever eaten, she cuddled with Baguette next to her and her mind wandered off to Mr. Styles. Maybe, she hadn’t really bothered him that much after all.

. . .

Harry hates people. And, therefore, he hates places full of people. Especially supermarkets. He hates supermarkets.

All those people in line, carts crushing into each others because of the carelessness of their owners, the annoying, commercial music coming from the speakers insinuating itself into his ears, the loud echo of voices commuting in one big buzz.

He hates supermarkets and most especially waiting in line. The self-check out was the best addiction to the small town’s supermarket, and ever since he’d found out how to scan his items by himself, he’d never, not once, gone back to the served check out. Apart from today, that is. Because the other registers appeared to be broken, and they couldn’t have picked a worse day to be, in his opinion. Rush hour, in a small town, is around 4 in the afternoon, and Harry knew that, and he had always tried to avoid the supermarket at that hour, but Niall had called, and he needed some kind of special sausage they only had at that particular supermarket, and when Harry had groaned, he’d swat at his arm playfully and he’d said: “you should thank god I feed you!”, and that was true in all its entireness, so Harry couldn’t really find it in him to argue with that. So, that’s what he was doing, at 4 in the afternoon, rush hour, holding a pack of a dozen sausages because his friend needed it.

He was lost in his thoughts when he heard her. That sweet voice that had taunted him the night before, so much he had asked Niall for some of the pasta he’d prepared “in case he got hungry later”, of course, that wasn’t entirely the reason. The reason being the cute and annoying girl standing in line a person before him, and the thought of her starving and with nothing but a cotton sweatshirt to shield her from the inevitable cold of the night.

“I’m so sorry it’s taking me so long,” he heard her say, as she let out a nervous chuckle through her mouth, “I just can’t find my card”.

“Only cash with this register, lady. There’s a sign right there” the cashier pointed towards the sign and YN felt herself get red with embarrassment. Eager to get it over with, she had run to the first opened register she could find, not paying much attention to her surrounding, which, she then realized, she probably should’ve.

“I just flew in last night, I still haven’t got time to…” she shook her head as she realized the cashier didn’t care. Of course she didn’t. Once again, she felt silly and alone.

“Okay” she whispered to herself, “i’ll just leave it all here and come back later?”

Harry, that was standing in line just a person from her, had listened to the exchanged quite attentively, and he’d rolled his eyes at her.

He cleared his throat and she snapped her head in his direction, and he didn’t miss the way her cheeks had turned pink once she’d recognized him.

“I’ll pay for her things” he offered, and the person in front of him, a middle aged man, breathed out a sigh of relief and whispered a “thank god” that YN didn’t miss. She smiled apologetically at the man, who didn’t even as much as throw a glance at her, and she watched as he stepped to the side to let Harry pass before him.

YN started packing her bags and she refused to look at Mr. Styles as he paid for her groceries and his own, too embarrassed to acknowledge the encounter that had just happened.

When he passed her, he grabbed one bag from the floor and started walking towards the exit of the supermarket, and YN watched as his bicep flexed under the weight of the bag.

She hurried to pick up his pace, and once she found herself walking at his side, she opened her mouth to thank him: “thank you so much, Mr. Styles. I genuinely didn’t know, otherwise I never would’ve chosen that register! The sign was just so small and I never pay attention to my surroundings so it was an honest mistake, I swear!”

Harry rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time, “will yeh stop calling me Mr. Styles? ’s not like I’m bloody fifty years old!”

“Sorry” YN blushed embarrassed, as she tried to walk quickly beside him. His legs were very much longer than hers, and he walked pretty fast despite the added weight of the groceries.

“What should I call you?”

“Harry.” He groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Ok. Harry.” She said, nodding her head, liking the way his name sounded rolling off her tongue. “I will send you the money right away, I’m so sorry you had to do that for me”

“’s fine. Don’ worry ‘bout it.”

YN cleared her throat and nodded, looking down at her shoes as she kept walking beside him. Every once in a while, she would lose her balance due to the weight on her hands, and her arm would brush against his, the contact not going unnoticed by her. She wondered if he noticed too and if he cared, she knew he probably didn’t, but it was nice.

“Oh!” She remembered as they walked their way back to his house, “thank you for the food, too. And of course the clothes!!! You didn’t have to, but thank you. I was so hungry you have no idea. And the food was so so so good! Did you make it?”

“No.” He answered briefly.

“Well… it was really yummy. I’ll have to meet the chef!” She joked, and because she felt her arm get tired, she switched the bag to her other hand, trying to balance the weight, “are they from around here?”

“Yes.”

YN nodded understandably, “You know, I was a little scared to come here because I’d be all alone. Well, not entirely alone because I have Baguette, but… I’m so happy you’re my neighbor! You’re so nice”

Harry snorted through his nose at her words, “tha’s a first”, but YN, even if she heard him, didn’t say anything.

When they finally reached the house, Harry walked her to the door and placed the bag on the ground, massaging his arm that had gone a little bit sore.

“Thank you” she repeated, smiling warmly at him.

Harry shrugged and was about to turn around, when he heard her say “wait! Do you want to see Baguette?”

. . .

Harry left her house about half an hour later, incredibly late and with his phone blowing up from Niall’s calls.

He had looked around quickly once he’d walked inside, and he noticed some of her belongings scattered around the living room, some pillows that he didn’t recognize as his own lying on the couch. He wondered for a brief second what her room looked like, not regarding the furniture (that he had picked a long time ago with his mother), but what it looked like with her living in it. Did she change the sheets or did she keep the ones he chose? Was it tidy or messy? Did she sleep with Baguette?

It was weird to him, thinking this way about her, because never would he have thought of her as more than an annoying girl. But, he could admit she was kind of cute. Annoying, but definitely cute.

He had played with Baguette while YN put away the groceries, and they didn’t talk much because he didn’t feel like talking. He’d never given much confidence to people he didn’t know, and, despite YN calling him ‘nice’, he didn’t really know much about her.

He had excused himself after about twenty minutes of playing with Baguette, and after a quick rub on the dog’s belly, he left her house without muttering more than a ‘bye’.

He didn’t care if he came off as rude, he’d always been that way, and he certainly wasn’t about to change for this girl he met just the day before!

. . .

YN loved her work.

Since she was little, she’d always loved wild animals, and she’d dreamed one day of doing the job she’s supposed to do now: gather sources about this rare bear that had been sighted and write a report about it to send to Dante. If the report was good, she’d be published on Dante’s scientific magazine, which was a great opportunity for YN to get her name out there and be regarded in the scientific community.

All this was, honestly, easier said than done, because since the moment she stepped foot inside her new office, she received nothing but glares from her coworkers. Apparently, everyone was gutted about Anais’ replacement, and she tried really hard to be kind and explain that “no, Anais isn’t coming! But it’s a beautiful thing because she’s pregnant!!!! Dante sent me, I’m no Anais but I can try”, but, despite her big efforts, she was met with the indifference of the others.

She thought once on the field, the interviews would’ve gone a little better, because she was nice and she figured people loved nice, but as soon as she tried to talk to someone about this sighting, they recognized her immediately as a non-local (which apparently was a big deal) and refused to talk to her, feigning ignorance at her questions.

She felt defeated. And she started questioning for a bit whether moving to this small town was even a good idea in the first place.

Of course, she’d escaped from her ex and from the possibility of ever meeting him again, but was it worth it? In that moment, she couldn’t say.

When she returned to her office that Thursday afternoon, she tried to gather the little information she had gotten, but it wasn’t even close enough to write the introduction!, so she closed her laptop with a heavy sigh, full of her disappointment, and she promised the day after she’d do better.

The day after, YN decided to do what she did best back at her previous job, figuring maybe that the excessive responsibility had influenced her work. She decided she’d take a walk on the reserve and try and gather as many sources from the territory she could.

The bear had been spotted inside a terrain one hour down a three hour long pathway, which, for a wildlife animal, was pretty dangerous. She couldn’t even imagine what would happen if someone stumbled across the bear, and she truly feared for the animal’s life, knowing all too well human’s cruel nature.

The walk was tough, and the muscles in her legs were burning with fatigue. After about forty minutes of walking, she decided she’d stop at the first refuge she’d find, drink a little water and maybe even grab something hot to drink to warm up her freezing hands.

She spotted a cabin after a couple of miles, and she felt her heart jump happily in her chest at the thought of finally resting for a bit. She tossed her backpack into the ground and put away the little journal and pen she’d kept in handy to scribble down things she observed along the pathway.

Once inside the small cabin/cafe, she immediately felt her insides warming up. Everything was made out of wood, including the ceiling, and she observed how every chair had cute, fluffy blankets draped across the backrest.

The place was just what she needed after a really long and tiring walk, and she regarded with contentment how she was the only customer.

“Hello!” A shrilling voice called behind her, and she jumped in her place a little at the sound. She turned around immediately and she smiled at a blonde guy that was standing behind the counter. He was tying a blue apron behind his back and once he’d secured it, he cleaned his hands on its front, smiling warmly at her once their eyes met.

“Hi” she said, shyly, “could I get some hot cocoa, please?”

“Yes! Of course!!” He beamed, and YN wondered if she was maybe the first customer of the day or if he acted this way towards everyone that came in.

“Here or to go?”

“Here, thank you.”

“Okay! Just take a seat and I’ll bring it to you in a moment”.

YN nodded her head at his words and took place at a small table near a big window that overlooked the entire valley.

She’d been to the mountains just once with her family when she was very little, but she’d always dreamt of living in a slow-paced, small town, as opposed to the big city she left behind.

She loved the green and the sun shining high in the sky warming her skin, and she loved drinking hot drinks in spring. She wasn’t really a fan of the snow, though, that had always seemed to scare her, and she was happy she had both spring and summer to get through before the winter, and she figured she’d probably be accustomed to the place once it’d start snowing, so she decided not to worry too much about that now.

She fished out of her backpack her journal and started reading through her notes to see if there was something remotely good to start with.

unusual path for a bear

too many houses in proximity of the sighting

not much food can be found on the trail

(…)

She figured it was not much but a start nonetheless.

She was so engrossed by her notes she didn’t even hear the nice blonde guy approaching her, so when he placed the cup in front of her she jumped a little in her place.

“Woah, easy there! Yeh’re a jumpy thing, aren’t ya?” He giggled, pushing the cup in front of her as soon as she cast aside the journal.

She blushed immediately at his words, “sorry” she muttered.

“’S fine, didn’t mean to embarrass you”

She threw him a quick smile before glancing down at her hot chocolate, and she noticed happily that he had topped it with a big amount of whipped cream.

“Wait!” He chimed before she could take a sip of her drink, “forgot something.”

He ran back towards the kitchen and came out as quick as he went, holding a small, ceramic, plate in his hands.

He put it on the table in front of YN and smiled warmly at her, “Freshly made ginger biscuits!”

YN felt like crying.

This was the first time someone was so nice to her, and after the fiasco she went through with her interviews, she really could use someone that at least acknowledged her.

Of course, Harry had been nice, too, but in the days that had come, she’d seen less and less of him, and she’d started to wonder whether he was actually avoiding her.

“This is so good!!! Thank you” she beamed, finally feeling relaxed after what seemed like a long time but was actually just less than a week.

“Do you want to sit? If you’re not… busy?” She gestured to the empty seat in front of her and watched as he sat immediately in the chair, placing his elbows on the table.

“Usually there’s more people around but… you know, ’s rush hour, so…”

YN threw a glance at the clock on the wall, that ticked 3.58 pm. “Rush hour?” She asked, curiously.

“Oh! Yeah. I don’t where you’re from, but here, rush hour is at around 4 because everything closes at 5.30” he shrugged, stealing a cookie from the plate on the table between them.

YN nodded and took a sip from her drink, “shouldn’t there be more people if it’s rush hour?”

He furrowed his brows and cleaned his mouth from the cookie’s crumbles with the back of his hand, “no”.

YN nodded understandingly once again, even if she didn’t truly understand his thought process. She figured in small towns people lived differently.

“Are yeh here on vacation?” He asked her and she tried not to feel too disappointed that he understood right away that she wasn’t a local.

“No” she shook her head, “I moved here last Monday. I’m here for that bear sighting”

“Oh” she noticed his eyes widened, “nasty stuff that was! I hope that bear ’s long gone by now!”

She frowned at his words; she really would have liked seeing a real-life bear.

She chatted with him — she’d found out his name was Niall — for what felt like minutes but was actually an hour, and once she’d realized how late it had gotten, the sky had turned dark and gloomy, and she’d hurriedly collected her things and payed for her order, saying bye to Niall with the promise of coming more often. The clock ticked 5.13 pm and she figured it wouldn’t really be that dangerous to walk back home. It wasn’t late in the night, and despite the dark sky, it was still mid afternoon. So, after saying goodbye to Niall, she threw her backpack across her shoulder and started walking back.

Five minutes in her walk and she was already feeling uneasy. She hadn’t noticed at first but on the pathway there weren’t any lights, so she couldn’t see more than her own two feet; any little shadow or sound seemed to scare her, and it took her a lot of convincing to not just go back and ask Niall to take her home. The option had seemed tempting, but what could he really do? Close the cafe just because she was scared of the dark? and, despite talking his ear off all afternoon, who even was he? YN had a reputation for being easy going and able to make friends with pretty much everyone, but time had taught her that not everyone wanted to actually be her friend.

That thought made her think about Harry, and how she hadn’t seen him in almost five days. After he had played with Baguette in her home, she thought she had found if not a friend at least someone to hang out with, now that she was in a new place completely alone, but maybe, she’d figured, it was Harry that didn’t want to hang out with her. He had seemed pretty grumpy, but she’d seen through his facade pretty quickly, and she had thought he was actually nice. Now, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was just a one time thing.

She clutched the strap of her backpack extra tight as soon as she heard the sound of a car behind her, the headlights of the car illuminating her and the path before her. She shivered as the sudden thought of being alone on a street with no way of escaping came to her mind, and she picked up her pace to walk quicker. Beside her fear, there was also the question on how could someone drive in this particular pathway that, as she knew, was actually closed to cars.

She was wondering if the driver had some kind of permit, when the car — that actually seemed more like a pick up — stopped beside her. She unintentionally turned her head to look inside, and before she could say anything to the guy inside, he beat her to it: “what the hell are yeh doin’ here alone?”

She looked at Harry with wide eyes, her face half hidden behind the darkness of the sky, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was him and not someone who wanted to hurt her.

“I lost track of time” she said shyly, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously.

“Get in.” He ordered, and she saw him unlock the car doors with a button on the steering wheel.

“No, it’s okay! I can just walk, it’s not that far…”

“Get in!” He stressed, but, “please” he added, once he realized his tone may have come out a little too sternly.

“Okay” she whispered, wrapping her fingers around the handle of the car door and opening it. She threw her backpack on the car mat at the end of the seat and placed a hand on the car door to balance herself. The pick up was a little tall, so she had to literally climb inside the truck with her legs. She hoped she didn’t make too much of a fool out of herself.

He grabbed her arm to help her, and once she was settled in the seat, he let it go quickly, almost as if he was uncomfortable with touching her.

He didn’t say anything for a while, but YN noticed how he turned on the heat as soon as he saw her hugging herself against the cold.

The pickup was big, but she could still smell his perfume — or cologne? She didn’t know — lingering in the air.

YN stayed silent, not wanting to bother him, although it proved to be kind of difficult for her, because she wanted to ask him a lot of things.

She remembers thinking he was mad at her. She still doesn’t know why, and why in the world could he possibly be mad at her, but, still. Aaron used to get angry over the most silliest things, so she figured every guy was the same.

She almost caught herself asking him, but she remembered pretty quickly Aaron’s words: “not everyone wants to be your friend”.

She still had a little trouble understanding that.

She heard Harry clear his throat, and she wondered if he was about to talk, so she patiently waited. He didn’t. He seemed antsy, and YN noticed how tightly he was gripping the wheel, so, she decided to ease the tension between them with the thing she did best: asking questions.

“How are you allowed to drive here? Do you have some kind of permit? Because I researched the territory for my article and it strictly said ‘no cars allowed, must be on foot’, sooo… how can you? Are you some kind of… I don’t know — she shrugged, pouting her lips thoughtfully — are you some kind of boss, around here? That’s why people cook for you?”

Harry closed his brows in a furrow and brought his left hand up to massage his temple, “no” he simply said.

“What does ‘no’ mean?”

“It means no.” He said matter of factly.

“Ugghh — she huffed — I know what ‘no’ means! I was asking figuratively. Are you always this grumpy?”

“Thought yeh said I was nice” he grinned, a dimple denting his cheek.

“Forget it” she mumbled, turning her head to look outside the window; there wasn’t much to see, with all the darkness, but anything was better than looking at him.

“I’m not ‘some kind of boss’” he mocked her amused, glancing at her quickly before averting his gaze back on the road, “I own the terrain, so I can do whatever I want on it”.

YN turned her head to look back at him, wondering if he was making fun of her or if he was actually serious. He seemed serious.

“You own it?”

“Yeah” he nodded, amused by her reaction.

“I can’t believe it”

“Why?”

“This was were the bear was spotted! I could have asked you all along instead of interviewing people who closed the door in my face!” She pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“They really closed the door in your face?” He asked, furrowing his brows, the smirk disappearing from his face quickly and his lips closing in a tight line.

“Yeah” she huffed, “but it’s okay. I mean… I get it if they don’t want to talk to me but… I really need to do my job! I really wouldn’t bother them if it wasn’t necessary”

“They closed the door in your face. It’s not okay.” He said sternly, back to his old grumpy self, “who did you talk to?”

“Oh… that woman that lives in the first house right after the cafe. Wait. Do you know the cafe?”

Harry snickered at her question, “yeah, I heard of it”.

“Just her?” He added.

“No” she shook her head, “I talked to Mr. Donovan too. I remember his name because Matt Donovan is a character in one of my favorite series! So… pretty easy to remember. He was actually nice before I told him I was writing an article for a magazine. He closed the door without even saying bye” she shrugged.

“That’s not okay” he repeated.

“Well, it’s no problem at all now!!!! Because I can just ask you” she beamed, clapping her hands excitedly.

“No. I wasn’t here that weekend”

“What?” She asked, looking at him with big eyes.

Harry refrained himself from laughing. “Yeah.” He nodded, “i wasn’t here. Sorry”

“Great.” She groaned, tossing her arms in the air, her enthusiasm quickly dissolving.

She heard him laugh through his nose, “i’m taking the piss out of yeh. I was here”

“Oh thank god!” she sighed relieved, finally seeing some ray of sunshine coming her way, “you’re cruel! don’t ever do that again!” She pointed her finger at his face and then swatted his arm when she heard him chuckle.

thank you for reading!!!! i love you all, let me know if you'd like part 2 and what you want to see happen 💖

566 notes · View notes