#but my cat is nursing me back to health :)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hello Stranger. Whom I have never met.

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[angelnumber27]

lil baby

[bigender-cowboy]

People don’t believe my partner when he says I gave him a whole ass cat but I did and when they realize it’s true they are flabbergasted

[zishuge]

Oooof Tushan Jing being the younger brother who is world-renowned as an elegant and accomplished scholar and musician, who ends up being locked up in a dungeon and tortured for years by a jealous older brother who then throws him out into the street to die, and tells him, "Without your fancy clothes and without your noble status you're nothing".

"Qingqiu-gongzi is just a joke."

God this is 1000000% exactly what Shan Gudao would've done to Li Xiangyi if he had had the chance and now I badly want to read that fic.

[odericevertz]

quick excerpt from pacrim wip under the cut in hopes it will motivate me to keep hacking away at it

The water a clear, sparkling teal. From up here Kai could see that the cliffs went deep, deep down; beneath that it was too cloudy to make out anything else except the large, indistinct shadow that lurked under, spreading from the easternmost cliff formation like an ink stain. His throat tightened.

“Found it while diving a few days ago,” Joao said quietly. He had come up behind Kai and was staring at it now, too, with that mix of fear and wonder that people always wore when they saw a Jaeger for the first time. The memory hit Kai like a slap, then: Julian in the hangar, looking up and up and up at Cherno, dappled in shadow by the floodlights, that same look on his face. Is she ours? “It’s a small miracle, that no one’s found it yet.”

Miracle implied that Kai had some sort of divine favour on his side, which he found so amusing that he smiled despite the ache in his chest. “Can you take me to her?”

“Of course,” Joao said immediately, kicking off his slippers and turning an expectant look on Kai.

Kai blinked at him, uncomprehending. “What?”

Mischief crept onto Joao’s face, a much more familiar expression than the solemn, quiet look he’d worn the whole walk here. “Kai,” he said. “You have to jump.”

[tamagotchikgs]

last night i was poking around in my mouth as u do and i reached back where i had always felt this hard thing w my tongue for awhile now but was like ah maybe it's just like. my gums being inflamed in the back or smthn BUT,, no i poked that thing with my fingernail n it is a tooth that is a whole ass wisdom tooth

[shinehyuk]

really really sorry for not being active on here but i just haven't had motivation for anything these days and that probably won't pass until sometime after christmas :(

school's been a bother and i've just been feeling weird these days?? i'm not sure why.

if you see me disappearing again, know that I'm fine, just unmotivated, tired and confused 🙏 <3

[madamtrashbat]

When I was ten, we lived on a rice farm with a lot of big buildings in the middle of nowhere. One of the shitty employees of the rice farm decided that, because we had barn cats on the premises, it was perfectly fine to dump a litter of very small kittens into one of the barns.

(I hate her I hate her I hate her)

The kittens were not old enough to be on their own, and despite one of the barn cats looking after them, the majority of them did not make it. All except for one, a little tuxedo that let my dad pick it up.

He brought it into the house, and I decided I was going to nurse it back to health. He was mostly black with a white chin, little white toes, and a white belly. He was so small. I fell in love with him.

I named him Pookie.

He would curl up in the crook of my neck and sleep on my shoulder, where it was warm. He was eating the cat food I mushed up with water, and for three days I thought he might make it.

Then, inexplicably, our dog Fancy, a heeler/shepherd mix, attacked him in the laundry room. She had never done anything like that before and never did anything like that afterwards. I never knew why she did what she did.

I begged my parents to take him to the vet. Please, see if there's anything we can do. I want to save him so badly.

But we had very little money at the time, and my mom couldn't justify an enormous vet bill for a cat we'd had for less than a week that there was surely nothing to do for.

I put him in his basket that night with food and water and many blankets. He had no external injuries besides a nosebleed, so I hoped it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

He didn't see the morning. My dad buried him in the flowerbed without much ado.

I cried for two days into the arms of an unsympathetic mother who didn't understand why I felt so strongly over a cat we'd had for three days, bombarded with criticism from a judgmental sister who severely disliked cats. My dad did his best to try and comfort me, but he's not the best with emotions and didn't know what to say.

It has stuck with me for 20 years. I wonder, from time to time, if I did enough. If I'd kept him in my room instead of the laundry room, if I'd looked up how to care for him, if I'd kept closer watch on him and kept the dog away from him, would he have lived. Would he still have been my cat. Would he have known a life of love and warm fireplaces and full bellies and cuddling into my shoulders until he was too big to fit.

I'll never know.

I told Sawyer about this recently, in a moment of emotional upheaval where I was just spewing out a list of things that had happened in my past that I'd never really gotten over. The conviction of my sadness apparently struck a deep chord with Sawyer, who decided to make me a memorial for Pookie to keep his memory close.

No one else had taken my emotions regarding Pookie seriously. Not until now. And not only did Sawyer take it seriously, the emotional vomit of an adult woman still crying over a cat she had for three days in fifth grade, but Sawyer thought it important enough that it should never be forgotten.

It's nice, sometimes, to know the person you've chosen to go through life with is the best person in the world for you.

[aemondsbabe]

Care & Keeping

summary: after aegon suffers injuries at rook's rest, you and aemond nurse him back to health

pairing: aemond targaryen x sister!reader x aegon targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, canon typical incest, mentioned canon injuries, no gore, threeway relationship, threesome, teasing, orgasm delay, unprotected sex, titty sucking, oral sex (m!receiving), fingering, dirty talk, aegond fr like they kiss and stuff, playful sibling bickering but they fuck about it, aemond is a tit, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.3k

a/n: I DID IT! i posted a fic again! happy to be back!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @tragicsiblings

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“Such a spoiled thing…,” Aemond mutters while his fingers work through Aegon’s silky hair, the strands freshly washed during his bath earlier in the day – something you and Aemond had assisted with as well, much to the displeasure of Maester Orwyle and the servants. A part of you understood the maester’s concerns, after all a slip or fall would be devastating for your brother this far along in his healing, yet… 

Well, he listened to you and Aemond. He would sit in the bath without complaint for the two of you, would let you wash over his delicate skin and comb through his hair with little more than a scoff or eye roll. Not so for the others, to whom he grumbled and carried on, insisting he need not be babied. 

“Hush, he deserves to be taken care of,” you chide your little brother playfully, chuckling as you lie against Aegon’s chest, savoring the sound of his heart beating steadily in your ear, “He’s lived through dragon fire, after all… That deserves a reward, no?”

“Listen to our sister, Aem,” your older brother chuckles, petting his hands over you in much the same way yours move over his waist and stomach – careful of the still-healing scars there, “What is it our grandsire says? Wisdom is from the children, some drivel like that?” 

“Wisdom oft comes from the mouths of babes, my love,” you correct him with a snigger, smirking when you peer up at him. 

“That’s the one!”

“I’m younger than her, you dolt,” Aemond sighs, a bite to his words even as he teases, though Aegon pays it no mind – too busy spread between you and your brother like a lazy, happy house cat. 

“Mm, then you should be smarter, no?”

“I…,” Aemond sighs before simply shaking his head with a soft sigh and teasing grumble, combing his fingers through his long hair in mock frustration. 

This is how the three of you have spent as much time as you could since that fateful day at Rook’s Rest, when Aegon and Aemond both nearly lost their lives plummeting to the battlefield in a fiery tangle. Aemond had, by the grace of the Gods, escaped without too many injuries. However, your eldest brother had not been so lucky and had been caught in the fires of Meleys, leaving him with life threatening burns and broken limbs that had thankfully healed almost miraculously well over the last few weeks. 

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you snuggle against Aegon, saying yet another quick prayer to the Seven as thanks for keeping him safe and, relatively, in one piece. Unfortunately, Aemond had been made to step in and act as regent, which meant that the three of you couldn’t spend all your time together, much to your displeasure. 

That is what had kept you all apart for most of the day – official duties that had carried on much too long, especially for your younger brother. By the time he had finished with Small Council business, it was well past supper and you and Aegon had already been tucked in bed together, enjoying the cool breeze blowing in from Blackwater Bay. As nonchalant as Aemond acts about the whole affair, his true feelings are betrayed time and time again when he stumbles when he all but rips his tunic and boots off, nearly in a frenzy, eager to join the two of you in bed. 

“How does the Council fare, little brother? Have they fallen to pieces in my absence?”

“Mm,” Aemond hums, the corners of his lips just barely lifting into a smirk while he rubs over Aegon’s sore shoulders, making the elder sigh in contentment, “They’re being much too soft on that traitorous bitch queen for my liking… forcing us sit up here like a herd of lambs for slaughter.”

Aegon lets out a soft giggle, the sound of it reverberating in your ear while he tilts his head back to look up at his brother, “And what would you do, hm? Take Vhagar and sack Dragonstone singlehandedly?”

“She could do it,” the prince regent muses, leaning down and pressing soft kisses against your older brother’s head, his lilac eye sparkling at the thought of turning that blasted place into no more than a fiery heap of rubble. His lips linger against Aegon’s pale hair, muffling the sound of his soft chuckle, “Why not turn all of those spoiled bastards into smoldering piles of ash and be done with it?”

“You, dearest brother, are beginning to sound very much like our uncle,” you tease, peering up at Aemond with a smirk, “All violence and warfare.”

A soft laugh is pulled from your lips as your brother’s angular face twists into a disgusted scowl, “You think so lowly of me as to compare me to him, sweet sister?”

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it,” you murmur knowingly, sharing a playful glance with Aegon, much to Aemond’s disapproval. 

“You both know very well I hate that creepy old –”

“Then why is your cock hard against my back, brother?” Aegon quickly interjects, descending into raucous giggles. The sound of his laughter quickly gets to you and your lips crack into a wide smile before you can hide it, a snort of laughter following soon after. 

Above you, Aemond sputters for a few seconds before finally letting out a pained groan, though his lips are turned up into a subtle smile. 

“You want to fuck our uncle,” Aegon giggles, the near giddy sound of his laughter reverberating in your ear. 

Your eldest brother’s laughter is cut short as Aemond behind him begins peppering kisses over his neck, sweeping his hair out of the way as the elder lets out a quiet gasp, the planes of his stomach tensing beneath your cheek. 

“And what if it’s you I wish to fuck, Your Grace?” The name makes Aegon shudder while goosebumps bloom over his pale skin as he lets out a thick sigh, the sheets at his waist beginning to tent. 

Aemond’s words cause heat to bloom between your own thighs and you smile up at him as he shifts behind your older brother, no doubt pressing his clothed length against his back, letting him feel it. 

“Awful tease,” Aegon whines, the petulance in his voice making you chuckle. It’s then that he directs his darkening violet gaze to you, quirking a brow, “Don’t you act all innocent, as if you haven’t been torturing me for weeks, little minx.”

A smirk blooms on your lips as his largely uninjured arm raises to encircle your waist, holding you more tightly against him while you press a soft trail of kisses over his pale skin. 

“I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean,” the words leave your mouth in a soft hum, warm against the patch of blond hair on his chest. A lie, of course. Maester Orwyle had taken great pains over the past few weeks to make it absolutely crystal clear that Aegon was in no state to be played with, that all of his body needed rest and healing. 

The old man had said it in the hopes of you and Aemond keeping Aegon away from the Street of Silk, of course. There was no doubt in your mind that your older brother could talk any of the guards or servants into smuggling him into the city. Yet, little did they know he hadn’t been whoring in months, not since the three of you had finally given into your desires. 

It had been well into the night when Aemond had stumbled into your chambers, dripping with rainwater and heaving soft sobs. You’d held him closely and listened as he had explained the awful mess that had happened with Rhaenyra’s youngest bastard, his voice trembling so hard you’d had to strain to understand at parts. 

You’d ushered him into older brother’s chambers quickly afterwards, not knowing what else to do and naively praying he might be able to help – to do something, anything, as king. Being Aegon, of course, the event had devolved into drinking – just to soothe Aemond’s nerves, he had said. 

The three of you woke together in the morning, naked and tangled up in His Grace’s soft sheets. 

With the promise of war looming heavily on the horizon, you had scarcely separated from them since then. There was a possibility of losing them both and you wanted to savor them for as long as you could, for whatever time was left. 

“Ah, you don’t, do you?” Aegon’s voice cuts through the visions swirling in your head, pulling you back to the present. His hand skims down over your back and hip until he can cup the curve of your ass, drawing a breathy laugh from you, “So you’ve just been wearing these gauzy, insufferable excuses for nightgowns for no good reason, then?”

“Perhaps I wear them to catch the eye of the guards as I make my way here?” Your eyes gleam with mischief when you peer up at him, knowing exactly how territorial he can be. 

His hips rut up against the sheets, cock straining beneath the white linen of them and already leaving wet patches on the fabric while a deep groan rumbles from his chest. Behind him, Aemond chuckles while he continues to press kisses over Aegon’s pale skin, marking up each side of his neck. 

“Teasing cunts, the both of you.”

“Tsk, there’s no need for that, you ungrateful cretin,” your little brother snaps, although there’s no real meanness in his tone – merely a strange, brotherly teasing that you fear you’ll never truly understand, “To think, we’ve been kind enough to take care of you all this time and this is how you behave.”

“Aemond’s right, my love,” your voice comes out as a soft coo, even as you peer at your eldest brother with a playful smirk, “We’ve been so kind to you… How many times do you think we swallowed your seed before you were well enough to fuck again?”

“W-Well, I–” Aegon stammers, flushing so hotly that even the pale column of his neck turns a slight pink shade. 

“Mm, all so mummy wouldn’t see how you’d stain the sheets otherwise, isn’t that right, dearest sister?”

Your lips curl into an almost vicious smile at Aemond’s jab, relishing the way Aegon’s dark eyes widen at the mere mention of your mother. Poor thing, you remember how embarrassed he’d been the first time he’d been desperate enough to rut against the bed sheets until they were dirtied with his spend, left to his own devices late at night after you and Aemond had retired to your own chambers. 

He’d sobbed against your chest that evening while he recounted the Maester mentioning it in the morning, pleased that all the king’s precious parts were still in working order, yet that did little to numb the sting of your mother’s stare – evidently disappointed that he’d debase himself in such a manner. 

“Quite right, little brother,” you all but purr, rising to your knees before carefully maneuvering yourself over one of Aegon’s thick thighs, mindful still of any tender spots, “Isn’t there anything you’d like to say to us, Aeg?”

“I… T-Thank you,” he finally manages to huff out, violet eyes staring hungrily at where your warm heat presses against him – achingly hot through the thin fabric of the sheets. 

“Good boy, Your Grace,” Aemond whispers against the shell of your brother’s ear, his gaze just as hungry as Aegon’s as they both look over you – the lacy, satin material of your nightgown doing precious little to disguise anything below it. 

“He can be sweet when he wants to be,” you murmur, smiling at the way your eldest brother’s head tips back against Aemond’s pale chest when you lightly scratch your nails over his tummy, tracing a path down beneath the sheets. An amused little giggle spills from your lips when his hips rut against your hand the second you gently grab at his length, giving it a light squeeze, “Can’t you, lovely boy?”

Grunting, Aegon merely nods while soft whimpers spill from his lips at the feel of your hand on him, of Aemond’s lips against his neck. 

“Please, fuck,” he groans, swallowing thickly and licking at his lips while he tries to buck up into your hand – his movements jerky and uncoordinated from being off of his feet for so long, “Seven Hells…”

Giggling at his grumbling, you tilt your head to the side as you look over him. Even injured and half-healed, he’s beautiful. In all the places where Aemond is lean and toned, Aegon is thicker, more stocky and soft; the juxtaposition between the two of them has always made your heart flutter.

“Tell us what you want.” 

Aegon whines at Aemond’s firm command, but obeys nonetheless. The way his dark gaze immediately finds your own makes your lips curl into a proud smirk.

“Want you, please…,” he finally breathes and disentangles his hands from where they’d been clawing at the sheets to instead run them over your thighs, one moving more easily than the other – his injured arm still trembles. 

“Mm, you’ll need to be more specific,” You can resist teasing, he just begs so prettily. 

“Gods, your cunt,” the way he impatiently growls the words makes you snigger, “Insolent little wit– Agh!” 

“You’ll be nice to our sister,” Aemond hisses, smirking as he gives a harsh pinch to Aegon’s nipples, “Or you can lie here and watch me enjoy her instead.”

A scowl blooms on your eldest brother’s face at the threat and he gives an almighty huff before thankfully settling; your little brother may have no qualms about denying him, but you prefer to indulge him, truly. Smiling wickedly, you fix Aegon with an almost innocent expression – brows drawn up just slightly, eyes widened… before sliding your gaze from his violet eyes and up to Aemond’s single lilac one. 

“You know, baby brother,” you start, arching your back just enough to press your breasts out enticingly, putting on a show for them both, “If I’m to take His Majesty’s cock, I’ll need some help readying myself…”

Aemond’s snicker is such a sharp contrast to Aegon’s broken groan. 

“Wouldn’t you like that?” Your younger brother rasps into your eldest’s ear, petting through his hair with a gentleness that one wouldn’t expect from such calloused hands, “Hm? To watch while I prepare our lovely girl for your lovely cock, dear brother?”

Aegon nearly wheezes at that, as if the mere thought of it has knocked all the wind from his lungs. 

“Fuck, please,” he whines, nuzzling against Aemond’s touch like a cat, “Want it, please.”

“Anything to get my cock in her faster,” is the unspoken truth there, one he’d made the mistake of voicing before. Aemond had made sure that was a long night. 

“Shh, sh, sh,” he soothes him now, gently petting over his chest while he kisses over the side of his face, “You’ll get to watch.”

Aegon lets out slightly pained grunts as Aemond works his way out from behind him to stand at the edge of the bed, taking the time to make sure he’s propped comfortably against the pillows before his touch finally leaves him. With a dark chuckle, your little brother swiftly climbs back up on the bed, nude save for the soft linen trousers hanging low on his hips. 

“Now, I believe I have some business to attend to, don’t I, love?” He whispers against the shell of your ear while he takes his place behind you – kneeling and holding you against his chest. As always, a barely there sigh leaves his lips at the way the soft satin of your nightgown feels against his skin; it’s a sensation he’s grown to crave ever since you began ordering those special silks – the ones imported from Lys, the same ones Alicent insists on using for her sleepwear as well. 

He’s never told a soul, but the feeling brings him comfort – brings back memories of being held and comforted, of before his mother became hardened to the world. 

You can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your lips when he bites at your neck and roughly tilts your head to the side, long fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of your neck, “Please, little brother.”

“You know I’d never deny you, sweetling,” his breath is warm against the crook of your neck while his hands caress over your body, drawing soft whimpers and groans from the man lying on the bed below you. Aemond takes his time, never one to rush, and lets his touch linger over every part of you.

Starting at your shoulders, he runs his hands over your arms before skirting them back up and over your sides, making your nightgown ride further and further up your hips as he does. Just as he cups your breasts, you lean down against Aegon’s chest to let him feel the way Aemond’s long fingers work against you, mindful not to rest against him too firmly.

The heat from being trapped between their two bodies is nearly stifling but you’d never dare pull away. 

“Gods, Aem,” you whine when he plucks at your nipples, rolling them between his long fingers while you pant against Aegon’s pale throat. Your older brother’s good arm comes up to circle possessively around your waist, keeping you pressed against him, long past caring if it sparks soreness within him. 

“You feel so good,” Aegon whimpers against your hair, his voice little more than a needy growl while he ruts his hips up against your stomach. Chuckling, you nip over his collarbones just enough to leave small marks behind, painting him as yours. 

“If I feel good now, just think of how good I’ll feel around you,” you murmur against his chest, relishing the way he keens – the way his cock twitches against you, doubtlessly leaking steadily against the thin bed sheet separating the two of you.

“Fucking dripping,” Aemond mutters behind you, letting out a satisfied chuckle against your spine while his deft fingers begin circling over your sensitive pearl, “Eager little thing, aren’t you?”

“Always for the two of you,” your voice shakes as you reply, words getting caught in your throat with each movement of your brother’s long fingers against your center.

“Did you hear that, brother?” Aemond says smugly, his low voice dripping with satisfaction, “Seems our dear sister is quite the little whore for us.”

“Mhm, mhm,” your eldest brother strenuously agrees, jerkily nodding his head while you let him hump against you, savoring the way the hard line of his cock presses against your belly, “O-Our whore, yes.”

“You’d better not let him spend,” Aemond growls, his good eye narrowing when he sees what you’re allowing to happen. He tugs at your hair hard enough to have you hissing and smirks at the sound.

“I won’t, I won’t,” you huff, rolling your eyes only to yelp when his large hand suddenly comes down on your ass. You can’t help the way you press back into it, the harsh sting settling over your skin like a warm blanket, “Gods…”

“Play nice,” he rasps, grinning at the way you cry out when he abruptly pushes two fingers inside your already-fluttering walls, “Or Aegon won’t be the only one left wanting.” 

“Mhm, yes, little brother,” you rush to say, readily agreeing – knowing all too well from experience that if Aemond meant to deny you, that there would be no talking him out of it. Lucky for him, the prospect of that was enough to placate you. Not that you even have the lung capacity to sass him, not with the way his long fingers move within you. 

Aegon whimpers in time with you each time the pads of your brother’s fingers brush against that sensitive spot within you, as if he can feel the pressure within you too. He lets you hold onto him and hardly even protests when Aemond angles your hips in such a way that the planes of your stomach don’t even rub over his neglected cock, the absolute prick. 

“F-Fuck, oh, fuck,” the curses are all but knocked from you with ear harsh thrust of Aemond’s fingers, the chambers silent save for the steady crackle of the fire in the hearth and the wet squelching noises sounding from between your legs – which only serve to spur your little brother on further. 

“So tight, Seven Hells,” he mutters, leaning over you and trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up the curve of your spine. You can feel his lips curve up into a cocky grin when he presses his thumb against your bud, drawing a loud, gasping cry from your lips. 

“Aem, Aemond, I–”

“Shh, shh,” he soothes, smiling at the way Aegon’s hands, both of them, even the shaky, still-healing one, thread into your hair and comb through it – a gesture that’s calmed you since the three of you were children, “Be good and take it.”

That’s a lot easier said than done, especially when the world seems to tilt on its axis when he manages to slip a third finger into your aching sex. The stretch of it only makes the fire threatening to consume you burn all the brighter and twin groans fill the room when your walls pulse greedily around him. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Aegon all but breathes, his voice raw and shaky and dripping with a soft kind of praise he only ever gives to you, “So good for us.”

“Mm, our big brother’s right, sweetling,” Aemond hums, rubbing his thumb in tighter and tighter circles over your pearl and focusing the attention of his fingers within you on that spot that he knows makes you see stars. The effect is instantaneous and after no more than a couple seconds, you’re all but sobbing as you go limp on top of Aegon, unable to so much as hold yourself up as pleasure courses through you. 

Your younger brother smirks, you can’t see it but you can feel it, and groans low in his throat when your walls clench so tightly around his fingers that he can hardly move them at all. The only sounds coming from you are near pitiful squeaks in time with the movements of his hand. 

“Gods, so close, aren’t you?” Aemond all but growls against the shell of your ear, just as Aegon pulls you forward into a searing kiss, “Show it to me.” 

Powerless to do anything else, you let out a choked whimper against Aegon’s lips – practically sobbing into his mouth while his tongue licks against your own. Your high crests and crashes into you like the waves at Storm’s End, almost violent and bloodthirsty in the way it sends your pulse racing, in the way it nearly engulfs you. 

All the while, your brothers hold you steady. Aegon keeps an arm slung around your back, anchoring you to him, while Aemond uses his free hand to hold you upright as he wrings every drop of pleasure he can conjure up from you – not daring to stop until your pleasured moans turn to tortured gasps.

Finally, Aemond pulls his fingers from you with a satisfied grunt, leaving you panting as you slip from atop Aegon, shifting to lie beside him instead, curled against his largely uninjured side. Your eyes have hardly fluttered open before Aemond’s moving, leaning over Aegon like a shadowcat, finally victorious in hunting down its prey. 

“Taste,” he whispers, bringing his fingers, still glistening with the evidence of your orgasm, to your eldest brother’s lips. As usual, Aegon wastes no time and eagerly parts his hips and lets Aemond press them to his tongue. Your breath catches in your throat when his violet eyes roll back at the taste of you on your brother’s skin, a hungry, needy whine sounds from this throat while he takes the time to suck them clean. 

Your younger brother’s eye sparkles as he watches, his cock tenting the dark fabric of his trousers and pressing against Aegon’s thigh. 

“Aeg, don’t be greedy,” you finally pipe up, the air back in your lungs and a playful smirk on your lips, “Share with our little brother; he deserves it, no?”

Two sets of eyes land upon you, guided by the suggestive tone of your voice. Poor Aegon looks wide eyed and dazed, already half out of his mind and you haven’t even started on him. Aemond, on the other hand, looks downright predatory – dangerous in the low light. 

With a breathy chuckle, he sets upon your eldest brother, capturing his lips in a heated, almost savage kiss. Aegon sobs into it, his hips lifting on their own accord beneath the sheets as Aemond nips at his lip and sucks at his tongue with a barely contained lust. The elder reaches up with his good hand and threads his fingers through the younger’s long, pearlescent hair just as a rough, sword-worn hand gets wrapped around his throat, holding him in place. 

The sight of their frenzied affection makes your thighs clench, your core throbbing once more, uncaring that you’d found release only moments ago. Unable to resist, you lean in until your lips brush over the soft, pale skin of Aegon’s chest. You pepper it with kisses, making him whine and whimper into Aemond’s mouth. Shifting the bed sheets out of the way, you can’t help but bite at your lower lip at the sight of his cock – angry and flushed and leaking copiously, leaving a pool of it on his tummy. 

“Mm, it’s cruel to let him suffer this way,” you say lowly, meeting Aemond’s eye when he finally pulls away from Aegon, lips curling into a smirk that matches your own, “I promised the poor thing my cunt, I think he’s earned it.” 

“Please, please, f-fucking, please,” your eldest brother whimpers pitifully, hips bucking while you run your hand over his thigh as he looks between you and Aemond imploringly, violet eyes glassy. 

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you,” you promise, pressing one last kiss against his chest before turning to Aemond, “Help me onto him.” 

You’re moving before your brother can protest, can think of some other reason to tease. Ever since Aegon was injured, you’ve needed Aemond’s help to stay balanced the scant few times you’ve taken him. So much of his upper half was injured that you’re hardly able to put weight on one side of his chest, even now, which makes staying upright without assistance hardly worth the possible risk. 

“Fine, fine, I suppose the little whelp’s earned a treat,” your brother sighs and slips off the bed, taking care to help you straddle Aegon’s hips once more while he stands at the bedside. You take a second to pull off your lacy nightgown, smirking at the groans of appreciation you get in return. 

“Gah–fuck!” Aegon grunts the second your slick center presses against his aching length and presses his lips tightly together as his eyes squeeze shut, his fingers white-knuckled while he claws at the sheets, “S-Sweetling, please, please, I n-need you.”

“And you’ll have me,” your voice is sweet when you reply, soft and breathy. Your touches are the same, knowing that’s what he needs now. Balancing with one hand securely on Aemond’s shoulder, you watch as he leans down just enough to grab at your brother’s length and notch it at your entrance. 

“O-Oh… fuck, f-fuck, Seven Hells,” the words sound as if they’re being punched from Aegon’s chest, like he can hardly get enough of a lungfull to speak while you slowly sink down onto him. 

While he pants below you, nearly thrashing, you aren’t doing much better. Throwing your head back, you let your eyes flutter shut as a series of breathy moans spill past your lips. Silently, you’re thankful Aemond took the time to prepare you – sometimes they both get so wound up, preparation goes out the window and while you have come to love the nearly-painful ache of taking them without it, it’s always so much better like this. 

“Gods!” You nearly screech when Aemond suddenly rubs at your pearl, making you jump slightly atop Aegon, who lets out an equally embarrassing noise at the way your walls suddenly contract around him.

Aemond, on the other hand, looks entirely too pleased with himself as he straightens again. He takes the time to brush a lock of hair from your face and cups your cheek in such a gentle way that you nearly ignore the mischievous glimmer in his eye, “Just getting you started, sweet sister. I expect a show.” 

Your teeth sink into your lower lip at the cadence of his low voice and you nearly draw blood when he tugs at the drawstring on his trousers and lowers them just enough to free his length, the sight of it pulling twin groans from you and your eldest brother. 

Spurred on by the sight of it, of Aemond pleasuring himself to the vision of you atop Aegon, you begin rocking your hips. A satisfied sigh is tugged pulled from your lips at the feel of his cock moving within you – perfectly contoured to nestle against every sensitive spot within you as the head kisses your most inner depths. 

“Fuck, Aegon,” you breathe, letting out little gasps every time your bud brushes against the patch of blond hairs at the base of his cock. Each movement of him inside you stokes at the fire within you that’s steadily roaring back to life, greedy even after your previous release. 

“Don’t stop, don’t… Please, s-sister, I need–”

“I know, my love, I know,” you soothe him in a gentle tone, your free hand brushing gently over his chest and shoulder, trailing lightly enough over the column of his neck that he shivers, “I won’t stop.” 

A shiver runs through you when he nods and stares up at you – gazes at you with those big, dark eyes like you’re some goddess, like you’re the Mother in flesh form, taking his cock again and again. As usual, his eyes are quickly drawn to your chest and you can’t help but chuckle at the hungry look painted so clearly on his pale features – pink lips parted as he pants and whimpers. 

“Here, precious brother,” you whisper, carefully leaning forward, just enough to allow your breasts to sway in front of his face, peaked nipples just barely brushing over his lips, “Suck, go on.” 

You need not encourage him further as he quickly leans up just the slightest bit, just enough to wrap his full lips around one of your sensitive buds and suckle as if his life depended on it. A low, carnal groan sounds from his throat and vibrates against your skin, the sound of it making the walls of your center squeeze at him greedily. The knot in your belly grows tighter and tighter and judging from the desperate, harsh cants of Aegon's hips, you know neither of you will be lasting much longer. 

For a long moment, the only sounds that can be heard in the quiet of your eldest brother’s chambers are harsh pants, the noise of skin on skin, and Aemond’s barely concealed growls. 

“Gods, I– Fuck,” he pants, one hand stroking slowly over his generous length, pausing every so often to collect the slick steadily leaking from its flushed head, all the while his eye dances over you and Aegon, never settling in one place very long, “Love watching the two of you, s-so pretty…”

The little hitch in his voice makes your heart clench and sends a pleasured shiver up your spine – unlike Aegon, it’s hard to reduce Aemond to a stuttering mess so each time his words get caught in his throat is like a small badge of honor for you. 

The slick noises of your brother’s hand moving over his cock soon draw Aegon’s attention and he pulls away from your breast with a shuddered gasp, his good hand white knuckled on your thigh. He looks up at you almost apologetically, a new hunger evident in his darkened gaze, before his eyes trail over to Aemond’s length. 

“C’mon, then,” your little brother grunts, his lips pulled into a dirty smirk as he edges closer to the bedside, angling himself better for Aegon, “Good boy, go on.”

Licking his lips, Aegon leans forward just enough to get at Aemond’s cock; you and Aemond each let out soft moans when his mouth sucks at the flushed head. Aegon’s hips buck up into yours at your brother’s taste on his tongue and you know he’s close, teetering on the edge judging by how he shivers beneath you.

“Mm– fuck, yes,” Aemond grunts, rocking his hips little by little into your eldest brother’s waiting mouth, the sound makes your core clench once more and you can’t take it any longer. His low, breathy chuckle hardly meets your ears when you hastily trail a hand down your own stomach and start rubbing between your thighs – your fingers moving in tight, practiced circles over your pearl.

The feeling of your walls pulsating around his length again and again has Aegon crying out, the sound muffled around Aemond’s cock. You can feel his muscles tense beneath you while you spear yourself onto his length over and over, each movement causing the fire within you to burn brighter, to rage hotter. 

You brace yourself for his release, clinging to Aemond’s shoulder with one hand while the other works furiously at your bud, and yet…

“You don’t finish until she does,” Aemond breathes, shoving his cock deep enough down Aegon’s throat that the only reply he can give is a garbled groan. His violet eyes are wide and glassy, silently pleading with Aemond even though he knows it’s useless. 

“I-I’m close, I– Gods,” you pant, thighs burning while you all but thrash on top of your older brother, angling yourself in just the right way – causing the tip of his cock to rub against the most sensitive spot within you. Your eyes roll back in your head and stars dance in your vision and the feel of a gentle hand at your breast nearly makes you jump. 

Even lost in his own pleasure, Aegon would never forget you. He moans helplessly around Aemond as he thumbs at your nipple, providing just enough sensation to send you tipping over the edge. 

“Ah! Gods– Gods, f-fuck!” You cry out, your thighs trembling on either side of your brother's hips as pleasure overtakes you once more. Your lips part in a silent moan while your core all but milks Aegon’s high from him as well, the feel of his hot spend within you only adding to your pleasure. 

“Mmph, mmph!” He whines around Aemond as you slowly come to a stop on top of him, overstimulation quickly getting to you both. 

Aemond gasps at the sight before him, seeing the two of you in the throes of pleasure only adding to his own.

“Gonna… o-oh, fuck–” He grunts and before you can register what’s happening, he’s got an arm wrapped around your neck and is hauling you toward him. Your lips connect with his at a nearly bruising intensity and you can hear Aegon moaning with satisfaction when your brother finishes on his tongue, coating it with his spend. 

Your lips move against his for a long moment while he trembles, hardly able to stay upright while he licks into your mouth – the kiss more teeth and tongues than anything else. Finally, he pulls away, nipping at your bottom lip as he does before he fixes you with a nearly arrogant smirk. 

“Let our girl have a taste, big brother,” he drawls, pushing you back toward Aegon with a mischievous smirk. 

“Mm, how generous of you,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, shaking your head at Aemond before meeting Aegon in a heated kiss. Aemond’s familiar taste settles on your tongue while the man in question takes his place back behind Aegon, propping him on his chest and sighing at the familiar warm weight of his brother. 

When Aegon is pulled away from you a moment later, you use the opportunity to shift back to his side, knowing he must be sore from having you atop him, even if he dared not show it. You trail kisses over his neck while Aemond occupies his mouth, greedily licking his own spend from his brother’s tongue.

“You were so good for us,” Aemond praises him, his voice soft and gentle in a way he only ever uses here – in the calm, candlelit privacy with each of you like this, “Did everything I said, just perfect.”

“Mhm, our perfect brother,” you purr into Aegon’s ear, relishing the way he shudders. He’s quiet after he spends, the only time you won’t hear a sarcastic remark or a dirty joke. Instead, he’s… subdued, pliable in your arms – breathing easy while his eyes flutter closed, relishing the attention you give him.

You chuckle softly at the easy, satiated smile on his lips before your eyes meet Aemond’s over your older brother’s mess of tangled silver hair – something that’ll need to be sorted in the morning. 

“I love you,” you whisper against the side of Aegon’s head, pressing a soft kiss there, “Both of you.” 

“Sap,” Aegon quips, making you giggle.

“I hate you,” you murmur playfully, giving his good shoulder a soft shove.

“Not nearly as much as I detest you.” 

“Both of you are absolute ballaches,” Aemond finally sighs.

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: NANAMI (PT. II)

A/N: Because our collective husband won the contest. Gege texted me saying obviously Nanami would win. He also said if I don’t post a second part immediately Choso gets the boot next season. So I’m doing this for ALL of us 🤗 (I swear, I swear I’m 90% done with H&H for those of you that follow/have tolerated my lollygagging).

C/W: Fluff, Breeding, Mature, 18+

“It wasn’t over…it still isn’t over.”

Lines from The Notebook bubble from your lips onto Nanami’s bare chest. You’re curled onto him like a Cheshire cat. Your pretty, flushed mouth pets him. Followed closely by muffled sniffles. You bury your misty eyes and runny nose into his ratty, old college baseball shirt.

The one washed heather grey from the days turned months turned years of your careful handwashing.

I can get you another shirt, my love.

But I want this one, Ken. It reminds me of when we first fell in love.

Your answer is the same whenever he offers. Pouring all of your being into mending the natural little holes, the frays, and strain that comes with time.

His precious girl.

You nurse his shirt back to health, time and time again. In the same way you kiss him on rainy Sunday mornings. And pull him into the kitchen to dance with you under candlelight. And sneak extra food into his packed lunch on days he has to work overtime.

You are celestial.

With you he’s entrenched in the Heavens.

With you he builds the palatial wings of his own personal Icarus. Flying close, nearly too close, to the blinding warmth of your Sun.

“It’s so romantic, isn’t it?”

You shift up higher on him. Torsos melding together. Both your thighs cradled between his pajama clad legs. Nanami drags his fingers along your delicate spine.

God, he revels in you like this.

“It is, baby.”

Nanami catches the glassy mosaic in your eyes. Worthy of display in the Sistine Chapel.

You quickly bury your head into his neck, embarrassed about crying over a movie you’ve both seen over 10 times.

“I’m being so ridiculous, I’m sorry. It’s the stupid, dumb, stupid hormones.”

You press a cloud soft kiss into his chest and it reverberates down to his thundering heart.

Truthfully, Nanami has spent the entirety of the film watching you.

Tiny wrinkles in your button nose during some scenes, giggles and full belly laughs at others. You try to bite back your sobs. Slap away your tears before they splash against his abs — like they don’t correlate with the same points in the plot everytime.

He purposefully chose The Notebook after dinner because of your reactions. Just so he could fall in love with you all over again.

Just like Icarus.

Who fell from flying too close to the Sun.

Because loving you feels like a blissful free fall. With no ground in sight.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” The words flow out of Nanami. He can’t seem to contain it.

A pretty gasp escapes you. You pull away from the TV to shift closer to his face.

“Oh, Ken. I can’t wait to—“

“Kiss me.” His voice is throaty, laced with growing need.

Such an obedient girl.

Your lips are addicting. A fiend’s paradise.

He surges his hands in your hair while his tongue traces and tastes every corner of your mouth. You whine into him. He sucks on your tongue before taking your bottom lip into his teeth.

“Baby,” You breathe against his lips. Gentle pants melding with his.

Nanami kisses a hushed I love you into your mouth, before shifting your bodies on the plush couch.

His cock has been throbbing the entire movie. His shirt has inevitably shrunken over the years. Where it used to fall past your mid thighs, now it rides halfway over your hips.

Your plump, perky ass has been in plain view the whole night. Nothing protecting you from his invasion except for a thin, baby doll thong. Navy. Like the letters on his alma mater’s shirt.

Because your body is in heat, preparing you for a baby, your breasts are noticeably larger.

Filling out his shirt in the most mouth watering way. Your nipples, hard and sensitive, enticing him with every miniscule movement.

God, the way you wince and squeal when you brush your buds too harshly against him. Or whimper when the supple, puffy flesh of your tits push against his rigid body a little too hard.

His cock bucks off his thigh every single time.

The next 3 days Nanami will be reduced to the most rudimentary version of himself.

He’ll follow you around the house like a lap dog. Burying his nose and mouth and lips and tongue into every part of your body. He’ll grope you. Rub his crotch into you at every turn. Cum from just sucking on your nipples, if you let him.

You two have decided to abstain from sex when you ovulate. Until you are ready to create a love child.

He says you, because Nanami is fully ready, eager, to have mini-yous filling his home with life.

And really, he’s happy to let you dictate your family planning.

But the next 3 days will be torture. His needy, oversensitive heavy cock will drive every thought. He’ll jerk off more times than he can count.

Nanami is on his back now, with you perfectly perched on his manhood. Nothing but your thin panties cupping your precious little cunt. His length tents right up against you, begging for entry.

Both of your warm hands caress each hill and valley of his abs. Little crystals line your wide, puppy eyes. Tip of your nose so deeply flushed from all your tears. Cheeks dusted rose from your sex rubbing against his in this position.

No matter how many years you two have been intimate, you always blush, and squirm, and look away and hide your face like it’s the first time.

And it just makes him want to bury his cock in you. And take you. And worship you. And keep you swollen with his cum.

“How did I get so lucky?”

Again, Nanami means to think the statement but it rolls off his tongue on its own accord.

“D-do you mean that?” The way your bottom lip quivers makes his cock drool.

“My love. Your name was etched into my heart from the day I met you.”

Nanami pulls himself up so that your chest collides with his. You whimper at the sudden contact and the sound decimates his brain.

He crashes his lips into yours once more.

Your sweet mouth is blinding. You immediately evanesce into him. Little “ohs” and little “mmms” escape you in the pockets of breath Nanami allows you.

His cock jerks violently against your warm, dewy folds. Your arousal has soaked through your measly barrier. Now mixing with his, staining his sweats.

“Oh sweetheart,” Nanami husks against your lips. His fingers go to move your thong aside and are now drenched.

“So wet for me. Such a needy girl.”

He circles your puffy clit twice. And you buck against his veiny hand.

“Mmnnggh…oh god, K-Ken..” broken little moans kiss Nanami’s neck, while he pets your soaking wet folds.

“My precious girl,” he muses, fully aware of how pliant you become under his sweet words and light touch.

Nanami shifts his hips upward, just to avoid his legs falling asleep. But the sound that emanates from your lips is mind altering.

The friction from his fingers on your sensitive bud and his barely clothed, steel pipe length bullying into your opening drives you to see stars.

You bury your head back into the crook of his neck. So embarrassed about the way your hips start rutting against his cock. Slowly. On low autopilot.

Nanami grips your fleshy ass with his free hand. Pushing you deeper onto his rod every time you hump him.

“Oh yeah, baby?”

He gently teases into your ear. It’s such a fucking turn on. You rutting against him so desperately. Blushing up to your ears. Trying and failing miserably at fighting your body when it’s in heat like this.

Your nails dig little crescents into Nanami’s back. Small little puffs of air feather his skin.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” Nanami huffs.

“Use my cock. Make yourself feel good.”

You mewl at his words. Frustrated that the friction you want, need, is escaping you.

“I-I’m so…” words broken by your sloppy, desperate humping. Nanami grips your ass tighter. He suspends his hips upward to help you.

But his adjustments just make you whine louder. Pulling your face out of his neck to glare at him. Little frustrated crystals fall from your eyes. Your pupils are completely blown. Eyelids heavy. Nostrils flaring.

Fucking hell.

He could cum from just looking at you right now.

You need his cock. It feels criminal not to sink into your begging, decadent, pretty little cunt right now. When your body has worked so hard to prepare you to be stuffed and bred.

“I’m so horny,” another salty tear rolls down your pretty face.

And Nanami has to look up at the ceiling.

Because you say things like that.

While dripping around his dick. With your puffy tits and lips. Wearing his shirt that reminds you both of when you first fell in love.

How can you expect him to maintain any decorum?

“I-I-I love you with all my heart, Kento.”

And, he’s off.

You snap his last remaining string of self control in half.

Nanami takes another bruising kiss from your lips. His hands start dragging his shirt over your head. And you immediately moan into him.

“Be gentle with it!” You scold through delirious groans.

He can’t help but smile against your lips. His sweet, tender hearted future wife. So protective. Even if it’s just a cotton t-shirt.

“Forgive me baby, I’ll be more gentle.”

Willing his hands to move a beat slower. He pulls the prized possession over your head and sets it on the couch ledge behind you.

His eyes instantly drop to your sensitive nipples. And you squirm away from his searing gaze.

“My beautiful wife.” Nanami murmurs.

He places feather light kisses on your sensitive mounds.

Your tiny fingers wire through his hair and gently tug. And Nanami’s cock twitches in return. Leaking more of his arousal onto the mess you both have created.

“Can I make love to you baby? All I need is my tongue.”

Grit in his tone almost sharp enough to nick your skin.

You roll your bottom lip under your teeth. Wanton and utterly fucked out, you drop your hand to his crotch for the first time. Evoking a loud hiss from your soon-to-be husband.

“I want to feel you.” Hot desire woven throughout your angelic features.

Your voice calls to his manhood. The last remaining blood in his brain diverts directly to his groin.

“I…” Nanami pulls in a deep, shaky breath.

“I won’t be able to pull out, pretty girl.”

You take a kiss this time, swirling your sweet tongue around his. Nanami melts into your mouth like chocolate. Palming both of your hips with his large hands.

Pull out? He won’t be able to last more than 5 seconds inside you at this rate.

“You’re my husband,” your dulcet voice absolutely fucking his brain.

“And I want to feel you.”

Nanami has to bite back a pathetic whine. There’s barely 3 seconds left before he’s thrusting into you like the caged animal he is.

“Sweetheart, I could…” No, he knows he will.

“I will get you pregnant tonight.”

He offers you the last warning he’ll be able to mumble before he starts.

You cup his face. Place a chaste kiss on his swollen lips and grind onto his helplessly rock hard cock.

“Then let’s make a baby.”

[moonstrider9904]

Soup

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Tags/warnings: Fluff. SFW, albeit with some mild suggestiveness here and there. Established relationship, some teasing. Mentions and descriptions of the common cold. So much Soft!Crosshair.

Word count: 1.4k

One shot masterlist | Main masterlist | Read on Ao3

You’d heard him shifting, tossing blankets, twisting, and turning throughout the night, and you giggled to yourself at the fact that he’d obviously tried not to wake you—and failed at it. You’d pretended to remain asleep so as to not worry him. You knew Crosshair was susceptible to feeling guilty over affecting you negatively in any way. Still, you knew something was up with him, and as you made pancakes for breakfast, you had already convinced yourself to act surprised when you saw an overly tired Crosshair emerging from your bedroom.

Nothing had prepared you, however, for the sight of Crosshair completely enveloped in a thick blanket with only his face peeking through the cloth, and you didn’t have to fake the shock that overwhelmed your sudden laughter. You looked away for a moment, diverting your gaze over to the pancakes as your laughter died down softly, but when you gazed at Crosshair again, you couldn’t help but erupt in laughter once more, now not only at the sight of him, but also at the fact that he was clearly annoyed.

“I don’t even know where to begin!” You kept giggling.

“How about, good freaking morning?” Crosshair crooned, his voice nasal and the sound of his m’s coming comically close to that of a B.

“Oh ho, sweetie,” you turned the stove off and you made your way over to him as he took a seat on the couch.

“Laugh it up,” Crosshair snarled, but his nasal voice and runny nose wouldn’t intimidate a mouse.

“Do you want padcakes?” You purposefully made your own voice nasal. “A good bordig is subbosed to have a good breakfast.”

His narrow eyes glared at you. “Ha ha.”

“Or would you prefer some chicke-d soup?” You grinned, still imitating his cold-infused way of talking.

In response, Crosshair laid across the entire sofa and faced the back of it, refusing to look at you. You chuckled at his grumpy-cat attitude and kneeled down beside the couch at the level of his head as he remained wrapped under the massive comforter.

“Okay, I’m done teasing,” you spoke normally, gently shaking his shoulder. “Will you look at me, please?”

“You’re really gonna make me move?” Crosshair crooned, immobile.

“I want to see your pretty face,” you smirked.

You heard Crosshair let out a big sigh, and he struggled under the comforter to shift his body, now facing you as he continued to lay on the couch. “I have half a mind to sneeze on you and bring you down with me.”

“I eat my fruits and veggies, you don’t scare me,” you raised a brow at him.

“Shut up and give me pancakes,” Crosshair moaned softly before he closed his eyes as though he’d fall asleep any minute.

“Don’t bite the hand that’s gonna nurse you back to health, sweetheart,” you leaned in and kissed him on the forehead.

Crosshair’s eyes opened for a moment at the contact of your lips on his skin, and the teasing went away from his eyes as he gazed up at you. Your lips retreated from his forehead, and you gazed upon him too—Crosshair didn’t fail to notice the glint of adoration in your eyes, sparkling as you looked down at him. Then, when you took your hand up to brush the backs of your fingers against his cheek, he inevitably leaned into your skin and his eyes closed again. You smiled softly at his reaction, and you took your hand up to his forehead before retrieving it and watching as his eyes opened expectantly, resenting the absence of your touch.

You chuckled. “Well, you don’t seem to have a fever.”

“Yipee,” Crosshair said monotonously.

“Oh, come on,” you said as you got up. “You have a tiny little cold, you’re gonna stay home all day on the couch in a cozy blanket watching movies, with your gorgeous girlfriend giving you pancakes and chicken soup all day.”

Crosshair chuckled. “You’re right, I can think of worse things.”

“And if you’re a good boy, I’ll rub some vaporub on your chest,” you winked.

Crosshair eyed you with a little gleam of mischief, smirking as seductively as he could manage in his current state. “Aye, here I am running with snot all over me, but you still want me, darlin’.”

You cackled. “Oh yeah, you’re irresistible, all wrapped up in a comforter.”

“You can put vaporub on me anywhere you want,” he kept smirking as he closed his eyes.

Laughter took over you again. “Gross.”

“You started it,” he hummed.

With a little giggle, you got up and made your way to the kitchen to finish what you’d started, putting in extra care to the pancakes and even sprinkled in a few chocolate chips, which Crosshair wouldn’t acknowledge out loud, but you knew he loved them. It was a perfectly slow day after that, with both of you spending almost the whole time in the living room together and cozying up to warm bowls of soup you improvised and nailed.

Each time you approached Crosshair for anything, you could see it in his eyes—the faint gleam and the fleeting softness that flashed through those brown irises, features glowing with a tender affection he didn’t need to put into words. He teased and he acted like an infuriated feline whenever he was sick, but close to nothing could measure the degree to which he appreciated and simply loved you. And each time you would feel him gazing upon you in such a way, you’d smile back at him, letting him know you felt the same way.

Crosshair insisted he’d spend the night on the couch—he didn’t want to increase your risks of catching his cold by sleeping next to you like he normally would, even if the idea of clinging to you in his sleep while you played with his gray locks seemed particularly appealing. You both went into the room to get his pillow and some blankets, and he spent a relatively peaceful night on the sofa while you lay dreamlessly on the bed, missing his warmth.

You’d spent the night shifting, tossing blankets, twisting, and turning, but at least you had no risk of waking Crosshair all the way to the sofa. That thought would comfort you during your sleepless hours, and after you finally managed to sleep and wake the next morning, your head ached, you felt your nose congested, and you wanted nothing more than to remain there the entire day. You sat up on the bed, groaning as you channeled all your inner exhaustion and irony—had you known you were going to get sick anyway, you never would have let Crosshair sleep on the sofa.

You got up and didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas. You walked into the living room to find Crosshair was already awake and sitting up on the couch sipping a cup of coffee with a movie in the background, its volume low. He still had a blanket around him, but he didn’t look as groggy as he had the day before. More than that, his handsome features instantly adopted a grin and a heartfelt laugh when he laid eyes on you standing at the edge of the living room in your pajamas, your hair messy as it could ever be, sneezing, and groaning in frustration.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Crosshair shamelessly teased you.

“You did this to me,” you frowned, and your features scrunched even more when Crosshair laughed at the way you were now pronouncing your m’s.

“Funny how the tables turn, darlin’,” Crosshair smirked.

“And I suppose you’re feeling better?” You raised a brow at him.

“Better than yesterday, but…” Crosshair looked around at the living room before looking back at you. “I could use another day of rest.”

You smiled at him. “Lucky.”

Crosshair gave a light chuckle and opened one of his arms, inviting you to sit next to him under the warmth of his blanket. You slouched your way over to him and took a seat, snuggling into his lean figure, and Crosshair wrapped his arm and the rest of the blanket around you, gently kissing the side of your head.

“You want some soup?” He asked you.

You nodded, snuggling deeper into Crosshair’s warmth.

“I’ll call Wrecker,” Crosshair said before planting another gentle kiss on your temple and reaching for his holopad, and as long as you were curled up to him, the day ahead of you could take whatever turns it wanted.

[hitomisuzuya]

Catboy! Scaramouche x fem!reader Smut. Scenting. Breeding. Possessive behavior. A dash of Somnophilia. Catboy!Scara in heat. Choking. Some humor. Yandere!Scaramouche

I know I should be working on requests, but I have always wanted to try my hand at writing something like this. It's never a bad thing to expand one's horizons. I may end up making it a series.

You found Scaramouche injured and starving on your way home one day. You couldn't bear to leave him out in the rain in pain with no food, so you took him home with you. He hissed a little a you when you picked him up, and wrapped him in your jacket.

With some bristling from him, you got his leg bandaged and got him dried off. He turned his nose up anything you gave him to eat. He seemed to have a sensor for anything bought cheap at the grocery store. He finally found tuna that was on the more expensive side, and some warm milk suitable.

You stayed up all night with Scaramouche, reading to him. He lay curled up on one of your pillows on the other end of the bed. You were patient with him, since it seemed like he had been through a lot, and it was typical for cats to be stand offish to begin with.

You didn't fall asleep until he did. When you opened your eyes the next day, you saw that he had moved a little closer to you on the bed, peering curiously at you. He scampered backwards on the bed the second you woke up.

You affectionately named him Scarameow, to which he hissed at, but gradually accepted. You nursed the grumpy ball of fluff back to health. You noticed that little by little, he peered around corners, glaring at you, getting a little closer to you everyday.

Until one day, he hoped up on the couch while you were watching TV. He curled up in a ball next to you, and you swore you could hear purring for a few moments.

You hesitantly reached out to pet him. Usually, he fought you every step of the way when you wanted to show him affection, hissing at you and clawing at your hands. Sometimes he stayed in your lap for a little bit of time.

He hissed quietly at you before accepting your touch. He even seemed to like it because he moved his head into your hand. That night, he hoped up on the bed with you, deciding he wanted to fall asleep with you that night.

One day, you heard him meowing, motioning up at your bookshelf with his paw. "You want me to read to you?" You asked, to which he flicked his tail..and nodded? You thought it was funny how he even seemed to pick the book. It was the book you'd read to him from the first night you brought him home.

After that, Scaramouche started acting different around you. He was distant, avoiding you whenever he possibly could. You see, his rut was approaching and he'd accidentally walked into your room while you were changing.

You hardly saw him for two or three days.

One day, you came home to hear husky moans coming from the living room. You were startled to discover that your grumpy purple cat was nowhere to be found, but a boy with cat ears and a tail.

He laying on the couch, fisting his cock while he rutted into his hand. You could see layers of cum on his hand. His ears flattened instantly when he saw you. "Shit!" He cursed, hissing as he leapt up off the couch.

He went back into his cat form, darting off into the spare bedroom he always hide from you in. You now discovered that you didn't have a cat, but a hybrid, who grumbled that his name was Scaramouche when he came out of hiding, dressed in clothes that you didn't know where they came from.

Scaramouche had been up to things when you weren't home. He was scenting your clothes and your bed sheets with his scent. And in the middle of the night, in his cat form, he was scenting you while you slept. It wasn't long before he started sleeping next you in his human form, holding you curled against his chest.

He'd done nothing but jack himself off to thoughts of you naked when you weren't in the house. He would rub your panties on his cock, his indigo eyes squeezed shut as he fantasized about pinning you underneath him and fucking you full of his cum.

Your scent was starting to overwhelm him, you didn't know that you were walking around smelling like him. You were his. You shouldn't want to leave him alone when you went out. He started protesting when you told him you had to go out, and he insisted on going with you.

The night you told him you were going to animal sanctuary see a fox, Scaramouche got especially grumpy. He hated that you were going there, hated that you might be bringing another hybrid home.

He avoided you the entire time when you got back home. He crawled into bed with you after you fell asleep. He scented you, pumping his cock between your thighs, making sure his cum got on the insides of your thighs and near your cunt.

Scaramouche knew he couldn't keep doing this forever, you were sure to wake up during it. He'd come dangerously close to fucking you while you slept, itching to claw at and bite into your skin and mark you up as much as possible.

He had to do something. You were accepting and even seemed to like it the few times he'd gotten handsy with you in small fits of lust that he couldn't hold back, biting your lips swollen when he kissed you. He hadn't been able to stop his hands from roaming over your body.

Scaramouche never forgot the feeling of you shivering from his touches for the first time.

When being around you during his rut became too much to bear, Scaramouche pinned you against the wall, grinding against you as he licked up your neck. "Let me fuck you, let me breed you," He groaned, fighting the urge to tear off your clothes as he grinded his throbbing cock between your legs, "I don't think I can hold myself back anymore."

He enjoyed reducing you to a moaning, drooling mess underneath him, your fingernails clawing into his back. He fucked his cock so deep into you your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

His teeth ground and sucked dark bruises onto your skin, his fingers pressing more bruises just as deep possessively on your body.

Scaramouche hissed angrily when your hand reached out to pull one of his ears, a knee jerk reaction to your walls clamping tight around his cock as he kissed it deep into your sweet spot. His ears were always sensitive, his cock throbbing from having his ear pulled. "You slut," He wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing until you squirted on his cock.

His body shuddered in pleasure when he cummed inside of you. After fucking his cum inside of you, he licked you clean, eating you out until you were babbling and begging to cum inside of you again.

"What a cock drunk slut you are, you want to be bred that badly, hm?" Scaramouche gave your clit a few long sicks before he flipped you over, tugging your hips up to push his cock back inside of you.

During the rest of his heat, Scaramouche kept you isolated from everyone else, fucking you sometimes from hours in fits of frenzied lust.

As the day of when the fox hybrid was supposed to be coming home with you, he got especially aggressive and dominant with you while he was fucking you. It was already driving him crazy how you were starting to smell like the fox hybrid whom he'd heard you call Childe.

Imagine your surprise when one day, Scaramouche turned up with two other hybrids that looked nearly identical to him. They were named Wanderer and Kunikuzushi.

[buckyalpine]

A little longer

HI MY BEAUTIFUL 🐚ANON!! I adore this so much, I adore YOU so much, as always, your requests are everything!! 

Warnings: So so much fluffy fluff, angst if you really squint till your eyes go cross-eyed and blurry

-

"It's been decades. Not even a couple years. Almost a century. You probably shoot dust. Or whatever your bionic ass reproduces with"

Bucky contemplated throwing his half finished milkshake at Sam's head while they both scarfed down burgers from a late night diner after a taxing mission. Sam was pestering Bucky yet again about his nonexistent social and lack of a love life, a topic he seemed to get high off of. 

“For fucks sake Sam-”

"You need to get out more man, at least start dating. You don't need a whole girlfriend but a few dates wouldn't kill you. Or maybe it would, since you're what, 106?"

Bucky groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, his patience wearing thin. Dating wasn’t for him, not because he didn’t want to date but because he wasn’t sure who would even date him. He’d only just gotten comfortable talking to Sam though he’d never openly admit he actually enjoyed their conversations. He wasn’t exactly the most approachable, Peter had once told him he had a resting bitch face, whatever that meant. He wasn’t the most tech savvy unless it involved doing something illegal. He had a plethora of devices that could take down the US government at the push of a button he secrecy hoarded under his bed but God forbid someone ask him to pose for their Instagram story.  

Talking to a pretty girl was a completely different story. What would he even talk about? His time before the war involved a lot of nursing an injured or sick Steve back to health. After the war and his time in Hydra, he didn’t really have time for himself. He liked plums. The hobbit. He was thinking about getting a cat. Bucky internally groaned, maybe he’d find a girlfriend at the retirement home down the street; at least they’d have things in common. 

Sam cocked an eyebrow while Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. Usually he’d respond with a grumpy pout or complete silence but today his exhaustion had caught up with him. He debated on how to get Sam of his back, a dim, flickering, half broken bulb going off in his sleep deprived brain. 

"I already have a girlfriend Tweety bird"

The deafening silence that followed that statement made it clear both men were aware that was a lie. Sam snorted, shaking his head while they both finished they food, slapping a $50 on the counter before leaving. He looked at the super soldier, deciding not to press into the issue further for the night but he definitely wasn’t going to let it go that easily. 

5:30 AM

The buzz of his phone jolted him awake, the faint sound of the TV still playing in the background. Bucky felt around for his phone, tossing his sheet off, sitting up from his place on the floor seeing Sam’s caller ID light up the screen. 

“What are you doing next Saturday” Sam sounded unusually chipper, a hint of a smirk in his voice, a suspicious amount of enthusiasm for such an early hour. 

“Why” Bucky groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes, going back to lying down. 

“Were having a cookout over the weekend, you should come”

“You woke me up to tell me what could have been a text message?” Bucky asked incredulously, closing his eyes, ready to let sleep free him from such a ridiculous conversation. 

“Ooo, white panther knows how to text now” 

“White Wolf” Bucky grumbled, regretting every telling Sam the name he had been given in Wakanda. “I’ll come if you just let me go back to sleep” 

"Alright, but bring your girl too"

There it was. 

He could feel the shit eating grin Sam was giving him over the phone, eye brows wigging up and down, all his perfect teeth out. 

“Whatcha say Barnes?” 

Sleep had disappeared into thin air as Bucky shot up, mentally kicking himself for the nonsense he’d gotten himself into. He fiddled with the corner of his sheet, hoping to find an out. 

"I thought you only invited family" 

"Hey, anyone that you're allowing within 3 feet of your personal space might as well be considered family" Sam snorted, not believing a single word Bucky had said the night before. The conversation moved on to a different topic, easing some of Bucky’s nerves. A whole hour had passed and Bucky was sure he was in the clear until-  

“Back to the matter at hand, you bringing her or not?” 

“Why are you like this, does being Captain America always come with the caveat with also being a pain in my ass, I’m not going to-”

Bucky was about to refuse until a knock at the door pulled him away from the conversation, the scent of fresh pancakes wafting through the door. He pulled himself up, a smile tugging on his lips, knowing exactly who was on the other side, not needing to check as he untangled himself from the sheets. 

His sweet neighbor. 

Bucky wasn’t religious and he wasn’t a big believer in a higher power but there had to be something out there when people like you existed. Whenever Sam asked him why he stayed in the dingy little apartment that barely had windows and a closet for a bedroom, he’d insist it was because he preferred a small space and was still getting used to living a normal life so he wasn’t ready for another move just yet. 

The part he always left out was that his dingy apartment came with an absolute angle that lived next door. Kind hearted. Sweet. An absolute darling. You were one of the first people he’d interacted with when he moved in. All the nerves he had about living alone and growing accustomed to a regular life melted away the first day, when you came over with a plate of fresh cookies. 

He felt like a little boy whenever you were around, having the biggest crush on the prettiest girl on the playground, his mind going to mush whenever you smiled at him. But it wasn’t a crush. Nope. No....? No. He narrowed his eyes at himself before making his way to the door. 

“Buck? Did your tongue rust-” 

“I’ll uh-I’ll think about it” He mumbled before cutting the call, a bashful smile on his face as he unhooked the chain and swung the door open. “G’morning doll” 

“Good Morning” You grinned, handing Bucky the plate which he gratefully accepted, his stomach rumbling between the butterflies that fluttered in his tummy. “I heard you get in last night, didn’t think you’d have time to do a grocery run or cook anything” You handed him a bag of fruits and vegetables, two of those bags full of plums. His favorite. 

“You didn’t have to do all this” If his cheeks grew any warmer he would’ve sworn he was running a fever. And he didn’t get fevers. 

“You’re out saving the world, I think getting you a few groceries is the least I could do. So, how’s the new Captain?” You had never met Sam in person but hearing enough stories from Bucky told you all you needed to know. No one else was better suited to take on the shield than him. 

“A pain in my ass even if he means well” Bucky smiled shaking his head to himself. “He’s been pestering me to get out more...start dating” He mumbled the last part, wincing. He’d fought off aliens, gone to battle alongside a tree and a talking raccoon, survived being help captive by Hydra but being boyfriend material? His flirting game was as strong as pre serum Steve's right hook. 

“Well, handsome solider like you, shouldn’t be too hard to find you a date” You felt your own face heat up as soon as the words left your mouth but wasn’t like it was a secret. There was no way he would have had trouble in the dating department; aside from being one of the most beautiful people you’d laid your eyes on he was also the sweetest. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman and with a pure and soft heart and if you didn’t get your shit together and control the way he made you weak in the knees-

“Not the same ladies man I was in the 40′s doll” He chuckled, blue eyes sparkling at your compliment, “Either way, I got myself into a mess with that” He smiled sheepishly while you cocked your head, urging him to continue. 

“Well, I sort of lied to get him off my case” Bucky blushed, rubbing the back of his head, his the pink on his cheeks deepening at your cheeky smile. “I-I told him I already have a girlfriend but as you can see-” Bucky waved into his empty apartment that showed no signs of human life, “-it back fired immediately because he's invited my nonexistent girlfriend to a cookout this weekend. In Louisiana. With all his family. And friends”

Bucky let his head hit the wall with a dull thump, cursing himself for putting a foot in his mouth. Sure he could just come clean and say he lied. But that would mean admitting he lied and that was worse because then Sam would give him shit for that, plus try to get him out more and- 

“What if- what if I went with you?” Bucky’s head shot up, blinking in surprise at your words, wondering if he heard you correctly. “I could pretend to be your girlfriend for a day, get Cap off your case. Only if you’re comfortable with it though”

“Really? You’d do that?” You giggled at his lost puppy expression, his eyes lighting up when he realized you were being serious.

“Of course” You smiled sincerely,  “I’d be happy to! Just let me know what time to be ready at and I’ll be all yours” 

All his.  

The little boy in his was running around in circles, his heart beating too fast for the rest of his body to keep up. The thought of you being his girlfriend for a day was more than he could ever dream of. Of course it was only pretend and he’d wouldn’t dare push for more; not when you deserved the world. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to deal with Sam’s nagging. 

Problem solved. 

*****

This was a bad idea. 

A bad, bad idea. 

Bucky had gone through at least 4 outfits, debating between an array of Henley’s, before settling on a blue one when he remembered you complimented it because it was blue like his eyes. He picked up his razor and then immediately put it down when he remembered you once said you liked the scruff on him.  Even if this was just pretend, every single part of him was on edge as if this were a real date. As soon as his enhanced hearing picked up your soft footsteps padding down the hall, he was right by the door, nervously chewing his lip. 

Bucky blinked, his heart nearly giving way at 106 years old when he saw you make your way down the hall towards his apartment. You were in a flowery sundress, with a large cakebox in hand, your sweet perfume already making him dizzy. If Sam didn’t kill him for lying, the crush he had on you would be the next thing to take him out. 

"You-you look beautiful"  And sweet. And adorable. And delectable. 

An angel.

You looked like an angel. 

"Thank you, you look good too Sarge" You looked down at Bucky’s chest instead of meeting his eyes, unable to look at his pretty face. His adorable face. Handsome face. That dimple on his chin. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Fuck, you had such a big crush on him. 

It was going to be an interesting day. 

*****

Bucky parked the car at Sam’s place, which wasn’t too far from the lake where everyone had gathered. Part of him was almost sad they had made it on time; the car ride over with you ending faster than he’d liked.  

“He wasn’t kidding when he said he only invited family” Bucky snorted, seeing all of Sam’s relatives there along with his closest neighbors, many of whom he’d met before. He took the cakebox from you, slipping his hand into yours, smiling when you gave him a reassuring squeeze. You both made your way over, hand in hand, your heart skipping a beat each time someone greeted Bucky, every single person over joyed that he’d finally met someone to call his. 

He made his way over to the grill where Sam filliped a few burgers; the new Cap grinning when he saw you both. There was no missing the sparkle in his eyes when he looked down to your hand in Bucky’s, noting you were was holding his metal one, no longer covered by gloves. 

Interesting. 

“You’re lookin’ good” Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Bucky, loving the way the soldier rolled his eyes, trying to brush off the way his cheeks were dusted pink. 

“This is y/n, my girlfriend” Girlfriend. Bucky loved the way it rolled off his tongue with ease, not feeling an ounce of hesitance. The word previously feeling so foreign to him now felt so natural when he had you by his side. And holding your hand. And hearing your laugh. And-

Relax Bucky, it’s just for a day. 

“I’m Sam, and it’s very nice to meet you” He pulled you into a hug, still curiously eyeing Bucky, genuinely unable to figure out where he’d managed to find a sweetheart like you. 

“Thank you for the invite” you giggled as he gave you a light squeeze before letting you go, inspecting the cakebox Bucky handed to him. He grinned at the fresh strawberries that decorated the cake, shamelessly plucking one off and popping it into his mouth. “Strawberry shortcake. A little white wolf told me it was your favorite” 

“Well if the big bad wolf likes you then I like you cause he doesn’t like anybody. You must be special” Sam mused, a part of him wanting to be skeptical but there was nothing, absolutely nothing made up about the Bucky was looking at you. He gazed down at you as if you’d hung the moon and stars right in his room, an utterly lovesick puppy. You felt your cheeks heat up, burying your face into Bucky’s side while he chuckled, pulling you closer to him and pressing a kiss on top of your head. Damn right, she’s special. 

You both made your way over to mingle with the rest of the crowd, have no trouble at all playing the role of an utterly in love boyfriend and girlfriend. Bucky didn’t miss a single chance to press little kisses on your cheeks, every so often pecking your nose. His hand never left your waist, always holding you close to him, his face occasionally buried into the crook of your neck. 

You played your part almost better than he did, gushing over what a gentleman he always was to you, stayed tucked by his side, nuzzling under his chin, occasionally actually getting lost in his soft scent of laundry detergent, his cologne and something distinctly him. You made the elderly ladies giggle and blush each time Bucky did something adorable, proudly showing you off to everyone. 

He didn’t even let you eat without being the most perfect doting boyfriend. You’d both served your plates, finding a nice spot to sit under a shady tree; Bucky sat on the large lawn chair, secretly happy there was only one. You were about to walk off to get another when he tugged your wrist and pulling you back. 

“C’mere, I wont bite” Bucky grinned, surprised with himself as he pulled you onto his lap with ease. You let out a squeak, your nose bumping against his as you plopped onto him, lips nearly brushing his. 

“Smooth, Barnes. Remind me again, how you don’t have a girlfriend” You let out a breathless laugh, screaming to yourself on the inside that this was fake. He was playing the role perfectly, that was all. So fucking perfectly. 

Why was he so perfect. 

Bucky smirked, kissing your shoulder, letting you relax against his chest, wondering if you’d feel his heart hammering against his ribcage from how flustered he actually was. He easily maneuvered you so you sat comfortably across his thighs, his arm still securely around your waist. 

When was he ever this smooth. 

If anyone else was this close, he’s run for the hills, but now he was contemplating tossing you over his shoulder and running to Sam’s house, the guest bedroom was upstairs and two doors to the right-

“Well I’ll be damned, he really does have a girlfriend” Sam shook his head while Joaquin snorted, both men looking at you and Bucky with heart eyes while they sipping their beers from the docks. 

“You think they’re faking?” Joaquin nudged Sam’s shoulder, watching Bucky now fed you a piece of cake, still keeping you on his lap, sneakily kissing the cream from the corner off your lips between bites. You’d giggle every time, feeding him a strawberry, squealing when he’s playfully bite your fingers. 

“You can fake a lot of things but not the way he’d blushing and giggling like a toddler in a candy store” Bucky played with your fingers, intertwining them with his hand, his nose scrunching as he laughed at something you said. 

“It’s nice to see him like this” Joaquin had seen grumpy Bucky, grouchy Bucky, angry Bucky, scary Bucky, sleepy Bucky, just about every Bucky on the planet, but this? This was a first. Love struck Bucky. Charming Bucky. Happy Bucky. Simpy Bucky. Sappy Bucky. Giggly Bucky. Playful biting Bucky. Ready to get down on one knee if you’d let him, Bucky. 

“Steve always said he was a charmer, he wasn’t lying”

They couldn’t take their eyes off the way the corner of Bucky’s eyes crinkled each time he smiled or the way you’d instinctively lean into him when he spoke. He’d tuck your hair away from your face, his hands lingering on your cheek for a second longer, giving them a glimpse of the man from the 40′s before the war,  youthful and innocent, his heart full of hope, a smirk that would make his best girl swoon; the both of you in your own little world. 

“He looks happy”

Sam had seen people look happy before. They’d smile but their eyes would be empty. They’d laugh but their voices were hollow. They’d look like they were on top of the world while sitting at rock bottom. The way Bucky’s eyes sparkled, his boyish laugh, the way he’d nuzzle into you, trying to be closer to you than physically possible, was more than just looking happy. 

“He is happy”

Bucky had completely forgotten about pretending with you, lost in how perfectly you fit in his arms. You had taken up your role very seriously, telling him how utterly handsome he was, never missing moment to peck his scruffy cheek or card your fingers through his short soft locks. You intertwined you fingers with his vibrainium ones, busing your lips against his cool knuckles. 

At some point in the afternoon, he’d slipped his jacket off and wrapped you up with it as evening crept around the corner. Not a single person doubted the nature of your relationship; at least four of Sam’s uncles had told Bucky to propose soon. 

You don’t meet a girl who makes you this damn giggly just anywhere, Sergeant. Hold onto her. 

****

Just when he thought he couldn’t fall for you more, you had fallen asleep in his arms, contently snuggled up in his jacket as the sunset over the lake. Most of Sam’s family had gone back home, a few close relatives still hanging around the boat, sipping on coffee. Bucky couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you, softly kissing your forehead; he could get used to this. Cuddling up with you after date nights. Hearing your laugh. The softness of your lips. The way your hand always found itself in his metal one without hesitation. 

Fuck he wished this was real. 

You stirred slightly, a content sigh slipping past your lips at the feel of his kiss. Nothing felt more comfy than being wrapped up by the super soldier, his solid arms holding you close. You didn’t want to wake up, wishing you could sleep forever if it meant you’d be this close to Bucky all the time. The day felt like a dream; the exact dreams you had when you thought about your sweet neighbor. How it’d be for him to call you yours. To Be his girl. To make him smile. To make him laugh. 

If only it wasn’t just for a day. 

“You have a nice nap, baby?” Bucky smirked as you blinked awake, stretching on his lap like a cat before snuggling against him again. “My pretty girl” 

“Why wouldn’t I when my boyfriend is the comfiest spot to sleep on?” You teased, bringing your hand up to toy with the chain of his dog tags. Bucky chuckled, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, kissing your nose. There was no one around you both, though neither of you seemed interesting in dropping the act just yet. 

“You fit perfectly here, doll” He grinned, blushing when he hesitantly pulled you a little closer, your arms moving to wrap around his shoulders, resting on the back of his neck. 

“I think I like it here” You sucked in a breath as he rested his forehead against yours, bringing his hand to cup your cheek. His nose gently bumped against yours, his warm breath tickling your lips. 

“Me too” He closed the gap between you both, pressing his lips to yours sweetly, savoring every bit of your softness. He couldn’t help but deepen the kiss as you parted your mouth letting his tongue lace with yours while your hand made its way through his hair, tugging on his short locks. Bucky let out a groan, letting his hands drop to your waist, kissing you for as long as he could until you both needed oxygen. 

“Maybe we can pretend for a little longer?” Bucky broke away, panting, his forehead still pressed against yours. You giggled between breaths, peppering kisses across his face. 

“Just a little longer?” 

“Maybe- maybe forever?” He looked at you with his classic puppy eyes, his heart bursting when you pulled him in for another kiss; forever. Forever sounded good. 

A few years later

“So, you finally gonna admit I made this happen?” Sam whispered while Bucky snorted, shaking his head. 

“Not gonna happen” 

“C’mon, I made this happen, I caused this” 

“You caused chaos” 

Sam scoffed in fake offence, taking a sleepy Becca from Bucky’s arms while the soldier went to go check on you. “Now when do I get to meet my second God child?”

“In a few hours” Bucky stretched before making his way back to your room, smiling at your resting form. He carefully laid down beside you, letting his hand splay across your tummy; in just a few more hours there would be a little Samuel Grant Barnes in the world. 

“We’re really good at pretending” You murmured, make Bucky chuckle, taking your hand in his and kissing the ring that sat on your finger. 

“Maybe just one more baby after this? Really convince them, Mrs. Barnes?”

*

“Uncle Sam, tell me a bedtime story?” Becca pouted, having been at the hospital for hours, giving Sam the exact same face Bucky gave you. Her little bottom lip jutting out, big (y/c/e) eyes blinking up at him. He grinned, settling her on his lap before he made a thinking face before asking what she’d want to hear. 

“What kinda story, Beccs, an animal story, a super cool falcon story or Captain America story or a flying Falcon Captain America story?” 

“The chaos daddy said you caused” She giggled while Sam nodded, taking a deep breath before starting. 

“It all started when your daddy said he had a girlfriend...”

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[frostedpuffs]

one of the saddest things abt having a rescue animal in which you don't know its past is just being able to tell they were abused at some point in their life. i've had my cat bella for about a year now—she appeared in my yard one day out of nowhere, with an injured leg, skin infection, and full of worms, and even though she was terrified of me at first, i earned her trust enough to take her to the vet. spent weeks earning her love and nursing her back to health. she was microchipped, and her previous "owner" lived over a two hour drive away. despite numerous attempts to get this woman to come pick up her cat she said she wanted, she never came, which is for the best. i know there is no way that cat walked that far. i know she was dumped. but legally i had to try to contact the owner. on the final phone call with her, she confessed she was not coming for the cat, and ghosted me after that.

anyway, after a few months trying and failing to find this cat a home with multiple people saying they wanted her and then changing their minds, i finally decided to take her in for good because i knew i had the capacity to care for her and this whole jumping around homes thing was not good for her. even though i was really afraid of how she and my other cats would get along

nowadays bella sits on my desk every single night, happy, healthy, well cared for and well fed, but even though I've never shown this cat anything but love and kindness, she still flinches when i move. she still becomes defensive and bites or scratches me if i move in a certain way that scares her. she still carries that fear with her. i can show this cat as much love, patience, and care as i can, but it will never take away the fact that earlier in her life, someone she trusted hurt her and abandoned her. and i will never stop feeling sick knowing that somewhere within the first 6 years of this cat's life, she was living in fear & being hurt by someone. but i have no proof other than how she behaves. but i know what causes that behavior. and i am so glad she has me now, someone who she can spend the rest of her life with, knowing nothing but love. im at least thankful that out of all the yards to randomly appear in, she chose mine

[mysumeow]

. . . ꒰ FOUND WOUNDED

Warnings: afab genitalia, gender neutral pronouns. PIV unprotected sex, Lilia takes a dominant role throughout the smut, hair pulling (reader giving), overstimulation (reader receiving), cunnilingus. not proofread it is what it is.

Summary: Out of the kindness of your heart —and naivety mixed in— you nurse back to health the injured fae you came across with in the forest.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: if you find a mistake just ➖➖ close your eyes like that and pretend you dont see it. my contribution for general lilia lovers (myself included💗)

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . KOFI | NEXT

At first, General Lilia was like a feral cat when you tried to get close to him.

Injured and almost unconscious; that was how you had found him. A gaping wound on his abdomen. Regardless of his blurry vision, he could still make out the smell of a human.

Thus, through deep breaths and pained winces, he demanded that you not come closer. Those demands were accompanied by curses and hisses, of course.

Perhaps you were naive or had no sense of self-preservation, or both, because despite his refusal to receive aid, you carried him on your back.

Had the fae been in better condition, you wouldn't have made one step forward without some inconvenience happening.

Lilia's first instinct, when he awoke the next day, was to attempt to flee before you realized he was up. Granted, the pain from recent battle wounds sliced through his being, rendering him to fall back on the bed.

His heartbeat picked up once he saw you walking into the room, kicking the door shut, and carrying breakfast in your hands.

The fae's words were nothing short of disdainful, accompanied by threats.

You were aware of the complex human-fae relationships and weren't surprised by his outburst. Instead, you ignored his empty words, left the breakfast on the little nightstand next to the bed, and left.

Although the general wasn't pleased at the fact you dismissed his words as if he were blabbering, he himself knew he wouldn't hurt a defenseless human like yourself. He's willing to turn a blind eye to those that aren't part of the Silver Owl's; after all, you weren't an immediate threat to him.

He sighed, turning to look at the source of the appealing aroma on the nightstand.

He wasn't that hungry, right? He could just wait a while longer, just to establish a sense of power over you—he didn't need you as much as you thought he did.

The grumbling from his stomach made his thoughts pause.

By lunch time, you decided it was a reasonable idea to check back on the fae you rescued yesterday.

The plate was clean, as you expected.

Without sharing another word, you gathered the plate and the utensils to head back to the kitchen, until the fae’s low voice and dry manner of speaking interrupted you.

“You know our kind have had conflicts of interest, right?” You couldn’t identify any sort of hostility or ill-intent from him when he spoke his mind.

“I...” You stopped to wonder if you actually considered that detail when you decided to bring this stranger into the safety of your home. “I wouldn’t be able to turn my back on someone who’s about to die,”

Lilia stared at you; you couldn’t discern how he took the comment.

“Hmph,” he said, crossing his arms. “You humans underestimate faes. I’ve survived worse wounds. This is nothing in comparison.”

“Yeah, yeah. You're, oh, so dangerous, and I'm, oh, so fragile. Please don’t kill me, Mr. Fae,” you feigned a squeakier voice. You reveled in amusement at his displeased expression. Suddenly, you realized you didn’t even know his name. “By the way, I don’t know what to call you.”

For a moment, Lilia considered not telling you. He would flee this place as soon as he could, so what was the point? He reasoned. Despite that, he figured that you would be more fearful of him if he revealed his name, as everyone knew the title that was accompanied by it.

“Or do you want me to keep calling you Mr. Fae?” You kept poking fun at him.

“I’m Lilia Vanrouge. Does the name ring any bells to you?”

You stopped for a moment to think.

“To be honest, no.”

Lilia wondered how you were still alive at this point, being so detached from the current events going on. You had just enough information to know about the war that was going on.

Unbelievable. He shook his head before looking down at the bandages wrapped around his lower abdomen.

The dull pain that comes from wounds was still present, albeit less than yesterday. He made an effort to sit up on the bed and undid the bandages, wanting to check the wound. If he applied less strength than usual, the sting was bearable.

You stitched his lesion while he was unconscious. Even though your work was decent, he couldn’t help but wish there were fairies nearby who could speed up the healing process. He couldn’t stop thinking back on his troops, the princess, his kind—they needed him right now.

Lilia’s troubled pondering stopped when you came back.

“I was just about to ask how you were feeling. The stitches haven’t opened, right?” You dabbed the rag into the water, looking to use the piece of cloth to clean up any dirt or blood that might’ve been left over from the prior day.

“Halt, human,” he tried to scurry away, flustered. “I can do it myself. I managed to eat on my own. I don’t need your help. Wait outside,”

“Okay, but you still should clean the rest of your body. I thought I could help you walk to the bathroom so you can use the shower,” you said, placing a hand on your chin. “Will you be able to reach your back? Bend enough to clean your legs?”

Lilia narrowed his eyes, partly out of suspicion. “If I were you, I’d be more cautious of a stranger,” he sighed. “I’ll allow you to help me clean my back. The rest, I can manage. Try anything funny, and I’ll make sure you’ll regret it,”

“Anything funny? You mean killing you? Do you think I would go to these lengths just to murder you?”

“My point stands.”

You guided the fae towards your bathroom; you left him alone so he could undress and wash what he could without your help. Once he was done, he called to you, where he was waiting, sitting on the wooden bathroom’s stool with a towel wrapped around his hips.

He didn’t acknowledge you entering; he just sat there in silence, waiting for you to pour water on his scarred back. Some scars were new, some were old, and others were fading.

His ears flicked when he heard you sit behind him.

The session was…awkward, to say the least. You both were quiet, and you wondered what he was thinking about during his silence. You resisted the urge to trace the scars on his back. You surmised that it must be a sensitive topic for him. You knew about the hardships of war, but having a glimpse of the surface of them awakened a sense of pity for him.

You slid the rag along his back. Albeit having a thin frame, there was some tonification...

He shivered, interrupting both your train of thoughts and your languid movements.

“You done?” he asked, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Yes,” you answered curtly, ashamed of yourself for allowing your mind to wander that much.

From then on, having the general living under the same roof was...an experience. To you, he seemed to have some sort of internal conflict when speaking to you; sometimes, he would speak in a kinder way, and at other times, he would go back to his withdrawn and indifferent attitude.

Like he was afraid of getting too attached soon.

You would tease him, proclaiming that he had developed a soft spot for you. He would either roll his eyes, huff, or deny, until he stopped paying attention to your “pointless ramblings” (as he called them). You couldn’t help but find amusement at the idea of this fae getting tired of your teasing and preferring to ignore them.

Of course, the general would rather die than admit his days in relative leisure with you were quite endearing—he wouldn’t admit his true feelings to himself either—as having someone looking out for you was a change of pace for his days of solitude. Solitude comes in the form of having no one else but himself to rely on.

For a human such as yourself to be selfless enough to nurse him back to health, even if not necessary until a certain point, made you stand out over the rest of the past human interactions he’d experienced.

Avarice and thoughtlessness were, after all, the reasons why the fae clashed with humanity.

Alack, he couldn’t stay here with you for the rest of his life.

Basking in the last rays of sunlight, sitting on the fresh grass as you shared a meal, you didn’t expect Lilia to have a gloomy expression.

“You’re going back to your military camp?”

“The war isn’t over yet. I’ve wasted enough time waiting for my wounds to heal,” Absentmindedly, his hands hovered over where the gaping wound once was. “You’ve been…”

“Hm?” You directed your focus to him, expecting him to finish his sentence while you munched on a slice of bread.

“I’ll give it to you. You’ve been helpful, but also annoying. I wouldn’t have imagined someone to have the ability to both heal and damage someone at the same time,” he took a sip of the tea and turned his head away in agitation.

“Would it hurt too much to just say ‘thank you’?” You rolled your eyes.

“Thank you,” he agreed, so you would drop the topic.

The sun had long since set, the single light source coming from your home. Lilia gave one last glance at your profile, noticing you were deep in thought.

He opened his mouth to tell you he was going inside again. Then he closed it again, thinking maybe you didn’t want to be disturbed by whatever you were reflecting on.

For the past few weeks, stress over how his troops were doing has built up. The general couldn’t wait any longer to go back to them.

He departed that same night.

Lilia took a quick look at the bedroom he has been staying in, checking if there was anything he should take with him before departing.

Alongside his mask, he wielded his magical lithic with practiced ease. 

He placed a hand on the window and pulled the lower panel up to open it. With a foot already on the windowsill, he hesitated.

I haven’t said goodbye to...

Almost as if driven by instinct, he went back to the living room, where he last saw you a couple of hours before.

At first, he didn’t see you. He rationalized that you were in your bedroom now; however, a soft snore made him realize that wasn’t the case.

Sprawled on the couch. Blanket on the floor. Your head is almost falling off the edge of said furniture.

That’s how he found you sleeping.

He deadpanned, reaching down towards the blanket on the floor and draping it over your sleeping form.

Did Lilia feel at fault that he didn’t get to say goodbye? Yes. Nevertheless, the fae was set on answering the call of his obligations before letting himself realize it.

Being a proper general like him, he located the camp with ease. Every single one of his comrades celebrated his return.

Now, this was an environment he was used to. It felt right; this was what he was familiar with.

And despite that, he couldn’t shake you off his thoughts. Not even the next day.

His mind kept reeling back on the idea of heading towards your small cottage to apologize.

Lilia groaned in frustration, turning around on the makeshift bed inside his tent. He stared at the walls, asking himself if it made sense for him to have these feelings.

Humans are weak. I should check on that human. Yeah, that’s it. That human is clumsy.

While putting on his armor and tying the knots in their places, he couldn’t believe himself—he was going back just to see you.

It was past midnight. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to go see you, but he hoped you were up. He remembered that you tend to stay up past that hour.

He found himself smiling fondly at the memory before his smile dropped at the smell of smoke and fire in the distance.

With a racing heart, Lilia hurried to where he knew your home was.

Engulfed by fire.

The orange embers reflected on Lilia’s eyes as he gawked at the unbelievable sight. Soon, his attention was brought back to unknown faces inspecting around the perimeter. He identified the silver armor, and Lilia didn’t waste any more time acting.

“The general!” One of them shouted, the others unsheathed their swords, and they prepared to attack.

By the sound of it, Lilia supposed that this was an ambush, since it appeared that they were after him and set the house on fire to have a better chance of hunting him down.

“Where’s the human?!” Lilia demanded, pushing the lithic blade against the soldier he trapped.

“Calcinated, perhaps,” he spat.

As she was about to slice him open, something stopped Lilia.

With a hand on his arm, you managed to halt his movements. Had you come any later, the soldier would’ve had his neck chopped.

You didn’t give him a chance to question you; rather, you pulled him away from the burning place and into the forest.

To say the fae was speechless was a way to put it—he was baffled. Up until a certain moment, he managed to regain his composure and grab you by the shoulders.

“Why didn’t you let me end him?!” He shook you. “You allowed those pesky pests to get away with it!”

“Lilia—”

“What?!”

“You’re digging your nails. It hurts.”

His arms dropped back to his sides, as if you were scalding hot.

“Now what’re you going to do? Your home…”

“I have no other choice other than traveling back to town.”

“Alone? In the middle of a war? You’re lucky enough I was willing to spare you, but I can’t guarantee other faes will do the same,” Again, his hands were on you. “You’re coming with me,”

Your mind stalled.

“Huh?” You followed him when he began heading in a direction only he knew where it ended. “Are you accompanying me towards the town?”

“Do I look like someone who has that much time to spare?” He squeezed your hand more. “I’ll take you to my camp,”

You stopped walking, pulling on his hand.

“You can’t be serious. Aren’t they going to kill me?”

“Dare anyone lay a hand on you, I’ll return the action tenfold.”

“How are you so sure they won’t dare hurt me?”

“Because I’m their general.”

“So, when were you planning on telling me that minuscule detail?” Your voice became increasingly louder as you spoke from shock. “That all this time, I’ve had the general in my home?!”

“You’re going to attract an enemy’s attention. Shut up,” he said, covering your mouth with his hand. “Let’s get going,”

You managed to escape unscathed from the fire but were exhausted from the stress of having to flee. You hugged yourself while you followed the general, fending off the chill of the night that was starting to seep into your being.

There was someone waiting by the camp’s entrance, and Lilia knew who that was.

“General, there you are!” The man’s green eyes fixed on you; sheer disdain reflected on them upon seeing you. “What’s that human doing here? They didn’t harm you, right?!”

“Quiet, Baur! This human is coming with me,” Lilia looked at you for a second. “This person is... who found me wounded back then,”

It seemed as if Lilia had mentioned you to this fae named Baur before your meeting.

“I trust you’ll keep this a secret. If the soldiers ask why this human is with us, tell them that they’re being held hostage to aid with manual labor,” Lilia had made up his mind. There was no way he would let you dive into danger.

“General… I trust your judgment above all, but—”

“My decision isn’t up for debate.”

Baur shifted his gaze back on you, unconvinced of the general’s judgment. Regardless, he recognized his position and didn’t object further.

You were drowsy. You didn’t notice you followed Lilia into his tent.

Lilia, too, occupied with his own musings, didn’t bat an eye at the arrangement.

"It would be a better idea if—" he turned around and saw you had already made yourself comfortable on his bed. You had shrugged your coat off in a messy manner, one sleeve still up your shoulder.

Acting out what felt natural, he kneeled on the makeshift mattress and finished pulling the sleeve off your body. Then he grabbed the blanket to place it over you, but you stopped him by putting your hand on his cheek.

"You look tired too," you noted with a whisper.

"Not more than you."

"My body's exhausted, but my mind's wide awake still," You moved your hand away from his cheek and reached behind him to slide the hair tie off. His ponytail became undone, locks of hair falling on either side of his face.

His hand snatched yours, albeit his face was flushed and his ears red. He held your gaze, bodies rising in temperature, until he couldn’t hold it anymore and leaned down to kiss you. It started as a vehement desire to demonstrate the feelings bottled up inside.

You weren’t faring any better, hugging him close to you despite how his fangs would bite down on your lip, almost drawing blood from his eagerness. Lilia rested his weight atop yours, pinning you down against the bed, hands wandering around your torso and squeezing what he could.

Breathless, Lilia pulled away, panting, his fangs peeking.

Intrigued by their shape, your thumb touched the pointy edge, feeling its puncture on the surface.

“Your fangs. They’re very sharp,” Your thumb moved away from the impressive canine teeth, preferring to graze it across his reddened bottom lip.

“Keep touching me like that, and I’ll use them to leave marks on that pretty neck of yours.”

You swiped your finger over his lip again.

His hand went straight to your head and pulled to expose your neck; a soft mewl escaped you. In no time, restless hands undid each other’s clothes in a haze. Lilia reminded you to avoid waking up the slumbering soldiers with your constant moans.

Had his mouth not been occupied slurping and sucking your clit, he would’ve had to control his voice too; Lilia had told you to get on top of him, baring your pussy in the most vulnerable way possible by placing your knees on either side of his head. You started by trying to not suffocate him, fearing that it might be too much—Lilia couldn’t care any less about that since he pulled you closer by your hips.

Sloppy—the very image of starving and making a mess between your legs. He guided your hips to move in backward and forward motions, just making it harder for you to quiet down. 

“Lilia,” you tried to warn him of your approaching orgasm.

One hand tightened on your hips when he sensed you trying to get off, while the other slid up the small of your back to push you forward, making it easier for him to reach your clit.

“I’m going to cum, Lilia. Please,” You weren’t even sure what you were asking for, but your hips trembled, and you didn't want that satisfaction to end.

You bit down on your hand to silence yourself when you reached your climax.

However, Lilia’s hunger wasn’t satiated. You felt as if he was about to pounce on you, which wasn’t far-fetched, because he proceeded to change positions and push you on your back.

You couldn’t hold back your whimpers as Lilia kept teasing your sensitive clit, trying to tell him you were still coming down from your orgasm, but your own mind betrayed you. Lilia’s grin was fiendish, adoring the way you were so responsive to him.

“That was all it took to get this pussy this drenched?” He fingered your hole, and beyond indecent sounds came from there. “Listen to that. You’re beyond soaked. Even the insides of your thighs are covered with your cum. Didn’t you enjoy that a little too much?” he teased.

“F-Fuck, shut up,” your cheeks burned from embarrassment.

He wasn’t better off himself either. Beads of precum both roll down his dick and drip on your thigh. With the same hand he masturbated you with, he used your slick to further lubricate his cock, even if it wasn’t necessary given how wet you were.

He aligned it with your entrance and pushed in, panting from how good you felt to him. The moment he was completely inside, he began thrusting with unparalleled pace. You bit your lip, along with teary eyes, making your best attempt at keeping your voice down. Lilia noticed you struggling and bent down to shut you up with his own lips. For that instance, the tempo staggered but was still thrusting hard.

Through your foggy mind, you wondered how such a slim body like his was able to muster this much force at such a rapid pace. How a fae with a pretty and charming face like his could be this debauched...

“Ah…” he moaned against your neck, hunger overriding any sense of rationality. Lilia hid his face in your neck, licking and kissing it.

Without you needing to tell him, the general busied his hand with your clit again, pushing you closer to an orgasm. At this point, he went back to that sloppy tempo, and your hands darted to his disheveled hair, tugging those lovely locks of magenta and black hair. You tugged slightly harder without you discerning as you orgasmed, your body quivering from the intensity of the climax. A small grunt left him and came shortly after you.

After a while of catching his breath, he pulled away and lied down next to you.

“You’re lucky these soldiers are heavy sleepers, and my tent isn’t close to theirs.”

You covered your face, realizing that you were basically surrounded by more faes. “I don’t want to show my face to them,”

Essentially, the soldiers were heavy sleepers thanks to the weariness of having to train early in the day, do manual work, fight, run up and down the mountain, and everything else. They didn’t hear a thing. As for Baur, however...