#streaking grandmother | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelbwrry · 2 months

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let me in. toji zenin. 7k.

cw ᯓᡣ𐭩 nsfw links, choking, slapping, mouth-spitting[oops,not sorry] , unprotected sex, oral male + female , dirty talk, a little bit of ass eating, fingering, creaming, multiple orgasms, cream-pie, dirty talk ummmm i think that’s all! oh, toji is an emotionally unavailable boxer and you’re his project partner . . .

a/n ᯓᡣ𐭩 love this idea, might turn it into a bookkk.idk tho, anyways enjoy!

crimson droplets trickled down his pink lips, creating a stark, almost artistic contrast against the paleness of his skin. his breath is ragged, each exhale a testament to the raging fight within him.

his heart thunders against his chest, a relentless drum driven by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. his new white compression shirt, once pristine, now bore the scars of confrontation.

blood had seeped through the fabric, staining it with irregular patterns. the once clean shirt clung to his broad frame, damp with sweat. he could feel the sting of a split lip, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue.

a grin spread across his face, teeth coated with blood.

“you call that a punch? my grandmother packs harder than that.” toji sneers, wiping blood from his lips with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of red across his bruised knuckles.

“you think you’re tough shit zenin, let’s see if you talk that talk when you’re picking up your teeth from the ground.”

“i’m standing right here,” he smirks, voice laced with contempt as he takes a left lead stance.

just as expected, his opponent's face flushes with anger, muscles tensing at toji’s taunts.

his plan was working; he knew that anger clouded judgement, made moves sloppy and predictable.

“oh, don’t be shy.” toji’s grin widens as he continues picking.

his opponent charges with a roar, fists swinging wildly. toji remains calm, eyes never leaving his opponent. wait for it . . .at the perfect moment, toji executed a swift, calculated move,kicking his feet from underneath him with a precision that spoke of countless hours of training.

the ring seemed to tremble as his opponent hit the ground with a resounding thud. toji laughed, hands on his hips.

what a loser. he stands over the man, his plan had worked flawlessly, turning his rage into his own downfall.

for as long as he could remember, toji had been a fighter.

he vividly recalled the way he’d broken a kid’s nose on the first day of kindergarten, the shock and thrill of that first punch still fresh in his mind.

fighting was his way of releasing his pent-up anger against the world. every time he stepped into the ring, he felt a surge of power, a way to channel all his frustrations and rage into something tangible.

he enjoyed the way he could take all his frustrations out in the ring. the raw, unfiltered aggression that surged through him with every punch was intoxicating. the way his knuckles throbbed each time he threw a punch was a reminder of his own resilience.

every failure, every heartbreak, every whipping from his father while his mother watched, he let it all out in the ring. it was a catharsis, a way to purge the demons that haunted him.

he reveled in his own resistance, the way he could take hit after hit and still stand tall. the money was a nice touch too, a bonus that came with the thrill of the fight. but it was never just about the money.

it was about the chaos, the pain, the sheer physicality of it all. he fought because he wanted to, because he needed to. the truth was simple and stark: fighting was his way of surviving, of staying alive in a world that had always tried to break him.

"ugh, fuck," toji curses as he snaps his nose back into place, clenching his fist to stop himself from punching something. it's the aftermath of the fight, and toji's in his small apartment patching himself up.

he wasn't an amateur, but he had to admit that guy had the best of him for a second. he's sporting a bloody nose and deep bruising under his left eye. nothing major, but he knew his body would feel it in a few hours now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

he tosses the bloody tissue in the sink, staring at himself in the mirror, a fresh cut on his lip still oozing. he pulls his eyes away after a few seconds, unable to face the reflection of his battered self any longer.

"fuck, i'm gonna be late for class," he mutters, glancing at the clock. professor brown was already down his throat for all his absences, and he knew he'd get yet another talking to as soon as he stepped into the classroom.

he quickly finishes patching himself up, slipping on a black hoodie and sweats. he grabs his backpack, the weight of his textbooks feeling like a burden he couldn't shake.

♡︎

every step towards the lecture hall felt like a march towards another round of disappointment. as he walked, his mind raced with thoughts of the fight, the adrenaline, the pain.

he couldn't do this forever. eventually, it would catch up to him.

but for now, he had to keep moving, keep pretending that college was the answer. society had drilled it into his head from a young age. get a degree, get a good job, live a good life.

but what if that wasn't his path? what if he was just wasting his time?

he sighed, pushing the door open and bracing himself for the inevitable lecture from professor brown. one step at a time, he reminded himself. maybe one day, something would make sense.

“nice of you to join us mister zenin.”

“pleasure to be here,” toji mutters sarcastically, finding his usual seat in the classroom. mr. brown shakes his head before continuing the lesson, his bored voice like nails in toji’s head.

the older man’s voice drones on, a stack of crisp papers in his hand.

"alright, everyone, we're going to be working in teams for this project. i'll be assigning the pairs, so listen up."

you groaned inwardly. you hated group projects, especially when you didn't get to choose your partner. you glanced around the room, hoping for a miracle.

“y/n and toji," he announced, looking up from his list.

your heart sank. you turned to look at toji zenin; he was already staring at you with those steel dark blue eyes, his expression unreadable. he looked like shit—his eye was bruised underneath, and his lip sported a jagged cut.

"great," you muttered under your breath. "just what i needed." toji zenin could barely make it to class on time, how the hell did your professor expect you to work with someone so. . . incompetent.

toji wouldn’t know the meaning of academic achievement if it smacked him in the face, and you refused to let your grade suffer at the hands of him.

toji scoffed, catching your words. "don't sound too excited, princess."

"oh, i'm thrilled," you shot back, rolling your eyes. "i can't wait to do double the work because you can't even show up to class on time." you knew your words were mean, but you didn’t care.

"hey, i show up. . .sometimes," he said, leaning back in his chair with a lazy grin.

“besides,you might learn something from me.”

"like how to get into fights and skip class?" you snapped.

“thanks but no thanks.”

god, toji hated stuck-up females. and that’s exactly what you were being—stuck-up. the two of you had never really interacted, and you had nothing in common. you were an a-list student, and toji was the complete opposite.

he wasn’t thrilled to be working with you, not when there was a stick lodged up your ass. his jaw clenched as he held back the urge to say something snarky.

every time he looked at you, it was like a reminder of everything he despised: perfection, arrogance, and that holier-than-thou attitude. he couldn't stand it. but there you were, thrown together for this project, and he had to deal with it.

the thought of breaking through that icy exterior, seeing you crack, was oddly enticing. maybe, just maybe, there was a different side to you, one that wasn’t so damn perfect.

he wondered if he could fuck the attitude out of you. something stirred deep within him. the idea of seeing you vulnerable, of breaking through that facade, was almost. . . sexy.

the teacher cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. "i expect you both to work together and contribute equally. this project is a significant part of your grade. details will be sent to everyone’s emails so keep an eye out.”

you sighed, knowing you were stuck.

you glanced at toji again, trying to read his expression, but it remained stoic. this was going to be a long semester. you were relieved when the bell finally rang.

gathering your things, you couldn’t wait to step into your hot shower and let the day's worries wash away. you pushed your way through the dense crowd making it outside, humming in bliss as you felt the warm sun beaming down on your brown skin.a stark contrast from the cold,plain clsssroom.

your face scrunched in disdain as you heard his voice. you peered over your shoulder, watching him shove his way to you with a raised hand in the air.

“shit, you walk fast. shouldn’t we exchange numbers? if we’re partners.” he huffed, trying to catch his breath.

you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, “i’ll do it, i’ll put your name on the paper.”

he steps closer to you and you can’t help but hitch a breath, you never noticed how menacingly tall he is. he’s at least six-foot-three, broad, he’s a damn giant. you gulp thickly as his cologne catches your nose, a mixture of vanilla and musk. fuck, your weakness for a good smelling man is surfacing.

his eyes gaze at you, and you’ve never noticed how beautiful they are up close, a blue and grey swirling together in harmony.

now that you’re up close you can see his injures better too.you want to question it, but decide not to.

“i want to help,” he demands, crossing his arms across his chest. you try to ignore the way your stomach churns at the tattoos peeking from underneath his hoodie.

you don’t feel like getting into yet another squabble and decide to just hand over your number, “only for project related things, toji.”

he laughs, it’s deep and guttural and you try to ignore the heat growing between your legs. you know toji is no damn good, his entire aura screams danger.

but damn, he was a sight for sore eyes. maybe having him around for the project wouldn’t be so bad, you’d enjoy the eye candy. but that’s the only thing he was, eye candy. you refused to let yourself get sucked up with whatever toji zenin had going on.

you’re surprised he even wants to pull his weight with this project, most people would’ve snatched up the offer without merely a second thought. his large hands hold your phone, making it look like a toy as he types his number and contact in.

“there,” he hands your phone back and you muster out a thanks.

“so,” toji buries his hands in his pockets, “how’re you getting home?”

“my roommate is gonna pick me up, what’s it to you?” you quip an eyebrow at him.

he shrugs, “can’t a guy be curious?”

“hm, i guess—“ the vibration of your phone interrupts you. it’s probably your roommate, ren, announcing her arrival.

ren<3 im soooo sorry, i won’t be able to pick u up

fuck.

toji can feel your mood shift.

“everything okay?”

you puff, “no. my fucking friend bailed on picking me up.”

“i don’t mind taking you home, where do you stay?”

you peer up at toji through your eyelashes, biting the inside of your cheek. you weigh the pros and cons, it’d take you an hour and a half if you walked, and the summer heat was sweltering. the pros outweighed the cons and you find yourself nodding. . . what’s the worst that can happen?

“right off of drury lane.”

toji can’t stop the mischievous smile that plays on his lips as you follow him to the parking lot. you’re surprised when he stops in front of a sleek black motorcycle. of course he’d have a bike, he’s practically a walking bad-boy cliché.

you eye the bike warily, you’ve never actually ridden a bike. partly because you never had the opportunity, the other half because you didn't want to become roadkill. toji notices you staring at the bike, he nudges your shoulder gently with his.

"don’t tell me you've never ridden a motorcycle," he teases, a playful challenge in his tone. you chew on your bottom lip, adjusting your book bag on your shoulder, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"don't worry, it's not as scary as it looks," he offers you a warm smile, handing you his helmet. "just hold on tight."

the helmet is heavy in your hands, toji makes it look so damn light.

“what about your helmet?” you ask.

“well, wasn’t planning on having another passenger so i don’t have one.”

“toji, that’s dangerous, what if you get hurt?”

he smiles, eyes gleaming. “look at my face, do you honestly think i’m worried about getting hurt? get on the bike y/n.”

sucking in a breath, you nodded and placed the helmet on. god, please don’t let this man crash with me on his bike. as the motorcycle roared to life beneath you, you pressed yourself against him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his solid frame.

the vibrations of the engine sent a thrill through you, but it was the feel of his abs, taut and defined under your fingertips, that truly set your heart racing.

your cheek resting against the helmet as you rested your head on his back. each muscle seemed to ripple with every slight movement.

you couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between his tough exterior and the vulnerability you’d seen in his eyes moments ago.

focus, you reminded yourself, trying to steady your breathing. but it was impossible to ignore the intoxicating mixture of danger and excitement that came with being so close to him.

the wind whipped past you, and you tightened your grip, feeling the warmth of his body through the thin barrier of your clothes.

as the motorcycle sped down the winding road, toji’s thoughts were a whirlwind of sensations and emotions. this is freedom, he mused, feeling the raw power of the machine beneath him. the roar of the engine, the rush of the wind—it’s like nothing else.

but then there’s you, pressed so closely against him, your arms wrapped securely around his torso.

he could feel your heartbeat, he realized, a small smile tugging at his lips. the way you clung to him, it was both a comfort and a distraction. fuck, your touch messed with his mind, his cock pressing against his boxers uncomfortably.

focus on the road, he commanded himself, but it was hard to ignore the warmth of your body and the way you fit perfectly against him.

the familiar scenery of your quiet neighborhood eased your nerves, you’d made it back home in one piece. maybe toji’s driving wasn’t as ass as you thought. a part of you was sad the ride was over, don’t get involved with this man y/n.

the bike comes to a halt, though still shudders with vibrations underneath you. you notice your arms are still wrapped around toji and you quickly retract, feeling your neck warm as you slide off the bike. you hate how he makes you feel like a school girl all over again, your clammy palms pressing against your flared denim jeans.

toji watches you shift under his gaze, he can tell he makes you nervous. he can’t help but grip the handles of his motorcycle as you remove his helmet, your messy hair fumbling across your shoulders. shit, you look so pretty. were you always this pretty? your honey blonde highlighted hair swishes with the wind, and he picks up the scent of cinnamon.

“t-toji, your nose is bleeding.”

confusion etched on his face. he swiped a hand under his nose and stared at the blood on his fingers. “shit,” he muttered, shaking his head as if to clear it.

why now, he thought, of all times?

your concern deepened as you saw how much blood was pouring out. “come inside, i have a first aid kit,” you offered, motioning towards your apartment.

he shook his head vehemently, pinching his nose and tilting his head back. “i don’t need your pity. i’m fine,” he snapped, his tone suddenly harsh.

you were taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanor. for a moment, you considered walking away, but then you saw the pain in his eyes, masked by his bravado.

ignoring his outburst, you stepped closer. “it wasn’t a fucking question,” you snapped back, grabbing his keys from his motorcycle engine before he could react.

he grunted in annoyance, glaring at you. “fine,” he muttered, clearly irritated but too exhausted to argue further. he hated how stubborn you were, how you wouldn’t take no for an answer. but somewhere, deep down, he was grateful.

as you walked towards your apartment, you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him. his tough exterior was starting to crack, and you were determined to find out what lay beneath. he, on the other hand, was torn between wanting to push you away and the strange comfort your presence brought.

the bathroom was cramped, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood. you stood over him, your hands gentle but firm as you cleaned his bloody nose. the sink was full of crimson-stained tissues, and he cursed under his breath.

“don’t be such a baby,” you said, rolling your eyes. easy for you to say, he thought, trying to ignore the way his stomach twisted with you so close. the sweet scent of cinnamon from your skin stirred his senses, making it hard to focus.

as you leaned over him, your breasts were practically spilling from your v-necked crop top. he could see the edge of your brown nipple peeking out, sending his mind into a spiral. he wanted to fuck you so bad.

“what’s the deal with all these injuries anyways?” you asked, examining his busted bottom lip.

you quirked an eyebrow at his silence. “you in the mafia or something, zenin?” you joked.

he couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at his lips. “maybe, maybe not. guess i’ll have to keep you on your toes,” he chuckled, shifting uncomfortably on the toilet seat.

you hummed, clearly not satisfied with his deflecting answer but deciding not to push further. you threw the bloody tissue in the trash bin before washing your hands.

“so, how do you even know how to properly tend wounds?”

“my mom was a nurse, taught me a lot. would’ve chosen it as a career, but, i can’t stand seeing people hurt. guess i’m too much of an empath, so i chose business.”

he’s quiet, soaking in the information.

“you know, you could at least try to be more careful.i don’t know exactly what you do but it doesn’t seem safe,” you add.

“who’re you to tell me what to do?” he shoots, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“calm down. i’m just tired of seeing you come to class looking like you’ve been through a fucking meat grinder,” you snapped, crossing your arms.

“you should mind your business,” he retorted, his eyes narrowing.

you glared at him, your jaw clenched. “really? is it such a crime that i’m worried about you?”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “look, i- it’s just... complicated.”

“right,well i’m done. your keys are by the door.”you muttered, turning away from him.

you thought you were getting somewhere with the closed-off man, but clearly, you were wrong. you didn’t know why you even cared about him. he pushed past you, and you could hear the roar of his motorcycle a couple moments later.

working with him was going to be impossible.

♡︎

your fuzz-covered sock feet were tucked underneath you as you sat on the floor crisscrossed, writing notes for your project. it had been about two and a half weeks since toji stormed out on you, he’d apologized a day after. you wondered if he had bpd, had to with the way he was constantly shifting moods.

the pink gel pen glided across the paper effortlessly, the soft scribbles droned out by brent faiyaz. you brushed a strand of hair from your face, grabbing your chopsticks and taking a bite of your hibachi noodles.

“i can help, y’know. i’m not a total jarhead,” toji spoke up, nursing a cup of rice in hand as he looked at you, a playful glint in his eyes. he’d been so quiet you forgot he was even here.

“really? could’ve fooled me.” you muttered, ignoring the way his eyes burned into you.

he quipped an eyebrow. “wow, you think that little of me?” he pressed his hand against his chest, feigning to be hurt.

“yep.” you popped your lips on the p,sketching out a picture.

you were initially hesitant when toji had first asked if he could come over so you two could work on the project, especially after his last outburst. but, you didn’t really have a choice. if he decided to be petty and tell your professor you were refusing to let him work on the project that’d be your ass. he didn’t strike you as a snitch type, but you didn’t put it past him.

so every weekend, he would come over and work. scratch that—watch you work. you’d given up on actually trying to read him; he was so damn cagey. maybe he actually was part of the mafia. surprisingly, he’d been to class on time lately. much to your annoyance, he’d sit next to you every day. a part of you thought he was warming up to you.

he never would tell you where the bruises came from, no matter how hard you’d press him. it seemed like a regular occurrence where his nose would bleed and you’d be patching him up, a part of your weekend routine now it seemed. you’d mentioned you were hungry and he’d dashed some hibachi; it was a sweet gesture, but your guard was still up.

you peer up at him as he stands to his feet, stretching. the way his muscles ripple under his black compression shirt is almost hypnotic. you can't help but feel a growing heat between your legs as you catch a glimpse of his sharp v-line. the sight is so tantalizing that you quickly snatch your eyes away, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

he plops down next to you, his legs brushing against yours. the contact sends an unexpected shiver up your spine, making you hyper-aware of his presence.

“i said i’ll help.” he grabs the pen from your hand with a swift motion. you glare at him, reaching out to reclaim the pen. curse his long ass arms; he's holding it just out of your reach, teasing you with that infuriating grin of his. he seems to relish watching you struggle, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“toji, quit!” you huff, stretching again to grab the pen. in your effort, you lose your balance and fall against his chest. your breath hitches as his scent envelops you, a mix of something woodsy and masculine that makes your head spin. your heart is pounding in your chest now, each beat echoing in your ears.

fuck, why’re are you feeling like this?

“do i make you nervous y/n?” his eyes peer into yours as you finally sit up,flustered.

“n-no.”

“your heartbeat says otherwise.”

he can tell he makes you nervous, from the way you're always shifting under his gaze. he has to admit, you're a beautiful woman—extremely stuck up, but beautiful nonetheless. your hair, usually styled to perfection, is down tonight, framing your face in soft waves. you're wearing a matching two-piece set that hugs your curves in all the right places, and his eyes can't help but ogle your breasts, which threaten to spill out with every breath you take.

he notices the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, a clear sign of your nervousness. the delicate fabric of your outfit clings to your skin, accentuating your figure. his gaze lingers on the swell of your breasts, the way they strain against the fabric, almost as if they're begging for release. your beauty is undeniable, and even though he finds your attitude infuriating, he can't deny the magnetic pull he feels towards you.

as you shift uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, he smirks, enjoying the effect he has on you. it's a game to him, watching you squirm, knowing that despite your aloof exterior, he's getting under your skin.

“didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare.”

in a swift motion, he reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him. before you could protest, he pressed a firm kiss against your lips, silencing you.

for a moment, the tension melted away, replaced by the raw, undeniable connection between you.

your mind screamed for you to pull away, but when he hooked his fingers into your face and pulled you deeper into his embrace you couldn’t help but drape your arms around his neck.

you knew there was no going back after this, toji fucking zenin was trouble and now you’d been sucked in.

you gasp in shock as toji lifts you up, your legs instinctively hooking around his waist. it takes you by surprise; you weren't exactly built like barbie. your arousal grows, finding this extremely attractive as he kneads your thighs through your pants.

"so damn thick, i've been dying to do this," he murmurs against your tingling lips.

you shudder as your back collides with the wall, the sound of a glass frame falling and crashing against the floor.you don’t care, your head is light with the way toji kisses you,hungrily against the wall, fingertips digging into your skin.

his tongue sought entrance and you immediately parted your lips, allowing him to explore your mouth feverently.

you can’t help but moan as his tongue dances with yours, each movement like a shock.your hands find the nape of his neck and then his hair,stomach clenching at the whine as you tug.you can feel your pussy dripping with arousal as his cock presses against you.

"please, i need you," you whine breathlessly into his mouth.

a smirk tugs at his lips. "you like to act all high and mighty, yet i've barely touched you and you're already begging me to touch your pussy." he lowers you, fingers deftly pulling at the hem of your pants.

you swallow thickly, watching as he pulls the fabric down your thighs. you shiver as he kisses your thighs, fingers looping around your underwear and pulling them down.

his mouth waters at the sight of your arousal seeping down your leg. he can't help but run his tongue along the sticky trail, making you moan softly as your head falls back against the wall.

"lay on the bed, ass up," he commands, tapping your thigh.

you waste no time getting on the bed, stomach pressed against the sheets as you arch your back in anticipation. you can feel the bed dip with his weight and your stomach flips; fuck, you're so horny it's unbearable.

"oh my fucking god," you whine out, feeling his tongue press flat against your throbbing clit. you want to scream as his tongue moves over you slowly, lapping up your juices, savoring the way you taste.

you're so damn tasty, and he can't help but pull his throbbing dick from his sweats. one hand strokes himself while the other digs into your ass, holding you in place as he eats you out.

your moans are like music to his ears as he slurps, airy and light, making his cock twitch in his hand.

"mm’nn, o-oh," you mewl in pleasure, feeling his tongue flick over your throbbing bud. it's been so long since you'd been touched like this; toji knows, he can tell by the way you're shaking.

"look how you're falling apart." toji murmurs against you, pulling you deeper into his face by your ass. he moans into you as he strokes himself, large hands sliding up and down his veiny cock. he sucks you with the same rhythm he's stroking himself, his moans vibrating against you.

he doesn’t mind the way you’re dripping down his face; if anything, it makes him harder. he has you in the palm of his hand and knows it—hell, even you know it. your eyes squeeze shut as his slick tongue pushes past your lips, exploring you further. you curse softly, back arching as you grip the sheets.

he’s devouring you like a starved man, knots filling your stomach as he swirls his tongue inside you.

the room is filled with the wet sounds of his ravaging. he can’t help but lose himself as he massages his swollen tip, jaw clenching with each lick of your throbbing pussy.

“eating me s-s-so good,” you cry out, spurring him on. he tucks himself back his pants and grasps your round ass with both hands, groaning at how soft your brown skin is under his calloused hands. he pulls your cheeks apart, admiring the messy sight. you’re so damn wet, and he loves the way he can see your pussy pulsating.

he braces his arms further onto the bed, tongue now swirling over your center quickly. you cry out, feeling his fast movements over your sensitive pussy.

"grind on me," toji husks, reveling in the way your pussy lips drag across his face. tears brim your eyes as you move slowly, mouth agape in pleasure at the sensation. his slight stubble has your stomach twisting as it pricks you.

"mm’fuck," you sob as toji explores you, his tongue dancing around the rim of your asshole and it’s hard to ignore the way your stomach is tightening.

"let’s stretch this pretty thing out,hm." he hums,sliding his pointer and index finger through your folds.

tears finally spill from your eyes as toji moves roughly, "your fingers are s-so l-ong," you whine, feeling them against your cervix.

“you’re so tight, hope i don’t break you. ” he grins, pressing a wet kiss on your quivering thigh.

you shudder at the sensation, “m’not fragile,” you shakily breathe out, body jutting forward each time toji pushes his fingers back into you. his hand is coated in your juices, your wet cunt pulling at him enticingly.

“oh yeah?” he challenges, curving his fingers at your hilt and attaching his lips to your asshole. your eyes snap closed, enjoying the way the knot grows in your stomach as toji pushes you towards the edge.

“you gonna cum?” toji asks, and you can hear the cockiness in his voice.

you whimper, “n-no,”

“liar,” he grunts, “tell that to your greedy pussy clamping down on me.”

one last swirl of his tongue, and a prod of his fingers, and your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. toji’s fingers don’t let up; he’s still working you roughly, not ready to pull his fingers out of your wetness.

“s-sensitive, please—“ you gasp out, finding it hard to grasp your words at the sensation.

“thought you weren’t fragile,” toji sneers behind you.

“m’fk off,” you sob, fisting the sheets.

“cumming on my fingers yet still so damn feisty,” he mocks, a smirk evident in his voice.

you’re seeing stars as toji fucks you, you’re so damn sore that your cervix is crying. you whine as toji finally pulls his fingers out, he can’t help but pop his fingers into his mouth, moaning as your juices coat his tongue.

he could eat you for hours.

your eyes feel heavy as your orgasm dissolves. “unt unt, not so fast, sleepy,” toji’s hand cracking over your flesh. you wince and meet his gaze, his face soaked in your juices, your clit throbs at the sight. you need him buried inside of you, immediately.

you slide off the bed, trying to ignore the way your legs feel like jelly. damn, this man is a certified munch. he smiles in amusement, watching you struggle to walk.

“you gonna undress me, baby?” he teases.

you nod, fingers playing at the hem of his dark shirt before pulling it over his head. you could drop to your knees now. almost every inch of his toned body is inked, contrasting beautifully with his pale skin. he’s so damn built, you’re sure every muscle has a muscle.

why the fuck does he always hide behind hoodies? he’s gorgeous.

“you’re so pretty,” you mumble, dropping to your knees and pulling his pants down. you can see his bulge pressing against his underwear, a slight wet stain from his pre-cum.

you hook your fingers beneath the band and pull them down, his cock smacking you across the face. he’s huge, and you’re regretting your remark about not being fragile. he’s at least eight inches, thick girth making you clench your legs shut.

“you scared?” he hums, hands finding your hair.

“no.” you lie, yet again.

“right, open your mouth, pretty.”

you obey.

toji groans loudly as he sinks into your mouth. you struggle to take him and grip the back of his thighs.

“fuck,” toji breathily whines, hips slowly rocking into your mouth.

“so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he grunts, pushing back his hair from his face. you can only gurgle as he thrusts into you, soft strains of curses fumbling from his pretty lips.

your nails dig into the back of his thighs as he picks up speed. he’s so fucking deep in your throat you cry out, but it’s muffled by his dick.

his hands rest on the side of your head as he moves it to his own pace. he tilts your head back and groans as he feels himself hit the back of your throat.

the wet sounds emanating from you as he rocked his hips were incredibly lewd, making him twitch as he heard you struggle to accommodate him.

“fuck,” he swallows thickly, resisting the urge to go berserk on your mouth. your tongue swirls over his veiny dick each time he pulls out, you love the way his thighs tremble each time. you also love the way he’s vocal; not a lot of men are.

but toji’s not afraid to vocalize the pleasure he’s receiving.

he groans each time he feels his tip prod against the back of your throat. fuck, if he keeps going, he’ll nut in your mouth.

you gaze up at him, stomach clenching at the sight. his thick eyebrows are furrowed over rolled-back eyes, his mouth slightly ajar as you suck him.

he’s so damn beautiful.

his balls smack you each time he pushes back in. you let one of his thighs go and massage them between your fingers.

he cries out, legs threatening to buck from pleasure. your face is a saliva-covered mess as toji continues to fuck your face; you probably look like a slut, but you don’t care. you only care about making him cum.

he’s holding your hair in a clenched fist, watching in admiration as his spit-covered dick slides in and out of your mouth. he throbs at the sight, you’re so fucking sexy ugh.

“sucking m s’good.” he watches as you pop him out of your mouth, hands gliding vertically over his base as your mouth works his tip.

the wet gush of your hands on him is music to your ears, your hands now cupped in an ‘o’ shape. his inked abs glisten with sweat as he bucks his hips into your embrace , lips caught between his teeth.

your eyes catch his, they’re filled with lust and praise. his usually gray blue eyes are so dark they almost look black. his dick twitches in your hand, clearly loving the eye contact.

“such a pretty face, i wanna nut on it.” toji gasps softly, head lulling back as you jerk him faster. he’s full-on moaning now, he can’t hold them back anymore. you’re stroking him at the perfect speed.

a smirk plays on your lips,”so close already?”

toji’s jaw clenches and he pulls you to your feet immediately.

“so tired of you.”

“so fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, sporting a cheeky smile.

before you can comprehend, toji’s man spread on the bed and you’re in reverse cowgirl. a hiss fumbles from his mouth as you grip his base, “fucking teas—“ his words catch in his throat as you glide your slick pussy across him. his head suddenly feels heavy, and he aches at the idea of being inside of you.

your pussy is sticky and warm, the heat making him moan. you love the way his thighs shake each time you push his tip into your entrance and pop him back out, a trail of fluids glistening on his flushed tip.

your lips curl inwardly as you slowly sink down on him, sucking in a deep breath as he stretches you out painfully.

“it hurts,” you shake, shifting at the unfamiliar feeling.

“just a little bit more to take,” he coaxes, hands rubbing your back tenderly. you nod and sink onto him fully, mouth falling agape as you can practically feel him in your fucking stomach.

it takes a few seconds to let yourself settle around him. once you’re adjusted you begin moving.

“shitttt,” he drawls out, watching your brown ass bounce on him. you clutch the sheets for better grip, riding him with agility. toji can only moan as you fuck him.

it’s supposed to be the other way around. he’s supposed to be fucking you, but the way your greedy pussy is latching onto him . . .mmm.

“good ass pussy,”

he watches as your lips suckle around his cock as you slide up and down, his toes curls. you can feel his tip prodding into you deeply each time you descend, and it’s hard to keep from sobbing out.

his dick is so fat and your poor pussy is being pushed to its limits, but you don’t care.

“s-so deep,” you yelp, trying to keep your head up as you steadily move onto him. your back is slick with sweat as you move, a soft plap plap plap sound filling the room as your ass bounces against him.

“guess you’re not fragile after all, m’fuck,” toji grunts deeply as you twerk on his tip. if you keep it up he’ll be cumming in no time, it’s something about the way your ass bounces . . . mm mm mm.

you moan at his moans, quickening your pace as you ride him. your legs shake with each thud of his dick and you chew your lip to keep from shrieking.

your body is going to hate you tomorrow.

“look at that, creamin’ on my cock,” toji hums in contempt, watching the white substance build on his dick and stick to his pubes.

“c-creaming just for you,” you choke out, you don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice. you’re in so much bliss you don’t care about the mess you’re causing , you’ll be embarrassed later.but,for now you’re desperate to cum.

your back arches in pleasure, eyes watering as you roll your hips on toji. his large hand delivers sharp smacks to your ass, eliciting cries from your lips with each hit , head finally drifting forward in a state of euphoria.

“mm, s-so good,” he hisses through clenched teeth, watching as you raise your hips up just enough that his tip stays in,before pushing his length back into you, pussy visibly gripping his dick each time you raise your hips back up.

“look at you taking all of me like a big girl. you’re so fucking sexy,” toji appreciates.your stomach flips at his gratification.

your arms shake underneath you, struggling to hold yourself up as pleasure racks your body. you endure, focusing on toji’s moans as you slam down on him.

you’re so drunk off his dick.

“o-oh my g-god,” you mewl, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach. you hate that you’re close so fast, but the way he feels against your walls is driving you insane.

“so close already?” toji bites down a moan, using your own words against you. you want to say something snarky, but the words won’t leave your mouth; you can only grind your hips against him, desperately.

“let me finish you off,” he mutters breathlessly, you nod,and he curses softly as you slowly pull off of him, his hard cock bouncing off his stomach. he gazes at your gaping hole, cream trailing out as your pussy pulsates.

toji has you in missionary before you know it, pounding into you at inhuman speed as he holds your calves over your head. his silver chain swings enticingly in your face.

you look so pretty to him, eyes screwed shut as he drills into your quivering cunt, hair clinging to your face, lip caught between your teeth as small whimpers escape.

your legs shake with each deep thrust , ass lifting off the bed with each movement. spots intrude your vision as toji thuds into you. “mm’ so wet,” toji drawls out, enjoying the sounds you’re making.

toji slows his thrusts, continually pushing into you deeply but slower. he lowers your legs and you take the opportunity to hook them around his waist, pulling him deeper into you.

“fuck,” he whines, lowering himself down to kiss you. your lips meet his passionately, arms draping around his neck.

your moans are soft in his ear, between your ass clapping against his thighs and the feel of your nails in his hair he’s in bliss.

“you feel so good,” you gasp as toji begins to lift his hips slightly so that he can feel you deeper, a breathy "shit" uttering from his lips. whenever he speaks in that deep voice you want to suck his dick,yes again. it’s so sexy and guttural.

“you like when i'm deep inside you like this?” he whispers, hands spreading your cheeks causing you to gulp down a groan. you nod, a whimper leaving your lips.

he moans at the sultry whimper, your square acrylic nails scratching at his back now. tears spot your vision as you try to pull away from him, overwhelmed by the pleasure. toji shakes his head,pinning you in place.

“unt unt, take this shit.”

a loud slap across your round ass.

his hand wraps around your throat, and you feel a slight pressure as he chokes you gently. your breath quickens, and a wave of pleasure washes over you, making your stomach clench.

"you like that, don't you?" he whispers in your ear, his voice husky and filled with desire.

you nod, your eyes half-lidded with pleasure. his hand moves swiftly, delivering a light slap to your face. it’s not hard enough to hurt, but the sudden sting and the unexpectedness of it make your core throb with excitement.

“so fucking sexy.”

he puckers your mouth, holding it open as he leans in closer. you feel a mix of anticipation and curiosity, your heart racing. then, he spits into your mouth, and to your surprise, a surge of excitement rushes through you.

your eyes widen slightly, and you swallow, feeling an odd thrill that you hadn't expected. the act is strangely intimate, and it ignites a fire within you. he watches your reaction closely, a smirk playing on his lips as he sees the effect it has on you.

"good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. the words send a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself wanting more, completely captivated by the intensity of the moment.

you can feel that familiar tingling sensation in your stomach and know you’re close. you want to scream when he pushes into your g-spot,his eyes glisten.

“got you,this is where you’re weak right?”

he drills into that spot until you’re coming undone. he wraps his hands in yours, teary eyes meeting his as he encourages you.

“it’s okay, cum on me. it’s yours.” he husks, burying his face in your neck as he squeezes your hands through your high. you’re exhausted, as toji fucks you through yet another orgasm.

he’s nearing his end, and another push of his hips sends his trembling dick over the edge. thick ropes of semen decorate your pink walls, thick creampie oozing out. he curses and shudders, hands pulling out of yours.

the mattress dips as he lays beside you, chest heaving. he stiffens when you cuddle into his side. it seems like forever as he lays there with you, you’re still curled into his side and he can’t bring himself to embrace you.

he’s relieved when he hears your soft snores.

he feels like an asshole when he gently slides from underneath you, praying you don’t wake up as he pulls his clothes on. he can’t get attached to you, he corrupts everything he touches and he doesn’t want that for you. he knows he’s a mess, he’s trouble.

he also knows you’ll be pissed when you wake up and see his text message,

sorry, but you’ll have to find a new partner.

he tells himself it’s for the best as he starts his motorcycle, besides, he barely knows you.

but the unfamiliar pang in his chest says otherwise. he can't shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, he’s falling for you.

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creepswrites · 1 year

Note

Dear, writter

May i've a request for Thomas hewitt, Bubba Sawyer,bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, and Vince Sinclair, With a hot wife fem reader, I want to see their life being a father to a hot fem reader. Because that is my dream. 💫Fluff💫

Please.... Your writing is so gorgeous 💋💋 master 🌹🌹🌹

Thank you so much

From your followers:

@kawaistrawberry21

awww i'm glad you like my writing!! hopefully you enjoy this :D

SLASHERS with a F! S/O who is their hot wife

THOMAS HEWITT

Everyone in town was shocked when you and Thomas got married

Thomas included but he never said anything about it

His family thought you were way out of his league, Hoyt was never afraid to comment on this to your face

But you love Thomas, he was a good man

So when he'd finally, finally, proposed to you, of course you'd said yes

When he found out you were having his child? He was over the moon

Luda May was almost as overjoyed, already making arrangements for the baby's room, making clothes, etc

She couldn't wait to be a grandmother and Thomas couldn't wait to be a father

When the baby's due date was getting closer, you could tell Thomas was nervous about if the baby would come out looking like him

But you reassured him that, no matter what your baby looked like, you would love it the same way you loved him

He was good with the baby, so gentle and patient, always happy to help when it cried

If Hoyt ever tried to give either of you a hard time, Thomas actually violently defended you, sometimes tossing Hoyt across the room with one arm

He'd never let anything hurt you or your baby

BUBBA SAWYER

Like Thomas, everyone was surprised when you and Bubba got married

Though his family were far more excited about it! After all, their brother was quite the catch

You got along well with his family even before you moved in, with Chop Top and Nubbins always commenting to Bubba how lucky he was to have such a hot wife

It always made your husband get all flustered, babbling soft nonsense. He was cute

When you got pregnant, Bubba and the Sawyer family were over the moon

Family was extremely important to them and they were happy for you and Bubba

When Nubbins made a very ugly little hat for the baby, you accepted it but told him gently it'd be too big for their head but that you'd grow into it. He was excited about that prospect

Chop Top and Drayton helped Bubba set up the nursery so you could just relax

And when the baby was born, Bubba was so scared of holding something so fragile and precious

But you helped him, guiding his arms to hold the baby, and he was in shock and awe

He'd never thought he'd get married, much less to someone as gorgeous as you, and have a child together

Bubba was a nervous father, usually letting your kid get away with anything so you had to be the rule-setter when it came to the kid

His brothers were menaces when it came to babysitting their niece or nephew

But both you and Bubba were happy. He'd protect you both, no matter what

BO SINCLAIR

Honestly? This was a major win in Bo's mind

If you think he doesn't show off for you, you're wrong. That man takes every opportunity to

He also definitely flexed to his brothers about scoring the hottest wife ever

Of course, his brothers were very nice and respectful with you, though Bo wouldn't let them be too friendly

He's got a jealousy streak

Whenever visitors arrive to Ambrose, he's always got his arm around you or bragging about you when you're not around

He's whipped, you've got him wrapped around your finger

But when you tell him your pregnant, you're shocked at how scared he becomes

Of course, he doesn't show it visibly, but you know your husband and you can tell when he's nervous about something

Eventually, when he starts trying to pull away from you, you corner him and make him talk

Some yelling and fighting ensues but he caves, confessing he's scared he wouldn't be a good father. I mean, he didn't exactly have the best role model and he didn't want you or your babies to suffer for it

But you reminded him you were in this together and he'd relax a little

You had twins, because of course you did, but this only seemed to make Bo all the more anxious

He didn't exactly... know what to do with a baby? He'd never really been around infants so he's looking to you for help on this one

When they're a bit older though, he'll let them hang out in the auto shop with him when he works

One day you come home to find him asleep on the couch with the twins curled up on his chest and you just melt

He's a good dad and a good husband

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Vincent was shocked you'd said yes when he proposed

He didn't consider himself attractive in the slightest but you said yes?!

I mean, you were stunning, he'd stared at you constantly even when you were dating and it certainly didn't stop when you were married

Bo and Lester were definitely jealous, teasing him to see him get flustered over how lucky he was

Unlike Bo, when he found out you were pregnant, he was excited

Nervous, absolutely, but everyone is nervous when they're having their first kid

He's so wary for you though, nearly had you on bedrest the entire pregnancy because he feared the worst

One time he caught you standing on a chair to reach something and he nearly had a conniption

But the twins came - because of course they were twins - and were healthy and beautiful

Vincent is so gentle with them, like they're the most precious things in the world to them

He makes little wax sculptures for their room to decorate it

Definitely encourages and supports creative hobbies for the kids! He gets them finger paints and crayons and the like

You've woken up in the night because of the babies crying but Vincent is already up, ready to help

Vincent's mastered carrying them both with an arm each and its very cute

Sometimes you catch him holding one of the twins and humming softly to them as they sleep in his arms, just swaying together in the kitchen

You feel so lucky but he feels even luckier to have you and your kids

LESTER SINCLAIR

Lester is by far the most... stable? So you'd been instantly drawn to that about him

He'd always get so flustered, bringing you flowers and blushing like a madman while you were dating

It took him the longest to propose to you though, he always felt like you were waaaay out of his league

Visitors came and would gawk at you and he'd feel a twinge of jealousy at the reminder that yeah, you could have anyone

But he did propose to you and you said yes because you wanted him, not anyone else

Neither of you had any shame in PDA, often holding hands or kissing in front of visitors

You lived with Lester and Jonesy in a little house on the outskirts of the town, surrounded by trees and very peaceful compared to the horrors of Ambrose

It had actually been Lester who suggested having a kid or two running around. After all, he had two older brothers so he was used to that business in a house with lots of people living in it

Over time, the two of you would have two kids, but they weren't twins

Lester was a good dad too! He was attentive and loving but he didn't let them get away with too much

He'd teach them how to shoot when they were a bit older because it was a fond memory he had with his own dad

Of course, Lester didn't have the best dad to draw comparison to

But at least he knew what not to do. Surely that counted for something?

You'd come home from working a short shift to find Lester and the kids playing in the backyard, running about with Jonesy as they played soccer

Both you and Lester would do anything for your kids and you knew he'd do anything for you

#🔪 creeps writes #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher x s/o #house of wax #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #the texas chainsaw massacre #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface x you

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neoplatinum · 6 months

Text

in sickness and in health - the finale | minatozaki sana

summary: it's time to face the two demons that lurk in the shadows

pairing: heiress!sana x reader

themes: blood, murder, gore, knives, kidnapping, assassins, katanas, arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex, misamo!

wc: 7.2k

(series masterlist)

index finger tracing along the scarred name, you stare into the open garden. the sound of a bamboo fountain trickling water, light sounds of wind passing by, hitting the wind chimes in the distance.

the warm air making your forehead sweat, there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest. a feeling you haven’t been able to put at ease for months. waking up from dreams of the abe brother’s killing your family.

after the abe ball, you took it upon yourself to do intensive research on their family clan. the history and intertwining of the two families like twin snakes. every generation there’s been an increasing tension between the minatozakis and the abes.

sana’s mother was married into the minatozaki family, much like you. a woman with a strong vision for the family, taking the power in stride. increasing the stretch of the power across industries, a move in which made the abes unhappy. there’s always been territory boundaries, unmoving and untouched for decades, no one crosses it.

sana’s mother crossed it.

taking over minor territories of the abe clan in japan: a means of expansion. one that the abe’s didn’t take lightly too. the abes took it upon themselves to kill momo and mina’s father.

a clear sign of distaste for the minatozakis, nearly sparking war between the two conglomerate powers.

which was why sana was set to marry kaito abe. a negotiation of peace and a possible united front against the smaller clans who were itching to take over whichever was killed off.

sometimes you stare at her, eyes just capturing her, wondering about the woman that you now devoted your every breath to.

there’s a shift, ever since the ball, she’s gone out less. more need to be around haruto and hanako. even spending days with you in office. she delivered an armchair into your office, to be placed near you while you work.

“it’s getting windy, let’s head back inside.” sana taps you, you take one final look over the garden before picking up a giggling hanako. grabbing at your ears and pulling at it.

haruto runs ahead, feet taking off ever since he found his own speed. running down bridges of the minatozaki estate.

his little feet lead him in front of sana’s mother. her eyes warm and inviting as she crouches down to pick him up. his grabby hands picking at the flower tucked in her breast pocket.

she looks so different like this. a woman who can kill as easily as she breathes.

but she’s so gentle with haruto and hanako, a real grandmother at times. the way she often visits, dropping everything to babysit them.

but she also comes to talk to you. sometimes you feel like she’s been watching you, the way you now try to take in her footsteps. to take over the family name, one that you didn’t want to bear in the first place.

that’s all this was supposed to be, a convenient enough marriage that was backed by the minatozaki power. you get to expand your business and lead your father’s, but now you stand, as a pawn.

likely the next leader of the clan.

hushed conversations in your office, her plans for the clan, molding you into another her. a vision she has long wanted, one that she didn’t want to force upon sana. but seeing your ambitious streak with your business, she knows you have the strength.

you just wonder if you can live up to the expectations.

“what do you make of the abe clan?”

“kaito and kenji. vicious, brutal, psychotic, narcissistic.” “right, what else?” she continues to take light sips of her sencha. you bought her favorite kind.

“birds, sana told me about killer birds.” and she nods. the abe’s are like crows, hiding amongst the shadows, swarming together for the kill. it’s so obvious why they chose killer crows.

those glossy beady black eyes, always monitoring.

like a 24/7 surveillance system.

“what about their vulnerabilities?”

you sit and think about the brothers, both so obsessed with murder and blood. hands probably holding the blood of ten of thousands of cronies.

you learnt of the aftermath of the watanabe, being dissolved like they never existed. their territories and power being absorbed by smaller groups clans. the whole family house being burnt to the ground.

it was a horrifying sight on the news, covered up under the guise of an electrical fire.

“i’m not sure.” sana’s mother stares at you, an eyebrow raised.

“who’s at the top?” she asks. setting down the cup of tea.

there’s no one at the top, that seat has been vacant for years. following the sudden death of their father, both brothers have been leading the clan.

some underground bosses have speculated that the brothers killed their own father. sent him to early retirement for the top seat.

you can’t tell if it’s true, or worse, who did it.

“it’s just the two brothers.” you comment.

“two leaders, as brothers. a clan of that size and prestige is unheard of, i think they’ll kill each other before this year ends.” she sits backwards, leaning against the cushion.

“likely, they’re both too greedy.” you also sit back, thinking about the two brothers. the horrors that happened that night, their eyes filled with pleasure at the killings.

delight flowing through them at the attention.

that night you returned from the abe ball, you had to hold sana, her just sobbing into your chest. making you bring haruto and hanako into the bedroom.

her hands shaking as she held haruto and hanako. giving them little kisses as she hugged them close.

you hope to never see her so distraught again.

“do you know why you were chosen, to marry sana?” sana’s mother stands up, grabbing a folder from her drawing. unraveling the string, and taking out the contents.

“no, i don't.”

“you and sana grew up around each other. i had always known your father, he used to be an associate of the minatozakis. he was too greedy and unstable, and i always assumed that he would never amount to much. but you, you were different.”

she starts showing you photos of you by your father’s side. small and young, without a clue in the world, just anger.

anger for something that was truly yours, one that wasn’t from your father.

“attended the same law school as sana, but you took your work seriously. devoting years to your business, i always kept tabs on you.”

she says, showing pictures of you during law school, in the background of sana’s photos. always there in the frame, just barely noticeable.

“all the heirs were power hungry, but they didn’t have a driving force. nothing to prove, all handed luxuries on a golden spoon.”

“you worked for your place in the world, and that i can admire. you remind me of my young self. when i married sana’s father, i acted much like you did. dismissive towards the minatozakis, until i had sana. she was the most precious thing to me, someone i had to protect.”

she says, handing you photos of a young sana, in her pretty dress and fake tiara. you smile at the sight, you remember often seeing her dressed up as a princess.

“i knew when i chose you, that you’d be loyal to sana, you have honor and duty in you, you can’t learn that. but this family and the clan, all of that you can learn.”

she says pointing around the room, and you think of how much you’ve changed. taking the leading stance on propelling the power of the clan.

“i understand.” you say, taking a look at all the photos laid out, you at different points of your life. a whole different you that wanted nothing to do with the minatozakis or any clan for the matter.

“when kazuki abe murdered mamoru, we assumed that they were going to kill off the rest of the minatozakis. but then we negotiated that sana would marry kaito.” she says pointing to a marriage contract. you stare at it, the wild lines of kaito’s signature.

“but then kazuki died suddenly, of a heart attack, they said. kaito was scrambling for the marriage. wanted to marry sana immediately, move up the marriage.”

“i told them that sana was set to marry someone else, this was a chance to change her fate.” she says, thinking back to when you were delivered a marriage contract.

“they lost their minds, swearing up and down that they were going to kill us for breaking the negotiations. but they had no leader, their father was dead, and they didn’t know how to wield the abe power. foolish little boys in dressed up suits.”

you nod.

“but now, i see kazuki in them both, ruthless and killer minded. that’s all they care about, killing those that stand in their way. i don’t even think kaito cared about marrying sana, was more concerned that she defied the negotiation.”

of course that’s where their priorities lied.

“do you understand now?”

“yes, mrs. minatozaki.”

“none of that, call me mom, you’re as much of my child as sana is.” she says, standing up, grabbing her cup of tea with her. you stand up as well.

“oh also, sana chose you because she thought you were captivating. her words, not mine.” and then she leaves with a grin.

“go go go!” little haruto points at the kite in your hand, the wind blowing your hair back. he jumps and claps as you run around the field, letting the koinobori kite fly into the sky.

the orange and red fish flying in the sky.

his laughs filling the air as the fish continues to weave through the sky. moving across the field as more string unravels from your kite.

“you having fun?” sana shouts as she walks up to you, hanako in her arms as she reaches out towards you. pulling your daughter into your arms.

“mhm, haruto is really happy.” he continues to run across the field, chasing the kite closely.

“she’s getting bigger.” you comment, bouncing hanako on your hip. handing the kite to sana. the fish flying up high. she stares at the fish in amazement, whining to reach out for it, trying to get out of your arms.

“isn't she? she might have my eyes.” sana comments, moving the kite to the other side, haruto cheering as he runs towards the other end of the field. you think they look like sana's too. ones that you used to look at as kids.

“what did you and my mom talk about.”

“talking about the abes. i learned why she chose me to marry you.” you say, trying your best to keep hanako in your arms. “didn’t know you had the hots for me even then.” you smirk.

“oh you wish!” she says, a light pink dusting on her cheeks.

“i think you said i was ‘captivating’ or am i wrong?” you laugh as sana refuses to look at you. too busy trying to wipe the smile off her face.

“you’ve gotten so cheeky lately.” you just smile at her, giving her a kiss. and you’re back to watching haruto running across the field.

you continue to sink into the water, letting the water move you around a bit. taking deep breaths as you dump more water across your arms. the large stones forming a barrier from the outside. lately you’ve been finding yourself more lost in your thoughts, thinking about how to best move forward.

what is your purpose now as a minatozaki?

without a doubt, you want to raise haruto and hanako properly, not letting them see the dark side of this family. they deserved a healthy childhood, one in which you and sana will foster their future. no matter what they decide.

but what about the other threats, smaller clans all itching to get a piece of the empire. you think about sana’s mother, how strong willed that woman is. wielding the entire empire in her hands, and expanding it to what it is now.

“what are you thinking about?” sana walks across the wooden boards, just to the edge of the spring. holding out her hand, you hold yours up as she takes a dip, her feet hitting the water and sitting next to you. you give her hand a kiss, before sitting closer to her.

“how lucky i am to marry you.” you say earnestly. days of the past before sana were filled with work and sleep. you rarely enjoyed yourself then. head down in paperwork after paperwork. now you get to experience life with the most beautiful woman in your life, along with two lovely kids.

“i feel the same.” she says, grabbing your hand again, tracing along the knuckles. she stills for a second before continuing, “you know how i was supposed to marry kaito?”

you nod, feeling a sharp distaste just at the name.

“i never loved him, and i knew i couldn’t be his wife. he would have killed me at some point, i think after mother dies.” his willingness to usurp the minatozakis is obvious, he would’ve killed the entire family if it meant being able to absorb the power that the minatozakis had.

“so i’m glad that you agreed to marry me.” she says, leaving feather-light touches across your palm. you kiss her forehead. letting her lean across your shoulder.

“me too darling.”

she gets up, pulling her hair off to the side. exposing her back. a long winding gorgeous blue and gold dragon across it. the tail winding down her spine and the tail ending near her tailbone. a full back piece, coloring her back in vibrancy. red clouds surrounding the dragon, wrapping in the curve of her back.

you trail your finger down the body of the dragon, feeling her shudder at the sensation. it’s a beautiful piece, adorning her back. with her gorgeous figure, you can’t help but admire her. everything that sana is and will be, you love every aspect.

“you’ve always liked this piece so much.” she comments, as you lift your finger. she turns around, pulling herself onto your lap. legs laid against yours.

“because you are gorgeous sana.” grabbing her lightly by the neck and pulling her in for a kiss. naturally, she lays her arms on your shoulder. “my gorgeous gorgeous girl.”

“yours.”

- -

“repeat that for me.” you stand up, watching sana’s mother continue to sit at her desk. pacing a bit as she continues to read down from the reports.

“the abe’s are trying to stage a coup.” she comments, reading the written report. “sent assassins to kill momo and mina, ‘finishing what they started’ they said.” you begin to bite your nail, they’re making moves now. “sent over a hundred of their foot soldiers to their sleeping quarters. momo and mina tore them all apart, but they’re recovering now, heavy injuries.”

you look at the pictures, bruised ribs, cuts along their arms and torsos. momo looks more bandaged from the sight of the photos. both of them sleeping in the minatozaki private hospital.

“you think they’ll come for us next?” you take a step away from the desk, thinking about sana. this is the last thing she needs, bad dreams of the abe brothers plaguing both your minds. now this threat is far more present, they intend to finish off killing off momo and mina, after the abe’s killed their father: mamoru minatozaki.

“yes.” she says, continuing to examine the report, reading down the lines. attacks made dead in the night, but momo and mina’s alert senses pulled them out of their sleep early enough for them to grab weapons to defend themselves. “likely soon.”

you let out a sigh, it seems the darkness is looming closer. some days when you’re outside you spot crows along tree branches, those same beady eyes from the abe manor. all ready to dive and kill at a moments notice. perhaps the abe’s have been monitoring your behavior as well.

“be prepared, the next line of minatozakis all depends on you.” sana’s mother stands up, eyes a little harder than usual as she exits her office. you look back at the photos of momo’s injuries. the bruises, the black eye, the gash along her forehead. mina got off a little easier, she’s more evasive than momo, but she looks pretty beat up too, leg in a cast.

“you look like shit momo.” you stare at her body, the bruising has faded a bit, leaving a yellow-ish green color along her ribs. the low sound of the machines running in the background. mina gave you a weak wave as she continues to read her book.

“i still look better than you, dipshit.” you grin, momo having enough energy to still insult you means she’s still herself. and for that you are grateful. you place the fruit basket onto her bedside table.

“you still doing the exercises i taught you?” she says, pushing herself up with some difficulty. you pull the pillow up to support her back as she leans against the wall.

you nod, that’s all you’ve been doing lately. training for hours, that you completely lose track of time. sometimes sana scolds you for not picking up her calls, walking into the weight room herself to take off your headphones. training for what, you aren’t even sure. maybe the looming threat of the abe’s has made you paranoid.

“momo, i came to ask you about the abe’s.” mina puts her book down gently, tabbing it before closing it. and momo crosses her arms. both of them staring at you.

“what do you want to know?”

“what happened that night? i want to know from the source.” you explain.

momo lets out a sigh while mina stares outside the window.

“they sent assassins, it was an open-contract just for that night, whoever takes blood gets the pool of money. meaning any assassin could take on the job, they wanted us both dead. didn’t matter how. so roughly 100 assassins or so, all swarming our house, they all came.” she explains.

“many of these assassin we both know personally, i think the abe’s weren’t serious about wanting us dead. i think this was just a warning to sana’s mother. that they’re coming for her.” momo says, and mina nods lightly.

“the abe’s are killers, they would never send assassins as proxies if they actually wanted us dead.” mina explains. the abe brothers are known for keeping a public record of every person they have killed, a competition to see which brother has a higher kill count.

“doesn’t mean that this was any easier though.” momo says as she tries to rotate her shoulders. you nod, the abe’s are psychotic killers and calculating while at it.

“the abe’s only kill with their knives, it’s like an extension for their bodies. it’s how they were trained, one blade for the rest of their lives. all the abe’s have to use that same knife to take their own life, or else their death is considered shameful. they won’t get an abe burial if they let anything else kill them.” mina says with finality.

sana has been pacing like crazy the past few days, her uneasiness continuing to spread through to you. she’s been so anxious since momo and mina nearly got killed.

some days she’ll stay in the nursery for hours, just spending time with haruto and hanako. or if they’re asleep, she’ll visit momo and mina in the private hospital. you can see how she’s losing sleep over this, eyes wide as she explains how scared she is that everyone will die in front of her eyes. much like what happened to the watanabes.

you don’t even know how to console her at times, just letting her tears continue to stain your clothes as she cries. often coming back from the hospital with hollow eyes.

you’ve stepped up security, placing more security measures around the manor, cameras, guards, even sensors. anything that’ll give you the upperhand against these vicious brothers.

but there’s been radio-silence, nothing to report.

and that makes you antsy, you feel like they’re plotting their next attack against your family but like a lost detective, there’s no conclusive evidence. forced to feel like this threat is a phantom, that it doesn’t actually exist at all.

sana’s mother has taken it upon herself to visit often for her grandkids, a second set of eyes that’ll be ready to jump at the scene. there’s still this trained calmness in her, one that won’t act rashly when provoked. she’s been through hell and back for this clan, and she won’t let these brothers provoke her.

“so they stopped sending you sunflowers?” sana asks as you stare at yesterday’s flowers. it’s a bit strange, for the past month, the flowers always arrive exactly at noon, no earlier, and no later.

it’s also a strange flower to gift.

“yeah, just today.” there’s never a post card or anything, but with how work has been booming you’re sure it’s just a pleased shareholder expressing their happiness. sana continues to examine the flowers, eyeing them closely, checking the vase for anything special.

“do you even like sunflowers?” she asks.

“no, not really, which is why i’m confused.” you explain, also examining the flower. the yellow petals bloomed around the disk florets. you’ve been asking shoko to figure out who the sender is, but the flower delivery is always anonymous.

sana nods, as she sits down near you, pulling out a magazine. you continue to thumb through the financial report you’ve been sent. great projections for the third quarter.

then shoko runs into the room.

“emi just called, they took haruto and hanako.” shoko shoves the phone forward, you take it out of your hand, putting it against your ear.

“emi, emi, can you hear me?” you shout into the phone, your blood pressure rising.

“they took them!” emi’s anxious voice squeaks through the speakers, her frantic voice as you hear footsteps all in the back. sana’s by your side, staring at the phone as her eyes go dark.

“who’s they?” you ask, grabbing your stuff, as shoko keeps the door open. you and sana take off, running down the hallway towards the elevator. background noise continuing to playthrough the speakerphone. you and sana keep sharing looks of panic, you can feel her shaking.

“the abe’s, the abe’s took them. both the brothers are here.” emi continues to speak, her voice getting quieter and quieter. you grab sana’s hand as you both race down the stairwell. rushing into the parking lot, handing sana the phone as you both take off.

“emi, do you know where they took them?” sana’s voice is on the verge of sobbing, tears flowing down her face. she continues to shake in the passenger seat, you offer your hand, as you speed out of the garage, and take the shortest road towards the manor.

“i-i don’t know miss sana.” emi’s voice cuts off and then you hear a scream, nearly stopping the car. your ears listening to the scream of emi, and then it goes silent. sana’s gripping on your hand the tightest she ever has.

then there’s a crackle before a voice comes through.

“hello darling, missed me?” the voice of kaito abe, directly reverberating around the car. sana squeezes your hand. you focus on driving as fast as you can, weaving through cars and traffic, all aimed at reaching towards your kids.

“kaito, you took my kids!” she shouts into the phone.

“oh don’t be like that darling, you know i would never actually kill them. such precious little things.” his laughter ringing out, him placing the phone directly at your kids’ mouths. their wails and cries coming through the phone.

“now, let’s get to the fun part!” his laughter coming back, you’re nearing the house. “come to us! we’ll be waiting.”

sana’s crying, her tears rolling off the phone screen, and you stop hearing anything, the ringing sound in your ears. your blood running through you like a waterfall. the thumping of your chest clambering out of your body, a desperate need to calm down.

the adrenaline that rushes through you, you press the gas pedal harder, the thought of losing your kids killing any other thought that dares to sprout within your mind.

“before i forget! i left little gifts for you! sunflowers, very fitting, since hanako means flower child and haruto means sun. i thought you would figure it out!” his voice comes back, the ringing continuing to play with his voice.

that fucker is getting what’s coming to him.

then the line hangs up.

you speed into the manor. outside in the lawns are lifeless bodies, all their blood staining the grass red. a massacre of minatozaki mercenaries taken out by the hands of the abes. tire marks against the ground.

you hastily put the car in park, throwing the door open as you race to the door, it’s all ransacked. the house, nearly flipped over. deep gashes on the family portrait hung on the wall. both your and sana’s face cut from the painting. sana chases after you, her body still shaking as she examines the room around her. running straight for the nursery.

you stop when you get inside, it’s not flipped over like the rest of the house, but both children are missing. where haruto usually sits to draw, his chair is flipped over. and hanako who likes to stand in her crib is nowhere to be seen. sana hasn’t noticed, but emi’s been murdered. her blood staining the carpet. you cover her eyes, as you lead her outside.

the absolute anger and venom coursing through your body, you reach the door.

you get a ring from your phone.

his voice through your ears, “if you’d like your kids back, come to the abe house alone, let’s talk.” it’s oddly normal, not his usual humored voice. almost like a friend calling. you shudder at how quick he can change himself.

“deal.”

you speed away from the manor.

you roll your car into the abe mansion, seeing the same red walls and dark red crest across the main entrance. a sigh leaving your lips. you weren’t really thinking when he called, and now you’re here, at the doorsteps of the abes. they could kill you right here and that would be it for you.

but your conviction to save your kids is stronger, the need to kill kaito and kenji for messing with your kids.

parking your car in the garage, there’s no guards around. it’s too quiet, almost like something’s wrong here. you can even hear the garden running in the background.

you step into the same tunnel where you once walked through with sana. there’s no line of birds up top, also strange. like a chill up your spine, and soon you arrive inside the main hall. the same hall that was the death place of the watanabes. it’s completely empty, the decorations are still around. but without the guests, it’s just a giant room filled with war artifacts/

you keep walking through the hallways, until you reach a smaller room, much smaller. with it’s door open. and inside you can hear some light music playing. the sight of kaito and kenji abe sitting in two chairs, no guards around either.

just them two and behind them your kids. little haruto and hanako hugging each other in the corner. haruto’s fearful eyes as he sees you, running towards you with tears in his eyes.

you rush to pick him up, while the two brothers eye you. unmoving as you grab hanako as well. placing them behind you. staring at them two. their hands spinning their twin tantos in their hands. you don’t say anything, rubbing hanako’s hair lightly as you set her down behind you.

“take a seat.” you sit down across from the brothers. both of them adorning their family crest, kaito’s lips are curled into a smile, while kenji has a bored look on his face.

“why did you take my kids?” you ask, continuing to keep hanako in your arms. rocking her slightly, while haruto peers from behind the chair. still scared out of his mind.

“just for fun!” kaito says as he offers a lollipop to hanako, you push it away. watching the way he laughs out in amusement.

“you minatozakis are always so stuck up.” he says, placing the lollipop down on his desk. kenji continues to flip the tanto in his hand. you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. it’s still too quiet, where is everyone.

“i wanted to meet my replacement in person.” kaito explains. “needed to see sana’s plaything in person.”

kenji rolls his eyes. you continue to let your eyes drift to and from the two brothers, attune to each subtle movement. “well i’m here now, what do you want from me?”

“i want you to beg, beg for your life.” he says, knife pointed at your head. you look around you, any sign of escape. the door’s still open for some reason. you stare at him, body unmoving in the chair. hands cupped around hanako’s ears. she sinks her head into your chest, completely unmoving.

“beg?” you ask.

“yes, beg for your life! you minatozakis always just take what you want. took away from my father’s empire, that silly old lady. so my father killed one of yours.” he says, pointing to a plaque.

engraved towards the middle is ‘mamoru minatozaki’, a list on names stretching down the plaque. all of them kills by the abes, when and who.

it’s sickening to see.

“so beg, beg for forgiveness, beg for salvation, beg for escape. because you just walked into the abe mansion like a fool.” kaito stands up, his knife back towards you, you place hanako into haruto’s arms.

his eyes filled with tears as he begs for you to hold him. you give them both forehead kisses as he cries with his sister in his arms.

you beg that they don’t see what you do.

you stand back up, slipping the tanto from your waistband. unsheathing it and rolling it in your hands. taking off the blazer you had on, and rolling your sleeves up.

“oh a branded one too!” kaito laughs out pointing at your forearm, you pay him no mind as he continues to laugh. “you’ve got some fight in you?”

you just nod, getting into a defensive stance, keeping your left fist leveled. as he advances forward. kenji’s still sat playing with the knife in his hand. marveling the sharp edge, while kaito’s got bloodlust painted all over his face.

he advances forward, faking a stab at your left side, the feint doesn’t bother you one bit, using the leverage to stab at his left side as well. letting your power move with your body, nearly cutting into his jacket. to which he claps at the sight, a strange man he is.

“keep going, keep going!” he exclaims, clearly getting excitement from the taunts that you are exhibiting. you begin circling him, clearly he’s excited, letting the stabs continue. you continue to flip the dagger in your hand, he lands a slash against your cheek and against your shoulder.

kenji hasn’t even moved an inch, his finger still grazing along the edge. you feel your blood pump faster, clenching your jaw as you grip the blade harder. letting a charged attack aiming for his neck, and at the last second letting the blade slice down his body.

he cheers unexpectedly, clapping with his hands. you continue to let your eyes move from him and his brother. confused with the lack of action from kenji.

“you know how to fight! i like when my prey fight back, it’s more fun that way.” he says, changing his smile from amusement to pleasure-filled. his stance getting lower, you feel yourself getting nervous. you don’t know what he’s trained in before.

he nearly lunges at you, an unexpected speed, you dodge the attack with your arms, his knife digging into your skin. and then he pulls it back out. eyes ablaze as he continues to try and aim for your head. you narrowly dodge each attack, and with each attack, he gets faster and faster.

you let him stab his knife into your shoulder, as you stab the knife deep into his stomach. staring at him centimeters away. the way his eyes roll at the pain, he’s a masochist. entertained by his own pain, and others. you let the knife continue to sink into him being pulling it back out.

the blood pooling from his shirt, dripping onto the ground. his knife stuck into your shoulder. he grabs a longer blade off a shelf, you stumble backwards a bit. the pain of the shoulder making you hold onto his blade. better to keep it in, than to let it bleed out.

his eyes gleaming with joy as he wields a katana now in hand, you stare at it, watching the way he moves his grip, adjusting it. all the while kenji steps near him, eyes squinted as he watches his brother wield a katana.

you heave a bit, your left shoulder feeling weak from the knife lodged within. you back up a bit as they both share a look, both their eyes wild, but for different reason.

you put your right arm up, readying yourself for an attack from them both,

but then it turns into a bloodfest.

kenji, in a quick rotating turn, grabs the katana straight from kaito’s hands and stabs the long katana into his brother. cutting through him in the chest. his brother’s eyes go wide.

“you, you, you!” kaito’s hands fly towards the katana trying to pull it out, kenji only stabs it into his body further.

“any last words brother?” kenji lets out a little smile, as kaito falls backward his hand outreached towards kenji, blood gurgling in his mouth. his body going limp on the floor.

kenji then he turns to you.

“thank you for that, let’s let the real fun begin.” he says, pulling the katana out of his brother’s now lifeless body. all the while you’re trying to make sure that none of your kids are seeing this brutal scene, you can hear their small cries.

he crosses the room in a few steps, trying with all his force to slam the katana over your head, you hold with everything in you against it, fighting it with ever muscle fibers in your body. being brought abruptly with the downwards force of his slash.

knees nearly buckling under the force. he continues to drive the katana deeper, you barely hold on, begging for something to hold.

letting the sweat continue to bead across your forehead, calves and thighs straining in pressure, and at last he lets go. a short knife sent straight at his heart. his eyes nearly bulging out as he grasps onto his shirt, his heart bleeding out. and you collapse onto the ground.

the adrenaline pumping through your body, and all the pain of the fight coming back to feeling. you stare at the ceiling as people start piling in. you roll your head over, the sight of the minatozaki crest upon the back of the people.

one in particular sticks out, sana’s mother. taking the knife from his heart and stabbing into it once more. “i pity you abe boys, killing one of your own.” she says before taking the knife out once more.

“take the kids away.” you put your hand up, and immediately the guards back up. you roll your head the other way, beckoning the kids forward. haruto wailing as he falls atop your body, and little hanako staring straight at you, before joining her brother.

you smile at them both, caressing their faces, giving them kisses as tears fall down your face. they’re okay, they’re safe.

you can feel the exhaustion finally seeping in, continuing to brush their hair out their face. as your eyes roll back, and then you’re out.

your eyes open to the bright light of the hospital room, one that you previously were in for momo and mina. the windows are open, a slight wind blowing against the curtains. a bunch of fruit baskets laying at the table near your feet. clearly you’ve had some visitors.

mouth drier than a desert as you try and grab a glass of water nearby. your whole body hurts, every part of it hurts. you grunt a bit reaching the full glass, getting some needed hydration.

and this searing headache that you can feel isn’t making it any better. you try your best to look around, vision still a bit blurry. then they refocus on a figure in the chair near you.

sana’s here.

you blink a few more times, eyes getting sharper, until you can see her features clearly. it’s a gorgeous sight after nearly being killed. although she looks mad at you, her eyes in fury. the same fury you saw when she found out you had her tailed.

she stares at you, getting up when she notices you’re awake, towering over you.

“you idiot!” she shouts at you. tears in her eyes already, you try your best to move but everything hurts so much.

“sana. please.” you raise your hand, outreached towards her. she storms out of the room, the door slamming open as she rushes outside.

then sana’s mother enters the room. a limping momo trailing behind her. both women rounding the side of the bed that sana was in seconds ago. sana’s mother doesn’t display much emotion, but momo seems rather amused.

“sana’s furious, swore she would kill you if you died to the brothers.” she explains, her hands folded behind her as she stares at your patient monitor, a small smile on her hand. “you did well kid.”

“doesn’t seem like it.” you say, feeling the pain of your left shoulder still burning. a searing pain even as you try and relax. she shakes her head no, momo’s staring at your bandaged body. your injuries much like hers, minus the bruised ribs. to which you have to be thankful for. you think back to the room, how dark it was in their study. the sight of your kids cowering in fear deep in the back corner of the room, their small eyes staring at you in relief when they saw you enter.

you hope they never remember this event, and most of all that they didn’t see anything.

you know that you’ll forever live with this memory, the scars, the bloodshed, the pain. all of it will live through you and hopefully only you. a reason that you went straight for the abe brothers, without giving sana a chance to even follow. you don’t want her to deal with the repercussions of the deaths that were bound to happen. to put ease into her mind, you would shoulder the world for her.

a true testimony of your devotion to sana.

“you did it for sana, didn’t you?”

momo’s words bring you out of your thoughts, and you nod, because it’s true. sana is everything and more, someone that you find yourself leaning on when things get rough. you want her to never experience the sights of the killings. those night terrors were enough to snap you awake, you feel protective of her. wanting her peace to remain for however long she lives.

“she called me and mina up, begging us with her snotty voice to save you.” momo says, a little too serious for your taste. “she begged, sana is not one to beg. she loves you as much as you love her.”

“i know.”

momo rolls her eyes.

“what i’m trying to say is, despite how mad she may be at you, she loves you, even this part of you that wants to shoulder all her burdens.” momo explains. and you listen intently.

“when she told me that you were going to marry her, i always wondered why. but now i know, you mean every word you say. there’s no games with you. in this world, all there is are games, everyone has their motives, their greed, their lust. but you speak from the heart, and that’s all sana wants, someone genuine. their love as obvious as their words.”

you nearly choke up at the words, it’s a feeling that you’ve been thinking about lately. ever since sana’s mother explained why she chose you (sana as well).

“thank you momo.” and with a small nod she leaves the hospital room.

you feel like you haven’t deserved the love that sana gives you, as much as you want to. just not understanding why, but it’s clear, even in this dark and cruel world that you’ve been married into.

you sob openly, just letting the tears of everything that’s been building up in you fall like flowing feelings. all the pain and suffering of being married into this family, the strange stares from outsiders. enduring the rigorous training from momo and mina all in order to become someone strong enough for this family, all those nights you had to hold a crying sana.

“you are an absolute idiot.” you get wheeled outside, sitting in your hospital gown as you get placed next to sana’s bench. there’s tears still in her eyes, and she refuses to look at you.

“i know, i’m sorry.” you respond.

“what if you died? what if they killed you and the kids? what am i supposed to do then?” she exclaims, tears gushing from her eyes. tissues in her hands as she stares at them.

“i, i don’t know. i didn’t think that far. i just knew i had to save them.” you explain, trying your best to not pick at the IV needle.

“i should kill you myself, sending yourself on a suicide mission.” she bites out, an anger you haven’t heard in months. you just nod letting her continue to talk. “i stayed outside, momo holding me back. and then i saw haruto running towards me, tears in his eyes.”

you nod, feeling a deep shame running through your body, hoping that he didn’t see anything.

“he just kept saying you saved him and hanako, i thought you died in there. but you didn’t. you didn’t die in there, and you saved them too.”

“i did what i needed to do.” sana continues to speak over you.

“and i’m frustrated, because it should’ve been us saving them together, but you shouldered all my burdens once again. you took on this marriage which saved me from marrying kaito, and you continue to shoulder my burdens even now.”

“because i love you sana.” you declare. “it isn’t a burden to me because i love you. and i always will sana, until death do us part, i promised to love you forevermore, and i choose you as my partner.” you pull yourself in front of her.

“i want everything with you, even in sickness and in health, all these vows i said during our wedding, i didn’t know it then, but i know it now. i mean every single word!” you cry out.

you stare at her, and her eyes lift up at yours, you wipe the tears off her face. a small smile on her face as she kisses you, even with salty tears rolling down.

a/n: the series is finished! hehehee, i left an easter egg!! message me if u figure it out :P, also thank you to the lovely @d3viant0n3 for helping me move this series forward, forever thankful <3 as well as my moots for listening to my troubles w this fic (forgot to mention!! dragon back tattoo is @cry4mina's idea) LOL and as always, stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#sana #twice #twice sana #sana twice #sana minatozaki #minatozaki sana #sana x reader #sana x you #kpop imagines #twice x reader #twice x you #neoplatinum

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earthtooz · 6 months

Text

baby, would i still be your lover?

fluff with angst, 1k words, gn!reader celebrates their bday bc it's my bday today, reader likes pearls, childhood friends to lovers (?), ooc!al-haitham, conflict and resolving it, al-haitham's grandmother is featured.

The best way to describe yours and al-Haitham's friendship is... unusual.

Having known him since childhood, you cannot say that he has changed much over the years. When your parents brought him to his grandmother's house to hopefully give the young boy a chance to socialise with something other than academic journals, befriending him was not easy.

He dodged all conversation you tried to make, ignored all attempts you made to play tag with him, completely evaded your childlike innocence. He always was more mature than everyone else his age, or rather, always acted like it.

Most unusually, he had an uncanny streak of pushing everyone out of his life, and you were not immune to the imaginary lashes he strikes, eventually removing yourself from his life too out of frustration.

At seventeen, when an unforeseen tension had lodged itself between you and al-Haitham, it deteriorated your friendship. One day, he had taken his opinions too far and sharpened his words too much, you left the House of Daena tearful and too wounded to see him for a while. It creates a distance between you two, one that lasts for three years.

At twenty, you visit al-Haitham's grandmother for the last time, and she makes you promise something. She pleads you to take care of her grandson, that for years, he has been hoping for the rekindling of your friendship, and she asks of you to make his wish come to fruition.

You reach out to him a month later on impulse. He invites you to dinner and drinks at Lambad's Tavern, and for the preceding week, it mentally drains you to think about being alone with him again.

He is already there when you arrive, sitting with crossed legs and arms at an empty booth. Showing up later than him gives you time to admire how he has grown. Now freshly turned twenty-one, time has served him well. He has grown into his sharp, taut features, and the way his grey hair falls accommodates his features well, and his build is impressive for a scholar. You've heard from others that he's graduated with the highest honours, and has already been offered a job at the Akademiya.

When the conversation begins, you're relieved to find out that nothing has changed from when you were both seventeen and fumbling teenagers.

As the only person who has stayed in his life since his youth, there is a bond that somehow cannot be severed. You apologise for what happened at seventeen, he does too.

As dinner passes, one thing becomes abundantly clear: al-Haitham does not need someone to 'take care of him' like his grandmother asked. What he did need, however, was his childhood friend that always knew how to push his buttons, and perhaps that was your way of 'caring' for him.

"Y/n." al-Haitham's broad figure looms over your desk, causing you to pause the scribble of words and numbers that you were in the midst of writing. "With your birthday coming in less than a month, I went to review our personal channel for gifts you'd like."

"Have you now?" You rest your chin on your hand, looking up at him through your lashes.

He completely ignores your question. "A sango pearl necklace? From Watatsumi Island? Is that your only desire?"

"I am easy to please," you shrug.

"Perhaps you misunderstand me. Is there no other gift that you'd appreciate?"

"Is a pearl necklace not possible?"

"One from Fontaine would be more achievable. Watatsumi Island, however, given our geographical distance and the fact that Inazuma is only just beginning to open up its transnational-"

"-So it's not possible? Even for the Grand Sage?"

"Acting Grand Sage, and whilst it is not impossible, I came to review with you possible alternatives for gift ideas that would provide the same marginal benefit."

"I suppose I could think of something else," you tap your chin. "One day I'll get my hands on those pearls, do you see the way they shine so clearly? You could use them just to fix your makeup! Cold to the touch and a clearer reflection are what make pearls high quality."

"How fascinating," he responds flatly and you pout. "In other news, it's lunch time now, and you promised you'd pay for my next meal at Lambad's."

You huff, compiling your papers together and clipping them together. "I was hoping you'd forget."

(As always, when the meal is said and done, he doesn't actually allow you to pay.)

A month later, when the clock strikes midnight on the day of your birthday, there is a series of knocks at your door. Unsurprisingly, you're greeted by al-Haitham's handsome face, now softer without the makeup he wears to enhance his features, but still beautiful nonetheless.

In his hands, he holds a gift.

"Happy birthday, Y/n." He declares, straight to the point, and hands you the box. "I hope it is to your liking."

The unassuming packaging only adds to your shocked delight when you see the contents inside.

"Sango pearls, from Watatsumi Island! You got me a necklace and bracelet set!" You squeal in pure excitement, treating the jewellery like fragile little things when you feel them. Cold to the touch, and you can see your reflection in them.

Pride shines in his eyes and a small smile pulls at his lips. He doesn't say anything except watch you freak out, satisfied with the hoops he had to jump through for this present.

"al-Haitham, I am so happy I could kiss you."

"I'd be happy to oblige."

The best way to describe yours and al-Haitham's relationship is unusual. You would do anything to get on his last nerve (without overstepping), and he would do anything for you.

#i have a dr ratio fic out too soon bc i want to celebrate my birthday with two academics apparently #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham fluff #al-haitham fluff #genshin x reader #alhaitham fic

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quizzicalwriter · 7 months

Note

i really love ur writing especially with any matt dillon character <3 i feel like u improved sm with ur recent fics too (or maybe i just like the angst HAHA) but uve always been a great writer, i love how u also include canon details and like realistic details (if that makes sense) but u just r really good with expressing ur words!! id love if u wrote smut like dally bothering fem!reader working a shift at the diner or something idk nonetheless ur writing is sosososgood

Cherry

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas makes everything better after a shitty day at work, most of which had been his fault in the first place.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Pain in the ass Dallas. Make-up sex, fingering, oral, all that good stuff.

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words! And thank you for the request!

Word Count: 4.5k

Working at a local diner wasn't necessarily the high point of your life, working the closing shift even less so. Dealing with inebriated patrons, groups of teenagers, and the occasional male who stayed well past the hours of operation was your usual.

It was a cute thing, the diner, owned by a man who'd inherited the land from his grandfather. His wife had based the menu on her recipes, along with a few from her mother, grandmother, and so on. You'd worked there long enough to gain their trust, and if you were honest, you saw them more as your grandparents than you did your employers.

Dallas accompanied you on the busier nights, whenever he passed by and caught sight of the unruly nighttime crowd, he'd duck into the diner and give you a crooked grin before making his way over to the counter. You fed him, or gave him drinks, just as you did the remainder of the guys whenever you could get away with doing so. It was calming, and made you feel safe having your guard-dog of a boyfriend waiting by the front counter until you flipped the sign that hung on the front door.

While his presence was welcome, the attention it drew was not. Possessive streaks weren't something you prided yourself on. You trusted Dallas as anyone would their boyfriend, but you weren't blind to him either. Dallas was a man, a cocky man at that, his cockiness flared whenever a woman looked his way for longer than a second. Had he ever truly pursued someone other than yourself? No, but, you couldn't help your jealousy whenever a woman approached him with glossed lips and bright eyes.

Internally you thrived on him turning down each woman that came his way, although, much to your dismay, some women took longer to disperse than others had. Whether it was due to Dallas's charm, or their persistence, you weren't sure, nor did you have the ability to check during busy shifts, especially when a man who looked as though he'd seen conflict in the Civil War whistled from the other end of the diner.

"Miss!" He called, waving his hand higher than he had seconds ago. Truthfully, you weren't ignoring him, you'd had to run two other checks to nearby booths and had simply forgotten about him. "Miss!"

With a feigned smile, you peeled your attention from the woman all but draping herself over Dallas, her thin fingers splayed over his forearm. He smiled back at her, the sight made your stomach sour enough for you to partially crumble the bill you'd written up moments prior for the increasingly impatient man.

"Here's your bill, sir. I'm sorry for the wait, busy as all get out tonight."

Your apology was met with a gruff laugh, but he seemed to understand your plight as he followed your line of sight back toward the front counter. While he signed the bottom of the receipt, he cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him.

"Ain't no sense in apologizin'." He responded with a lift of his hips as he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. "I get why your attention's elsewhere."

You opened your mouth to apologize, only to be met with the raise of his hand as he placed a few dollars down on the table, enough to cover the tab and your tip. It was generous and kind enough to leave you mentally berating yourself for not having given him better service. But, you ventured by the kind, almost apologetic smile upon his face that he had been in a similar situation in his youth.

Incessant laughter bubbled from the opposing side of the diner, the noise boisterous enough to pick away at your fading patience. You pocketed the cash, inwardly begging whatever deity listening for the grace to clean up shop and kick the girl out without causing a scene.

Their conversation continued, words muffled by distance and the clatter of putting away cutlery, although you tried your damndest to overhear it all. You began your routine of cleaning up house, a wet rag over your shoulder with a bottle of cleaning solution in your left hand. As you spritzed a nearby table, her laughter kicked up a notch, yet again.

"We're closing!" You called, giving her a feigned smile as she turned her head to face you. She returned your smile, just as you had given it to her, coarse and fake. You bit at your inner cheek as she turned back to Dallas, her hand lifting to rest against his shoulder.

"Hey, we're closed!" You shouted, tone louder than before. Dallas peered at you from behind her shoulder, face a mixture of shock and amusement. You were having none of it, not her bold and brazen behavior, his cockiness - none of it. You tossed your rag toward the counter, slinging the bottle alongside it as you moved toward them.

The woman, for what it was worth, met your eyes as you approached. The sudden eye contact left you stumbling over your thoughts, but as you caught sight of her hand still lingering upon his shoulder, all sense of humility left you.

"He's taken, did you know that?" You asked as you grabbed her wrist, quickly shoving it back toward her. Her smile faltered then, her eyes flickering between you and Dallas as she backed away. "No, I suppose you didn't."

All anger you had directed toward her vanished with each step she took toward the door, instead raising and flaring at the man sitting beside you. You turned, meeting his gaze with a scowl and a shake of your head.

"Seriously, Dallas?" You asked, although you knew no response he could provide at that moment would abate the growing ache in your chest. "You're an asshole. A real - fuckin' - asshole."

Each pause was accentuated with a shove of his shoulder, jealousy seething in your mind, burning your eyes with tears you refused to let him see. You could tell from the sudden switch of emotion on his face, albeit blurred from your tears, that he hadn't meant to hurt you. His hands grabbed your forearms, holding you steady whilst simultaneously shielding himself from your jealousy-fueled tirade. You were in no mood for his touch, so you pulled away from it with a grunt.

The sooner you finished closing up shop, the sooner you'd be away from him. Those words rang in your mind as you walked away from him, repeating with each step as though it were a mantra.

It was shitty; your jealousy, his cockiness, it was a toxic mix that neither of you relished in. You had known going into your relationship with Dallas how he handled interactions with women, you knew where his loyalties were, yet some part of you continued to twist and sour with each look his way.

Maybe it was the extra shifts you'd taken at the diner, the fewer hours you were able to spend by his side, being reassured by his touch and his words. Whatever it was, you hadn't the patience to linger on it, all you wanted to do was wallow in your anger - so, you did.

"Doll!" He called, although he was met with no answer as you tossed unclean plastic menus onto the countertop. You could hear him walking toward you, swearing under his breath, yet you continued to ignore him as you snagged your house keys from underneath the counter.

"Christ's sake, I didn't say a damn thing to the broad!"

"That's not the point." You sighed, shaking your head as you spoke, fingers blindly fumbling with your keyring as you neared the front entrance. "Not the point at all, and you know it."

Once your fingers had found the key to the front door, you hastened your pace, not necessarily wishing to have an argument with Dallas in the middle of the night. Dallas, however, absolutely seemed up to the challenge. He stood behind you, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, a heavy scowl on his face as he watched you lock the place up.

"Explain it to me then." He whispered, and for a second you believed him to be apologetic. "'Cause this attitude, it ain't helpin' your cause."

And then he ruined it.

You swirled on your heel, months of pushed-aside irritation bubbling to the surface. You weren't one for confrontation, never had been, it was a sore point for you. You quickly pocketed your keys, hands gripping the middle of your jacket, tugging it snug around your middle.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" You asked. "You could've shooed her away, told her you were with someone. And yet, you- you entertain it."

The words would've rung home for anyone willing to listen, but Dallas, with his stubborn ways, only cocked his head to the side and gave you a lopsided grin.

"I'm not interested in other women." He responded, taking a step closer to you. "I can't help who talks to me, doll. I ain't entertaining anything, you know that."

Did you? Maybe, but in your jealousy-fueled haze, you refused to admit your part in the misunderstanding. He lifted his right hand from his pocket, placing it against your upper arm, thumb gently rubbing along the fabric of your jacket.

"Do you worry about me?" He asked with a duck of his head, trying to center your attention back on him. "Worry about me talkin' to other girls?"

You nodded, and instead of snickering, he pulled you forward. You thudded against his chest, the sudden move knocking a bit of wind from your lungs. His arms wrapped around you as he laughed out an apology, the sound soft, the words genuine.

"Still an asshole." You murmured, resting your cheek on his chest as your hands grasped onto the back of his jacket. You felt him nod, chin atop your head, his hands smoothing up your back.

"I know." He replied. "At least let me drive you home, alright? Even if you're pissed."

"Not pissed." You assured, leaning back from the embrace to meet his gaze. "Might have overreacted."

Dallas clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyebrows screwing together as he nodded his head back. "No," he chuckled. "I would've done the same if some guy talked to you."

The thought made you smile, not that you hadn't seen Dallas's protective side flair. You were both territorial over each other, and there was nothing necessarily wrong with that as long as the feelings were reciprocated - which they were in their entirety.

"Ever notice how empty this lot is at night?" He commented, snapping you from your mind with a gentle squeeze of your hip. "Hardly any cars pass by, somethin' I noticed after a few nights sittin' by the counter."

Dallas hadn't been wrong, not in the slightest. In truth, you would've been surprised if you'd caught anyone lingering in the parking lot after closing. Your town wasn't quiet by any means, but the diner had been built around, years of infrastructure hiding it amidst a cluster of run-down businesses.

With a hum, you leaned into his side. "Guess you're right." You replied, tilting your head back to give him a squinty-eyed smile, on account of the nearby flickering lot light.

"Could make you feel better." He whispered. "On account of earlier, or whatever."

You snickered, rolling your eyes at his blatant suggestion, yet for all its crudeness, you couldn't deny the stir you felt in your lower stomach.

"You're filthy." You chided, nudging his side with your elbow.

Dallas huffed out a laugh, his arm looping around your back. "C'mon," he urged as he began walking, leading you toward his car. "Ain't wasting the opportunity to make you feel better."

Mere moments had passed before you were both clamoring into the back of the Thunderbird, limbs bumping into limbs, soft laughter echoing inside the vehicle as Dallas reached over your middle to pull the door shut. As soon as the door had shut, your lips were on his, your hands blindly fumbling with the front of his jeans.

You'd just gotten the button undone when his hands wrapped around your wrists, pulling them back as he pulled away from your kiss. You were left pouting, the sight adorable and pitiful enough to pull a laugh from Dallas as he set your hands down in your lap.

"This is for you, not me. Let me make you feel good."

Dallas focusing his sole attention on you? On pleasing you, no less? How could you refuse? Elated laughter bubbled in your chest as his hands slid up and underneath your skirt, the fabric bunching up around your hips. You helped him with a gentle lift of your hips, allowing him to hook his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, before slinking the fabric down your legs.

"You're going to cum on my tongue." He stated, tone full of nonchalance as he tossed your underwear toward the front of the car. "And, I want you over me when you do."

"You want me to sit on your face?" You asked, lips quirking up into a smile as you bit back laughter, truly believing he was joking. "Is that what you're asking me?"

Dallas only nodded, and only then did the realization of his request register in your mind. Heat prickled at the nape of your neck, spreading forward until it encompassed your chest in a deep blush. Sensing your nerves, Dallas's thumbs rubbed gentle circles above your hip bones, his head ducking down to meet your avoidant gaze.

"Hey," he whispered. "Ain't nothin' I haven't seen before. It'll feel good, doll, promise."

So, you allowed him to help you into a position that didn't have both of you groaning in discomfort. Maneuvering into a position where you straddled his shoulders, in the back of an already narrow car, wasn't exactly the easiest to accomplish. Somehow, you both managed, mostly thanks to Dallas's hands keeping you steady as you moved over him.

The chill of his silver rings bit into your thighs, keeping you sunk in the present, hovered over him as he looked up at you from below. There was nothing other than pure, unadulterated lust pouring from his eyes, pupils blown so heavily there was only a crescent of color visible. His fingers tapped, once and then again, a nonverbal request for you to lower yourself.

So you did.

He met you halfway, tongue licking a fat stripe up your cunt, delving between your folds to collect your essence against his tastebuds. He wanted to savor you, that much was readily apparent by his hardened grasp on your thighs, all but cementing you atop his face. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as a plethora of broken-off moans tumbled past your lips.

You begged for him, murmuring his name between praises lost on your ears, but not his. Each word, no matter how garbled by pleasure, left his hips rutting up into the air as he circled his tongue around your clit. Your hips moved in synchrony with his tongue, adjacent swirls, and he let you. He had always favored dominance, being in control of the situation, but having you atop him had him praising every divine figure he could conjure in his lust-riddled mind.

“Dallas-“ You crooned, the noise so sweet it pulled a moan from his chest, the vibration left directly against your aching cunt. You smiled, a mixture of a laugh and moan leaving you as your hands raked through his hair, tugging at the short strands. “So good, Dal.”

With an open-mouthed kiss to your clit, he pulled away. It was for a fraction of a second, needed to slip his right hand between your thighs, but you were left whining and pouting. He tutted from between your thighs, lips, and chin glistening with your cum.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispered as his middle and ring fingers pushed inside of you, delicately curling to brush against a spot that had your thighs clamping down around him. “It'll feel good, I promise.”

His left hand squeezed your hip, guiding you just as he would if you were riding him. You unconsciously followed his guidance, sliding down onto his fingers, before raising yourself, only to repeat the motion over, and over. Lewd squelches sounded from between your thighs, your cunt dripping a mixture of cum and saliva down onto his palm.

“See?” He asked through a breathy laugh, quickly resuming his position between your thighs. “Told ‘ya I’d make you feel better.”

You wanted to berate him for his cockiness, you truly did, but the feeling of his lips encircling your clit left you breathless. If anything, any ridicule would’ve turned into a garbled mess of his name.

A groan of a laugh reverberated in Dallas’s chest, yet he never pulled away. His tongue lapped at your clit, intervals of swirls and sucks following each grunt he managed to sound out. The sounds were carnal, stoking the steadily building flame in your lower stomach. Your fingers tightened their hold on his hair, pulling him closer, yourself closer. In truth, you weren’t sure if he could breathe, but neither of you moved from where you were.

“That’s it, doll.” He rasped, words hardly audible, muffled from your cunt. You managed a sighed moan in response, your hips rolling, sliding your cunt against his tongue. His fingers thrusted into you, mimicking the tempo of his eager tongue, each lap and circle of the muscle pushing you closer to the edge.

The uptake of an octave, your head rolling back as your eyes squeezed shut; Dallas knew each instinctual move of your body by heart. His eyes stayed locked on you, memorizing the sight of you coming undone above him, riding his face like a woman starved. His free hand lifted from your hip, curving around the plush of your ass, knowing he needed a tight hold on you to keep you steady.

“Dal-“

There it was, the familiar beckon of his name. His cock strained against the confines of his boxers, tip leaking precum, smearing against the now dampened fabric. His thighs tensed as his hips rolled, desperately seeking some form of reprieve as your cunt twitched around his fingers. Instead of verbalizing his reply, he squeezed the swell of your ass, wordlessly urging you to cum.

White-hot pleasure seared your veins, unconsciously twitching your limbs, tightening your hold on his hair. Your cunt spasmed, clit throbbing against his circling tongue. You cursed under your breath, eyes squeezed shut, mind solely focused on the ecstasy overtaking your body. Dallas grounded you with slow brushes of his hand along your thigh, fingers still inside of you, lips placing gentle kisses on your oversensitive clit.

“Alright?” He asked, tone rough enough to pull a surprised laugh from you. You nodded, threading your fingers through his hair.

“More than alright.” You replied. “Way more.”

Instead of hovering over his face for another second with wobbly legs, you moved yourself back, giving Dallas enough time to situate himself upright. His hands found your hips quickly after, gently guiding you back to his lap.

In an almost instinctive move, you lowered yourself to place your lips on his. His hands slid around your back, fingers absentmindedly grabbing at the fabric of your uniform as his lips moved with yours.

You braced yourself against the rear windshield, the slick condensation gathering in the palm of your hands, smearing your fingerprints down the pane as your lips moved against his. If anyone had passed by, anyone at all, they would've gathered what you both had gotten up to.

Neither of you could bring yourself to care, not when Dallas slipped his hands underneath the back of your shirt, his fingernails scraping along the curve of your back to have you closer as he sucked your tongue.

Your lips curved into a smile at the move, the lucrative, nearly addictive slide of his tongue against your own. He knew you, knew your body and how to make it tick. Your hips rocked against his lap, causing his already hard cock to twitch and pulse against the confines of his jeans.

"You're still hard," you rasped into the kiss, "I can make you feel good, too."

He groaned, his eyebrows knitting together as his hips bucked up into you. You bit at your bottom lip as you moved your hands from the rear windshield, letting your now cool skin slide down his front, keeping your eyes locked with his as you unzipped his jeans.

His lips parted in a silent moan as your hand slipped underneath the hem of his boxers, your fingers curling around the thick base of his cock. You could feel each twitch of his cock beneath your palm, the skin slick and warm, coated in his precum. You slid your hand up, leisurely pumping him, the act enough to have him grunting out your name.

You savored each lecherous moan that fell from his lips. With a shift of your hips, you centered yourself over his thigh, rolling your hips down in tandem with each stroke of his cock. You knew you were dampening the denim, soiling it, yet all you saw reflected in Dallas's eyes was the same debauchery you held heavy in your mind.

“Fuck me.” You begged, tired of the hassle, of denying yourself the most innate of pleasures. He relented with a lift of your body, allowing his hard cock to slide along your folds, catching against you. You watched as he lowered you onto him, his cock sliding into you deliciously slow.

Thin, red lines followed his nails as they dragged up the skin of your thighs, coming to a halt at your hips where he steadied you. You could feel his cock pulse inside of you, twitching just before your cervix. You watched him with bated breath, allowing him to guide each movement of your hips, and he did so with precision.

"So tight," he murmured, eyebrows knitted together in a mixture of pure lust and concentration, as though the mere sight of you atop him would undo him if he gave into it. "So fuckin' good."

All you could muster was a moan in response, your hips rolling forward, each forward motion brushing your clit against his lower stomach. Your thighs strained, muscles burning, yet you paid them no mind in favor of the persistent push of Dallas's cock, the way his tip brushed against your g-spot with each shift of his hips.

His eyes flitted, sight torn between your breasts and the needy, desperate look in your eyes. He shifted beneath you, planting his feet against the floorboard, giving himself enough stability to thrust upward, pushing himself deeper than before.

The shift in position forced the air from your lungs, a pitiful, broken-off mess of a moan passing your parted lips as you grasped his shoulders. He whispered something to you, but whatever it was had been lost on your muddled mind in favor of the budding feeling of ecstasy coiling in your lower stomach.

"Dallas-" You whined, the urgency in your call not lost on him. He nodded, wetting his lips as he rolled his hips upward. You could feel your arousal dripping between your thighs, smearing along your skin as well as his, coating his lower stomach in your cum.

"That's it, doll." He whispered, his left hand moving between your thighs to circle his thumb around your clit, rhythm syncing with each pump of his hips. "C'mon, cum for me."

Ecstasy coiled tight in your stomach, and with each swirl of his thumb and pump of his cock, you felt it twist tighter and tighter. Your hands moved from his shoulders, fingers threading through the back of his hair where you pulled. His mouth fell open, eyebrows lifting as an expression of shock-induced euphoria crossed his face.

So, you pulled harder, the harshness of your hold mirrored in the desperate way you fucked yourself on his cock, movements so frenzied you felt your muscles burning beneath your skin.

A deep, almost sinful moan rumbled in his chest. You swallowed it with a kiss to his lips, hands moving to his jaw as your tongue moved with his. His thumb was slick against your clit, and with a gasp of his name, your cunt spasmed around his cock.

"Fuck, that's it." He groaned, words strained as he teetered on the edge of his orgasm. "Let it out, doll."

Your lips moved from his, kisses trailing down his cheek, onto his jaw, before you settled your cheek to his shoulder, simply choosing to give yourself over to the onslaught of pleasure Dallas had you wrapped up in. Dallas's hold on your hip tightened as his head fell back, his eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched as his cock twitched inside of you, each pulse filling you with his cum.

You both shared the blissful silence that came afterward, the only noises being the occasional breath and whispered praise, the brush of his hands against your skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, words muffled by the press of his lips against your throat. "I'm sorry."

Apologies weren't common with Dallas. To his benefit, he hadn't done much to call for one, but this - this you appreciated. You nodded, leaning into his touch, his lips, with a thread of your fingers through his hair. He continued murmuring into your skin, you drank in each word, heart slowing in your chest, calming with the promises he spoke only to you.

His hand moved from your hip, thumb, and forefinger resting against your chin, tipping your head up to meet his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed together, skin coated in a thin veneer of sweat. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip, yet his eyes never left yours.

"You're my girl." He whispered, and you nodded. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."

You placed a kiss on the pad of his thumb, the sincerity in his words causing you to smile. He smiled in return, fingers splaying against your cheek where he held you gently.

"It won't happen again, alright?"

His words were soft, the sentiment mirrored in his eyes. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He met your embrace with one of his own, wrapping his arms around the small of your back, hands gently caressing between your shoulder blades.

"Good apology, been workin' on it for a while?" You joked, placing a kiss on his jaw with a soft bout of laughter. You felt him laugh, the vibration of his chest against yours.

"Nope." He admitted, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. "You're worth a genuine apology."

"Sap." You teased, but your tone gave way to your true feelings, how much you appreciated his honesty, his words. He caught on, but never made it known, instead choosing to reply with another kiss to your skin.

"Yeah, guess I am."

A/N: Siri, play "Lover, You Should've Come Over" by Jeff Buckley, please! No, but seriously, I finished this piece with that song on repeat. Alas, I am not dead! I won't lie, I've suffered with pretty damn bad writers block. Somehow, I finished this. I hope you all like it! Thank you for your continuous support of me and my work, I value you all more than I could ever put into words! I hope this piece makes up for my time gone, see it as an early Valentine's gift!

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reallyromealone · 7 months

Note

May I request Leona K. x male reader? Reader is like Isabella Madrigal from Encanto. He is florokinetic, is beautiful and graceful in every way, and has a sass streak. Maybe just enemies to lovers? Thank you, and take your time!

Title: careful it's carnivorous

Pairing: Leona kingscholar x reader

Fandom: twisted wonderland

Warnings:

Notes:

☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️

Flowers.

Everywhere.

God Leona hated spring, it was when his least favorite classmate was fully... Himself.

Everyone knew (name), his floral magic was like nothing anyone had seen before and annoyingly perfect as he provided professor Crewel a flower he needed through magic.

"We will be pairing our all in groups of two, the names for each group are on the chart by the door" Crewel said simply as the class ended, each student going to check theit name on the list before leaving "oh you have to be kidding" (name) grumbled as he looked at the chart, his name was right beside the most insufferable person at this schools, Leona Kingscholar. "You better pull your weight!" (Name) seethed and Leona rolled his eyes "why don't you stop telling me what to do?" He drawled out with a catty smile, (name) fuming before storming off.

Leona grumbled as he walked into the greenhouse, (name) already gone to work at collecting things "couldn't you just magic the supplies? Or is your magic just good for making flowers" Leona said mockingly and (name) rolled his eyes "it would be unfair of us to do that, I'm not gonna cheat my way through this" now it was Leona's turn to roll his eyes as he looked at (name) "what are we even doing?"

"Luck potion" an extremely difficult potion, one mistake and they wouldn't even remotely have time to make a new one with its fermenting process.

"You think we can handle that?"

"If you stop lazing around, we absolutely could" (name) was self-assured, as always and Leona scoffed at him "god you're insufferable"

"I can't, I'm sorry" (name) said over the phone, it was known in the Pomefiore dorm that (name) had a complex relationship with his family, especially his grandmother who treated him like a trophy of sorts "I-im sorry, I have too many commitments here"

Another engagement offer.

He wasn't some bargaining chip.

After phone calls, he often found himself sitting in the greenhouse alone, frustration and hurt seeped through him as he let his composure slip, god he was just so done.

Being the eldest of seven, the responsibilities fell on him aways and he knew he made his grandma upset when he chose night ravens college over royal swords academy but he did it because he wanted this school, it had what he wanted.

Leona sighed as he walked through the halls of the academy, doing the patrols before bed when he saw a familiar figure walk towards the greenhouse "oh?" Well tonight was sure interesting to say the least, after all... "Wow, the perfect one breaking a rule? Isn't this funny" (name) turned to see Leona smirk down at him "just... Shut up" (name) whispered as he stood up "you can be cocky and shit but just... Shut up for once" (name) whispered as vines grew around the garden "can't you just leave me alone for once?"

"Wow, wheres the bite you usually have? Come on, pretty boy" Leona taunted and (name) felt his patience wear thin "can you just fuck off!" He yelled as cacti grew around them, the two stunned "you can grow those?"

"Apparently I can" (name)s grandmother always told him he could only grow flowers... "So why are you out here, little Mr. Perfect?" (Name)s mood shifted as he glared at him "oh shut up, you lazy ass!" He spat back and Leona grinned, there was the snarky flower boy he knew and hated "god you can't shit your trap! God if you could use that energy for being a shit maybe use it for our project!"

"And maybe you could stop being so annoying for once and I would actually want to do it!"

"Asshole!"

"Priss!"

And somehow, (name)s foul mood about his grandmother was gone as the two argued down the ball and a tiny cactus with two flowers on it sat in the greenhouse.

The following day, Leona grumbled as he felt vines grab his ankle "hurry up before I drag you!" (Name) said as he strutted down the hall, looking flawless as Leona glared but followed, other students admiring (name) as he passed and bloomed flower crowns on each of their heads.

"(Name)" malleus said softly, staring down (name) as he and Ace were leaving the lab "Malleus" (name) said coldly, leaning back when malleus got closer "absolutely not, we are not doing this again" (name) glared and waved a bunch of flowers at his face as he and Leona went into the lab, locking the door behind them "I know he's insufferable but what was that about?" Leona stretched and (name) rolled his eyes, taking out their supplies from the small lockers they reserved.

"My grandmother tried to have me engaged to him, malleus was all for it but I said no because god if I have to hear about gargoyles one more time..."

"He never shuts up about them, also how is it I manage to show up to things before him!" Leona fired back as they started the project, both talking heatedly about the fae prince.

It was the first time they agreed on something.

After that, their conversations were less hostile and Leona actually found himself enjoying (name)s company.

(Name) walked into the greenhouse later in the afternoon and saw Leona sleeping in a sun beam, rolling his eyes at this (name) grabbed a notebook he forgotten and went to walk out but before he did... "He's sleeping, he won't know" and like that a leaf grew right where the sun was hitting his eyes.

Only Leona was awake and was smirking as (name) clicked the door shut.

After that, working with (name) was far more tolerable, the two actually not going at each other much to everyones surprise and when something strange happens... Rumors start.

"Apparently, you and I are engaged because you blackmailed my family" (name) teased as he looked over the sleeping hybrid "really? I heard we had a passionate makeout session after you confessed to me with a bouquet of roses" Leona said back and the two chuckled at the nonsense that their classmates came up with as they focused on their work-- well (name) did, Leona relaxed in the corner.

Then his phone went off.

Again

And again

"Hello grandma, yes I did hear--- well I am not interested in him! So I'm not marrying him! I don't care if he's a good connection!" (Name) angrily hung up And Leona raised an eyebrow "she sounds like a bitch" Leona said simply and (name) sighed "she isn't the best" (name) mumbled "she wants me to marry someone so she can get up in the social latter... But I would rather eat glass then be with the people she offered me to"

"Who would you want?"

"Someone who isn't pretentious, not going to put me in a box and doesn't make me act perfect"

"Act?"

"You think I want to be like this? Perfect? Unable to make a mistake?"

He just wanted to garden.

And that is when Leona fell.

(Name) was awkward after the project finished, looking over at Leona who was about to fall asleep but took notice of (name)s slight deflation "come on rabbit food" Leona grumbled as he dragged a confused (name) "where are we going?"

"Don't worry about it princess" (name) looked offended at the nickname, he was a prince at least!

And that's when it happened, in a forgotten corner of the school.

A kiss.

"Still think you're an ass"

#twst x reader #twst leona #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona x male reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar #anime x male reader #anime x reader

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innistable · 25 days

Text

Talk talk (snippet) [Full fic coming 10/07/2024] [1/4]

jason todd x reader

summary: the sequence of events that led you and your neighbor, Jason Todd, to fall in love. For better of for worse.

a/n: I'm new to tumblr and I'm still getting the hang of this. English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Please, like and reblog if you are interested in reading the full fic, any comment is highly appreciated.

word count: 2k

Your grandmother had always been a superstitious woman, constantly talking about those omens lying everywhere, praying to be seen, both as a warning sign or as a blissful encounter. However, you have never been the one to pay attention to that, not caring about cats, stairs, corners, clover and everything in between, especially in a city like Gotham, where you don’t need an auspice to know that danger is close.

For all of its sketchiness, Gotham City is a pretty straightforward place, there is always something happening, you may not see it, but it is there, an uneasiness that you can’t quite shake, hiding in a blind spot, a shadow in the corner of your eye. Still, in this precise moment, you wish that you had paid attention to something, omen or not, maybe the gray sky had been a good pointer that it was going to rain, maybe for once you could have listened to weather forecast, and maybe, just maybe, you should have just stayed at home after you saw that black cat licking one of its wounds on the fire escape.

The point of all this is that it is raining, pouring, it’s one of those rainfalls that’s so loud and strong that it makes you think that the sky is being torn apart. Now you are on your knees, blue jeans now wet and grayish against the cold pavement, trying to retrieve your scattered groceries.

It went like this: a few harmless droplets when you were cornering Monolith Square to take the bus after spending the evening seeing the Wayne Botanical Garden; on the bus, you were reading a book, something short and too pretentious for its own good, suddenly, the driver was using the windshield wiper and you noticed that the window view was then translucent, being barely able to make out the street silhouettes, it all became a blurry heap of buildings, street lamps and ill-defined legs, torsos and heads; then, you recognized the “C” Building, your stop, so you pressed the button, the bus slowed down and opened its door, outside a storm awaited.

It’s a two hundred meter walk to your apartment, but what normally was easy, it turned into a midday odyssey, strong winds and warm water made the route unbearable, your tote bag felt heavier by every passing second and just when you were in front of your building, keys in hand, your bag tore by the seams, and all of its contents fell to the ground.

It’s frustrating and you feel like screaming, it’s not the worst thing to ever happen to you, but it does feel like it is, probably because Gotham is some kind of cruel mistress, no matter how hard you try to play by its rules, it always ends up having a way to humble you, you might try to avoid trouble, but it ends up finding you, one way or another. You have this kind of overwhelming sentiment that makes your eyes sting when you see the damp sugar on the floor, just next to the trinkets you got from the Wayne Botanical Garden and your favorite brand of cookies.

The rain seems to feel your distress and it starts pouring even more. Great.

“Need help?” a voice asks.

You have never been a very religious person, but when you hear those words dripped in that thick gothamite accent that sometimes makes your stomach churn, you think that perhaps there is something out there that has decided to glance your way for once, and that for once, it felt pity for you.

“Yes.” you say.

You look up and see a tall man, gruff, huge. He has dry blood on his upper lip, a thin scab, dark maroon, recent but not too fresh. His hair is black, tousled, with a white streak on the front, and it seems a little bit damp, locks sticking to his forehead. His skin seems thick, probably because it is littered with scars, white dents on his skin, some big and some small, you don’t think too much about it, it’s Gotham, everyone has some scars around here, from gunshots to safety accidents on the swings of Robinson Park. His eyes are blue, almost icy, and his pupil is enveloped by vibrant green hues, his gaze seems curious and fixated, he is analyzing you, the same way you are analyzing him, ‘fair’ you think. He wears a worn out hoodie, overused, with grease spots and frayed holes, he is wearing also a pair of black shorts, the ones you use for running or going to the gym, and he’s also using trainers, the label says Numa instead of Puma, they are probably from the street markets that you can find around in every corner of Gotham.

He is alluring, you concede, even handsome. But that doesn’t matter, because he is kind. Gotham is isolating, people keep to themselves, they look the other way, not because they are necessarily assholes, but because they have clear boundaries, they distinguish your business from their business, and unless those two spheres intersect, they don’t see a reason to cross the line, it’s easier that way. Therefore, unapologetic kindness is not something easy to come across; in fact, you would be wary of it, if it wasn’t for the fact that he has a plastic bag and is taking your milk carton from the ground. Thank you, that’s what your eyes say.

For Jason it goes like this.

He is in his apartment, for the first time in days. It’s Wednesday and on Saturday he had a complicated patrol with Nightwing, the kind of complicated that leaves your face scarlet and body mauve, the type of convoluted patrol that leaves you aching for days, movements limited and a sore spot under your sixth rib.

He was kept in the Manor until yesterday evening, not because he wanted to, but because he was forced to. I can take care of myself he grumbled, but then Afred got this look in his eyes, not the one that says I am disappointed, he doesn’t care about that, he is used to disappointing, to failed expectations and lists of unspoken requirements he will never meet, it’s fine, what’s not fine is the other look, the one that softly whispers You are breaking my heart, master Jason, and Jason doesn’t want to do that, not to Alfred, who seems the only one ready to accept him for what he is now and not clinging to an old memory of what could have been. So, he stayed, receiving medical care from Leslie and Alfred, but he left as soon as he could.

Alfred had asked if he was staying for dinner, even though at this point it’s more of a silent plea, some sort of want for him to stay for once, to really be part of the family, to act like one, but Jason never agrees. The thing is, Jason never stays, he flees, he doesn’t do goodbyes or excuses, he is not a Wayne, perhaps he was at some point, when he was loud and excitable, full of wonder, but that part of him died, and no magic or god can bring that back, some things stay dead and maybe it’s better off that way.

The point is that he was finally back at his apartment. The closest thing he had to a proper home. It was small, he could afford bigger, he had bigger, but it began being just a plain safehouse, some impersonal storage unit to keep ammo, League weapons, gear, etc. However, at some point, he started spending nights there, probably because it was in a nice part of Gotham, Midtown, without the constant chaos from Uptown, where he mostly operated, but still far away from the haughtiness ever so characteristic of Downtown Gotham. It was a perfect balance, not too much, not too little, and Jason likes evenness, equilibrium, perhaps because most days he tethers the line between sanity and insanity so he appreciates any resemblance of stability he can grasp onto.

He arrived yesterday at 20:30, ordered delivery from the mexican restaurant a few blocks away, and fell asleep watching reruns from an old, mildly successful tv show. He likes the background noise, when everything is too quiet, he starts imagining things: footsteps, the sound of a crowbar against his flat’s parquet, screams and wails, the sound of a ticking bomb, etc. He likes everything that makes his subconscious believe that he is not alone.

His morning wasn’t different from any other mornings and that was fine. Jason enjoys routines, the predictable. He enjoys his usual morning channel; the black cat that visits him every morning to silently ask for food; the cadence of his neighbors footsteps as they run around their flat trying to get the kids ready for school and Roy’s texts. There is no sign that today is going to be different, and he likes that. He hits the gym, as always. He prepares lunch, nothing fancy. He reads, today it is The Master and Margarita, he is one hundred pages in, he marks words, phrases, writes thoughts on the margins and slowly makes his way through. He journals, he is not much of a poet, not that he wants to; he might be tortured, but he is not an artist, words more times than not get stuck on his throat, scratching like barbed wire against his larynx, drawing blood; however, Dinah, also known as Black Canary, who acts as his psychologist via Roy, advised him to write, she told him that it could help, sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t, he keeps doing it anyway.

When the clock marks 17:23, he gets bored, so he goes to his balcony. It’s sad, but he lives his days anticipating the nights; he likes patrolling, he savors the adrenaline, he basks on the rush, he thrives under the light of traffic and streetlights; daylight stuns him, he doesn’t really know how to navigate the world once the sun has risen, it’s disorientating. Therefore, he just rots, he decays around his apartment, and now he feels like festering on his balcony. Suddenly, it starts to rain. It begins as a drizzle, so he doesn’t really care, he takes a cigarette, he lights it up and takes a puff.

He started to smoke when he came back to life, his dad used to do it, his mom too, everyone in Crime Alley did it, since it helped you to stay warm. When he was younger, he didn’t like it, back then when he was the bright-eyed Robin and he treated his body like a temple because Batman told him to do so, back when the only thing he wanted was to prove himself worthy, something he never was. His body as Robin was a temple; his body as the Red Hood are the ruins of a long forgotten empire that lived its own demise, and no one cares about ruins, why should he?

His first cigarette was given to him by Egon, one of the first mercenaries who trained him after his resurrection; then, the habit sticked, after all the life he chose, the life he lives, happens on dimly lit bars and dingy hideouts where a thick layer of smoke covers everything, it’s only normal that he smokes. Furthermore, he admits, there is some kind of masochist element to it, at first, the smell of smoke was enough to send him to a panic attack, since it reminded him of bombs, collapsed buildings, screeching manic laughs and charred skin; smoke was what filled his lungs when he gave his last breath, so if he was able to control the panic that the smell evoked, that meant that he won, in some way, in any form, it may be a consolation prize, but a prize nevertheless.

So he smokes and the rain starts falling with more force, but he doesn’t bother going inside, he likes the feeling of the droplets against his skin, it’s nice, it feels real. He looks down and he sees you, hunched over picking things from the floor and, after a few heartbeats laced with smoke, he decided to go down and help.

He sees you up close, eyes fixed in your face, taking in every detail, engraving them on his memory as he does with everyone. Right now, the world doesn’t tilt on his axis, there are no sweaty palms or rushed breaths, nothing has stopped, it doesn’t feel like something monumental, but it is.

He helps you and accompanies you to your apartment, it’s on the second floor - his is on the fourth - and he feels content about knowing someone new after Roy has been nagging him about needing to be friendlier and meet other people. He doesn’t talk much, he never does, he tells you his name and his apartment number, it’s enough for such a small talk. You thank him and it feels nice. He leaves and you close the door, it’s enough for today.

Like and reblog for the full fic

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam fanfic #red hood #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood fanfiction #dc comics #dc universe #dcu

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witchywithwhiskey · 5 months

Note

Hey hey! How about...

16. trying something new

With...😏

first-time plant parents

pairing: husband!ari levinson x female reader

warnings: domestic fluff, referenced smut (not really 18+ but i'd always rather minors do not interact!), kissing, little bit of dry humping, non-graphic sex, pet names (sunshine)

word count: 1,500ish

a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt Navy!!! i have no excuse for this except i just think starting a vegetable garden with ari would be neat 🤷🏼‍♀️ this is so so so so self-indulgent but i hope y'all enjoy ♡♡

You were surprised by how good it felt to get your hands dirty, your fingers sinking into the rich soil as you scooped some up and patted it down around the tomato seedling you’d just planted. Sitting back on your heels, you looked down the row of tomatoes you’d finished planting, a sense of accomplishment settling deep into your body and making you smile to yourself.

But it seemed you weren’t the only one to take pride in your efforts, as a warm, familiar voice called, “Lookin’ good, sunshine,” from the other side of the small vegetable garden you and your husband had set up in your backyard.

Lifting your eyes from the row of tomato seedlings you’d carefully planted, your gaze collided with that of your husband, Ari Levinson, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling in the bright spring sunshine. His grin was wide as he used a hand to push his golden brown hair back from his face, pride and affection shining in his gaze as he looked at you.

Your smile widened in return, and you raised a hand to shade your eyes so you could see his progress. “How’re the herbs coming?” you asked, your eyes skimming along the basil, rosemary and mint you’d decided to plant. They were in their own planter boxes to ensure they didn’t overrun the garden, and it looked like your husband was done with the task. “They look good.”

You’d never had a vegetable garden before—at least, not one of your own. Your grandmother had one when you were little, your father taking you into the impressively large garden to show you where they’d planted spinach and tomatoes and green beans and rhubarb.

But with that garden long since gone and both your grandmother and father having passed, you’d told Ari you wanted to try your hand at growing some veggies of your own. Your husband had been excited to try it, even though he had less experience than you.

But he’d jumped into it as eagerly as you, digging up a little plot in your backyard and setting up a fence so that the animals didn’t get to your herbs and veggies. The garden was bigger than the meager crop you’d decided to plant that first year—just the herbs, your tomatoes and some spinach—but Ari said the two of you would grow into it.

“Do they look as good as your husband?” Ari asked teasingly, drawing you out of your thoughts and back into the moment.

You couldn’t help but smile as you got to your feet, brushing your hands off on your shorts and picking your way across the garden to your husband. You bent down to look at the planter boxes, making a show of assessing his work in planting the herbs. When you’d drawn it out long enough, you stood back up and looked to your husband, having to stifle a laugh when you saw he’d somehow managed to get streaks of dirt across his forehead.

“They look better than you,” you said, barely contained laughter making your voice waver as you reached up and tried to brush the dirt from Ari’s forehead, asking, “How did you manage to get dirt here?” However, since your hands were also covered in dirt, you only managed to make things worse. Ari laughed at your wince of apology.

“I think you’ve got a little something, too,” he said playfully, brushing his dirty fingers over the tip of your nose. You were certain you didn’t have any dirt on your nose, which meant he’d just gotten you dirty for no good reason.

Gasping in mock outrage, you jumped back as he reached for your face again, knocking his hand away. “Don’t get me more dirty than I already am!” you cried, but you were laughing as you fended off your husband’s filthy, reaching hands.

You danced around the garden, trying to avoid Ari and your plants, but after a few moments, you decided to go on the offensive. “Let’s see how you like getting dirty!” you yelled, darting close to your husband and swiping your fingers across Ari’s cheek, leaving behind a new streak of dirt above the line of his beard.

However, Ari didn’t let you escape, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and hauling you up against his chest. “Do your worst, sunshine,” he challenged, laughing right along with you.

Since his hands were busy holding onto you and yours were free, you brushed even more dirt on his cheeks, giggling as you got him even dirtier. But it wasn’t long before your giggles died down and the two of you were left pressed against one another, your chests heaving as you caught your breath and stared into each other’s eyes.

You could feel your body warming, which seemed to be a natural reaction to your husband’s closeness, your nipples tightening and heat sinking low to settle in your core. Squirming in Ari’s arms, you could feel your expression change, your eyes turning pleading as an aching need built up in your body.

“Stop looking at me like that, sunshine,” Ari rumbled, a gruff warning in his tone. You could feel his body responding to you, his arousal digging into your belly and making your legs tremble beneath you. “Or I’m liable to take you right here—garden be damned.”

Ari’s words sent new tendrils of heat curling through your body, even as they knocked some sense into you and you managed a playful gasp, pressing a hand to your chest as you pretended to be scandalized. “Not in front of the plants, Ari,” you scolded, your tone more flirtatious than chastising.

Your husband grinned, squeezing you tighter, and ducked down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that had you melting against his chest. Your fingers dove into Ari’s beard, clinging to him and holding him close while you devoured each other. When you whimpered into the kiss and rocked your body against Ari’s bulge, he pulled away with a groan.

“Sunshine,” he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours and drawing in deep, heavy breaths that pushed his chest against yours in the most delicious way. “If you don’t want our little seedlings exposed to our dirty deeds so early in their lives, you’re gonna have to let me take you inside now,” he murmured in a serious tone, but you could see the corners of his mouth flickering with his need to grin. “Because the idea of seeing you blissed out and satisfied in the garden we made is sounding better by the second.”

“Then take me inside, husband,” you said huskily, a smirk tugging at the edges of your lips, “because you are not fucking me the dirt.”

Wrapping one of his hands around the back of your neck, Ari held you still while he kissed you again, his tongue plundering your mouth until your mind was fuzzy and you’d mostly forgotten where you were. You knew that had been Ari’s intention when his lips trailed along your jaw, nipping and kissing your skin until his mouth brushed the edge of your ear.

“What if I made love to you in the grass?” he rumbled teasingly, bending down to grab your leg and hitch it over his hip so he could press his bulge into the apex of your thighs. His grunt was loud in your ear, but it didn’t drown out the low, filthy moan that slipped from your lips.

Still, you weren’t so far gone that you’d let Ari have his way with you just anywhere. “What about the shower?” you countered, your voice high-pitched and breathy, making your husband chuckle as he kissed down your neck.

Then you were shrieking in surprise and delight as Ari hauled you off your feet and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you into the house to finish what you’d started. He took you in the shower, the two of you laughing as much as you kissed, taking turns washing the grime of dirt from each other’s skin before sinking into the familiar rhythm of your bodies coming together.

Later, when you were both sated and clean and the sun was sinking lower toward the horizon, you stood in the grass outside the fence of your humble little vegetable garden. Ari stood at your back, his arms circling your waist and holding you close as you both took pride in the work you’d accomplished that day.

“Do you think we’ll be good first-time plant parents?” you asked softly, your fingers trailing idly through the hair on Ari’s arms. Tilting your head to the side, you wondered if you’d watered the newly transplanted seedlings enough to make the transition easier for them.

“I think we’ll do our best,” Ari murmured, curling his body around yours and pressing a kiss to your temple while he squeezed you tighter in his arms. “I think we’ll give them all the love they need, and I think they’ll flourish because of it.”

A pleased smile curved your lips and you hummed in agreement, leaning back further against Ari, knowing your husband spoke the truth. After all, you’d done the same with each other—you’d given each other all the love in your hearts and both of you had flourished. Ari was your partner, your husband, the love of your life, and you wouldn’t want to be first-time plant parents with anyone but him.

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fluff #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fluff #chris evans characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #navybrat817

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myladysapphire · 1 year

Text

My Lady Strong (I)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 1,645

CW: childbirth, Aegon being Aegon, Bullying, child abuse, fear of the dark, refrences to torture, loving parents, oc is described to have brown hair, streaked with silver and purple eyes

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen (can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | next part

disclamer: i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire charecters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all charecters are his except for my OC

When Rhaenyra fell pregnant for a second time, she knew it would be different.

For the birth of Jacaerys, her pregnancy was followed with mass celebrations, house Veleryon showering her with gifts, proud that a child with Velaryon blood would sit on the iron throne. But after his birth, the celebrations ceased. Whispers swept through the court, questioning his birth. But after a few months, many came to the agreement it was his grandmother Rhaenys Baratheon’s blood shining through, she once looked more Baratheon than Targeryen and the child was merely taking after her.

But then she fell pregnant again, and though she was once more greeted with celebrations, the court held its breath.

One child born with the Baratheon looks was one thing, genetics was a mystery and it was pure chance he had brown hair and eyes.

But if this child too had the ‘Baratheon looks’ then it would all but confirm the rumours queen Alicent spun.

But that was not why Rhaenyra felt this pregnancy to be different, unlike her first pregnancy, she had different symptoms, morning skinniness, new cravings, and where before she had always had clear skin she was getting pimples and spots. She hoped for a girl, having always wanted a little sister, and now she would have a daughter. She had only ever imagined having girls, and though she was not disappointed at having a boy when the masters spoke of their predictions of it being a girl, she got a little jump in her step.

So, when she went into labour, whilst the court held its breath waiting for the legitimacy of her children to be confirmed, she held her excitement over having a daughter.

The day of her labour was not cheerful, the skies were grey and cloudy and when her contractions began rain fell from the sky, a storm from Stormsend having reached KingsLanding.

With the wind rattling against the windows, and thunder striking down from the sky, the family waiting outside, Viserys pacing the halls. Alicent biting her nails. This labour was tough, though Jacaerys birth had been easy, this had taken double the time his had, her screams, louder than even the storm raging outside. And when it all stopped the family feared the worse.

The young prince Aemond, only eighteen moons old had awoken, screaming insisting he is with his mother. Only to arrive just in time to hear his niece's screams and his eldest sister's laughter.

He rushed into her room, not even allowing time for his father to check on his daughter, before jumping up (as well as a toddler could) and sitting next to his sister insisting on holding his niece. Tired from the labour Rhaenyra agreed.

When her father and Alicent finally entered, they were quick to approach. Alicent caught a glimpse of black hair streaked with silver.

“A girl?” Viserys questioned, smiling down at the babe in Aemonds arms.

Nodding, Rhaenyra smiled “Aemma” she declared, causing a delighted laugh to leave Viserys mouth.

“She looks just like her, the Arryn genes are strong with her it seems, she even has your mother’s eyes.” And she did, Arryn blue eyes, not violet, as she had dreamed, but perfect.

She had attempted to take Aemma back from Aemond, but he had not let go, simply smiling and babbling to his niece, his Aemma.

As the years went by Aemond continued to stay with Aemma, scarcely letting her stray from his sight, his hand always holding hers. Where one was, the other was always near. Being the only two without a dragon, his never hatching, and her own destroyed along following the storm on the day of her birth, they had the same lessons, with no dragon lessons, they were very rarely apart.

Aemma had grown into a sweet, beautiful, and intelligent girl. Her looks compared to that of her great-grandmother, Daella, alongside her sweet nature. She had an innocence around her, being the middle child and only girl of her mother, her mother wished to preserve the child-like wonder for her daughter, wishing to grant her daughter the childhood of being the heir and the only child of a king stolen from her. Aemond was all too pleased to keep her like this, wanting to preserve her wonder, her need for him. Though book smart, the sheltered life she lived kept her from the real world. She was even protected from rumours, though they still were whispered, all desired to keep her from them.

She was a kind girl and underserving of the cruelty of court, but even that did not protect her from her family. Alicent had always been fond of her, always allowing her near her children, being kind, braiding her hair and even commissioning gifts for her. She was close to Heleana, the pair, whenever Aemond left her alone, often found each other’s company. Aemma was one the few people to share her interest in insects, even going out of her way to collect any that she thought Heleana might enjoy. But Aegon and her brothers were another story. Aegon was a jealous person, envying his niece for the kindness his mother never found him, so he took it out on her.

When Jacaerys let slip Aemma’s fear of the dark, an idea struck him.

The black cells.

Aemma rarely slept alone, with Aemond often sneaking in and sleeping with her, hating the moments apart even when they sleep. When he was sick, they often slept apart, his fear of catching his illness, however little or contagious it was. And her chambers always had candles lit for when she did sleep, a reassurance that whatever lurked in the dark was stopped by the glow of a candle.

Aegon waited for Aemond to fall ill, for a time he knew she would be alone. And snuck into her chambers, her brothers by his side.

It was the dead of night, the boys aged 9 and 6 tired but willing to please their uncle, snuck into her rooms and carried her through the keep down to the third level of black cells.

Being a deep sleeper, she didn’t wake once, not even flinch when Aegon picked her up and then dumped her in the cells.

They had run off giggling, thinking it a brilliant prank, and a way to cure her of her fear, as Aegon put it.

They had thought it would be overcome morning, that she would wake in the dark before finding the door and leaving.

None of them expected her to be locked in there for a week, they did not know the doors were locked and only opened from the outside.

The keep was in disarray searching for her, neither boy spoke up, fear of their punishment keeping them.

Aemond was driving everyone mad, ordering and screaming for her to be found. He was normally a shy quiet boy, unsure of himself. But with his Aemma missing all that was left of him was a madman.

The rest of the keep was in disarray. All guards were on the lookout for the princess, searching high and low. She had completely disappeared, without a trace.

The boys were growing nervous, they couldn’t admit to what had been done and they feared the black cells too much to return and retrieve her.

Aemma had woken in complete darkness, she could even see her hand it was so dark.

She could hear screaming as if they were her own, but she didn’t notice, she didn’t even notice as she crawled forward in her small cell and pounded on the door, begging to be let out. Or as she threw her guts up after hours of screaming and pounding.

She did notice when it all went quiet. When even her screams stopped when the screams of the criminals being tortured turned quiet.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, there was no way to tell day from night.

She slept when she collapsed, her tears lulling her into a tormented sleep, her stomach empty and churning.

She had no food nor water, the dungeon master had no clue she was down here, and no one did.

Not until a week had passed and Aemond dreamt of the black cells. She had refused to rest till she was found, but collapsing from exhaustion lead to his dream, leading his startling awake, and his racing to the cells. Ser Criston Cole was quick to follow him, though he did not care for the girl he still had a duty as a kingsguard. She was found after three hours of searching, three hours of Aemond shouting and ordering guards to search every cell on every level.

Ser Harwin Strong found her, he and her mother had, like Aemond, not stopped, fearing the worse, had not rested. When he found her she was sitting in the corner, head between her legs, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her face. She was thin, with chapped lips, her face red and puffed with her never-ending tears.

She screamed when the light poured in, shuffling back into her corner.

“Aemma” Harwin breathed, before alerting the rest of the guard, Aemond came running over, taking her into his arms.

“Aemma” he cooed, taking her hand, she had flinched back from Harwin when he took her hand, but with Aemond she took it, and jumped in his arms, tears falling from her eyes once more. “it’s ok…it’s ok… your safe now” he spoke softly, stroking her hair.

Maesters were quick to attend to her, she was weak and dehydrated. And her mind was still in a panic. She refused to let go of Aemond, using him as a shield when her brothers and Aegon paid her a visit.

She never said who had done it, but her distance and new timid nature around her brothers and uncle was proof enough for Aemond.

But he couldn’t do anything, he was a victim of their bullying. Though they never did something similar or remotely as cruel again, Aemonds crazed state was enough for them to leave Aemma and him alone, at least until the pink dread.

a/n more of an intro chapter, half edited

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