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lionneee · 2 days

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Your sworn sword

English is not my first language, please be kind

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•Warnings: fingering, degradation (just a bit), 'just the tip', talking of sexual themes, piv, smut.•

{Request: I have a request! Aemond is send across the narrow sea to be the sworn sword/knight of a (verryy beautiful) princess from a noble house is esso’s. As punishment what he did to lucerys Thanks for reading dear 💙}

To say that Prince Aemond was grumpy was an euphemism.

He was rigid, stoic, and rude.

But your father loved him.

You couldn’t understand why, not after his most recent kill: his little nephew.

You remembered meeting Luke Velaryon once, he was a nice, gentle, kind boy.

His brother Jace was just the same.

Princess Rhaenyra had been invited as a guest at your father’s name day feast with her family, and you remembered spending a nice afternoon with her sons.

You actually kept contact with her youngest child, Jace. You two sometimes sent letters to each other, talking of your days apart.

You would have never said it outloud, but you had a weakness for the boy’s dark, beautiful hair.

But he was promised to her cousin Baela.

As soon as you heard the news, you thought he would have stopped sending you letters, but he didn't, and you almost cried of joy when the next letter came.

Then, your father sided with the greens.

He sided with rude, dangerous people, and named the worst of them as your sworn sword.

When he told you about his choice you begged him, you cried, you did everything you could to try to change his mind but it was all to no avail.

Now, all the other Ladies never sat with you, they were afraid to speak with you, all because of some dark, evil, scary person standing behind you, following every step you took.

It was so obvious how much he hated being a night, yet, he stood his role perfectly.

Aemond was always there, lurking like a shadow behind you, his presence cold and heavy, suffocating your every breath. He never spoke to you unless necessary, never showed any warmth or softness in his voice. There was nothing but formality and distance, a thick wall of indifference that made your skin crawl whenever he was near.

To be fair, the only thing you thought interesting of him was his dragon Vaghar.

Your days had become a game of silence, your once carefree nature now replaced with the constant awareness of his eyes on you. You missed the days when you could write to Jace without a worry, when his words brought you comfort and a glimpse of hope. Now, the letters felt like a secret rebellion, something dangerous, but you couldn’t give them up. They were the only link to a world that still held some warmth.

You still wrote to him, though your letters had become shorter, more cautious. You dared not mention Aemond, or your isolation. Instead, you spoke of mundane things, of books you were reading, of the changing seasons. Jace’s responses, too, had shifted, though he remained kind and attentive. There was always a note of tension, a hint of restraint. You knew he was aware of the shifting tides, of your father's allegiance to the Greens.

You happily walked in your room, smiling as you held the newest letter on your hand from Jace.

Aemond was walking right behind you, but you couldn’t care.

Jace's letter had just come.

You chuckled to yourself as you closed the door of your room behind you, leaving Aemond outside, guarding your door.

You jogged to your desk, sitting down on the chair and breaking the sigil, opening with trembling hands the letter.

There were only a few lines written.

You furrowed your brows, confused. He usually wrote at least one page.

Dearest friend,

I assume you have heard of my family’s recent loss, my sweet brother Luke, gone by the hand of my uncle Aemond.

It saddens me to tell you this, but due to your father’s allegiance and your newest sworn sword, I believe it is time to end our communications.

Jace Velaryon

You felt a pain in your chest.

A deep pain.

You weren’t going to receive any more letters from him.

I believe it is time to end our communications.

You stood up from your desk, leaving the letter to hit the floor as you ran to your bed, laying face down, your arms crossed under your face as you bursted into tears.

You didn’t eat lunch, you didn’t have dinner. You didn’t want to get up from your bed.

Your maids, even one of your closest friends tried to walk past Aemond to check on you, but he was impenetrable, he wouldn’t let anyone in, not if you didn’t want them to.

His behavior left you speechless.

You knew he was loyal, you knew he was one to do his duty, but the way he stood up for you, not letting anyone in just as you asked, left you almost flattered.

The hours dragged on as you laid in your bed, the room dark and suffocating. The weight of Jace's words still lingered, pressing down on your chest. It was as though the last thread connecting you to the warmth of your past had been severed. You felt utterly alone, the castle walls seeming colder, the silence more deafening.

But outside your door, Aemond remained, steadfast and unmoving. His presence felt different now, less like the shadow you despised and more like an unavoidable part of your life. He had become a constant, whether you liked it or not, and now, oddly, that constancy brought a shred of comfort in your moment of loss.

By the time the moon rose high in the sky, you hadn’t moved from your bed, save to cry quietly into your pillow. The pain of Jace's rejection, not just of you but of the friendship you had cherished, was overwhelming. You couldn’t bring yourself to think of anything else, let alone leave your room.

A soft knock echoed through the thick wooden door. At first, you ignored it, thinking it was another maid or friend trying to check on you, Aemond would have taken care of it in a moment. But after a moment, there was another knock, firm yet measured, followed by a voice, calm, collected, and unmistakably Aemond’s.

"You haven't eaten." He said, his tone devoid of his usual coldness, though it was still restrained. You laid still, wondering if you could pretend you hadn’t heard him. But the silence lingered too long, and it was clear he wasn’t going to leave. He was your sworn sword, after all, bound to you, whether you liked it or not.

"I’m not hungry." You muttered into your pillow, your voice muffled and thick with the remnants of tears.

There was a pause, a moment of hesitation, which was unlike him. Then, Aemond spoke again, quieter this time. "It has been hours. You should take something, if only to keep your strength."

His words were filled with disinterest despite the meaning of them. He made impossible things possible.

"I don’t want anything." You repeated, more firmly this time.

The door opened with a loud creek, and Aemond just walked inside. You scoffed, annoyed, but you felt too sad to think about him pissing you off.

“Leave me alone!” You groaned on the mattress, clenching your hands into fists. You could hear him moving in the room.

“That puppy of my nephew is what has reduced you in this state?” He asked, scoffing. You turned your head to look at him, and you saw him looking down at a letter in his hands.

Jace’s letter.

You bolted upright on the bed, fury boiling inside you at the sight of Aemond holding Jace’s letter. His tall, imposing figure seemed even more oppressive in the dim light of your room. His one good eye flicked over the page with a mixture of disdain and cold amusement, while the sapphire in his other socket glinted in the low light.

"Give that back!" you demanded, your voice cracking from the tears and frustration, but Aemond made no move to return the letter. He dropped the letter, letting out another scoff.

“You’re a fool.” He said, his rudeness making you red to your ear.

“How dare you talk to me like that?” You exclaimed, indignited.

“He’s a bastard. You’re sweet on a bastard, the son of my whore sister. That’s foolish.”

You felt your blood boil at his words, each syllable a sharp jab to your heart. “You don’t know anything about me! You think you can judge me just because you think you're so much better than everyone else!?”

He stepped closer, towering over you, his expression a mixture of contempt and something unreadable. “I am better than everyone else. I’m surely better than that boy who has no right on the throne he wants to claim so much.”

Your anger flared, but underneath it was a deep sorrow. “He’s more than just a name or a title! Jace has been kind to me, and you—” you pointed an accusing finger at him, “you are the one who brings darkness wherever you go.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, the air crackling with tension. “Kindness won’t save you, and neither will that bastard. This world isn’t built on sentiment. It’s built on strength and blood.”

“Strength?” you spat, incredulous. “Strength that comes from killing boys? That’s your idea of strength?”

He looked unfazed, his expression hardening. “Luke was weak. That’s why he’s dead.”

“You’re twisted.” You hissed. “It brings you pleasure, doesn’t it? Being feared, see people looking away from you –” He pushed you back before you could continue, as he started pulling off the upper structure of his armor.

You stumbled back as you looked up at him, confused and stunned, but he pushed you back again as he took off the lower part of his armor, making you fall back on your bed.

“You want to know what brings me pleasure?” He grabbed your ankle, dragging you down the bed until your butt was almost over it. He pushed the skirts of your dress up, exposing your legs.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You tried to close your legs, or pull down the skirts, but he raised your legs up, then he leaned down to grab both your thighs, spreading them apart, pressing his face against your underwear.

“This.” He mumbled against the thin clothing, his nose pressing against a funny spot against you, that made a strange sound come out of your mouth. “This brings me pleasure.” He growled as he pulled down your underwear along with the stockings. “Teaching stupid ladies their places.” He said as he dived his face back between your thighs, now his mouth pressing on that same spot, sucking and rubbing with his tongue, leaving you breathless for a moment, the pleasure was so high and so good you couldn’t speak.

You couldn’t see him, your skirts were covering the view, but you didn’t really care. Not when it felt this good.

You didn’t think you'd ever felt this good.

The one who was making you feel good, was a Targaryen Prince, a child murdered, the rider of the largest dragon in the world.

You could only squirm, your mind numbed by the pleasure, slowly overcoming all the alarms your brain was sending you, telling you to push the prince away, to not let him touch you in such an appropriate manner.

But then, all so suddenly it stopped, leaving you panting heavily. You saw Aemond raising his head from between your legs, coming into your field of vision.

His chin was wet, his only eye almost completely black as he looked down at you.

His hands moved on your skin, almost gently, caressing your skin as they moved up, your knees, your ankles. He wrapped his fingers around your ankles, securing your legs raised, your feet by each side of his head.

You should have stopped him.

This was improper, it was a sin. A sin you were committing with the worst man in the Seven Kingdoms.

You wanted to move, kick him back, telling him to stop touching you with his filthy, blood-stained hands, but under the dark gaze of his single eye you couldn’t move.

Aemond tightened the grip on your ankles, suddenly pulling you up so your hips lifted from the mattress. Startled, you let out a weak squeak, gripping the sheets tightly as your body moved forward, the back of your thighs landing harshly against him, your core rubbing against a protuberance on his pants, the impact sending another jolt of pleasure through your body.

“Yeah, you like it.” He hummed to himself as he dropped you back on the mattress. He leaned down, his body making space for himself between your legs as his face came to hover yours. “And you want to feel it more, don't you?” He smirked, looking down at you.

You could feel your face burning because of his words, more likely because of the truthfulness of them, because yes, you wanted to feel it again.

“No-” You mumbled as you looked up at him, directly in his eye, trying to sound firm, but he simply chuckled, grabbing your face with his hand, his fingers digging in the soft skin of your cheeks. “Such a liar. No wonder why my sweet bastard-nephew doesn’t want you.”

That stang.

Your eyes immediately filled with tears and anger.

“How dare you?” You hissed as you tried to push him off of you, slapping his chest repeatedly, but he only smiled even more.

“There, there…” He hummed as his hand went back underneath your dress, finding you private again. No matter how much you fought, his body was keeping your legs apart, and he seemed impossible to move.

You only stopped when you felt a strange feeling, something filling you in a way you’ve never felt, that made you gasp out loud. You unconsciously let out a moan, your back arched instinctively, as your body almost contorted as he started moving his finger inside you.

“So easy to shut you up, mh?” He asked as he followed your face to be able to see every expression you made. “So easy to put into place.” He added then in a low voice.

You gritted your teeth together, trying to find in you the force to push him off, to not give him the satisfaction he was showing with that damn smile of his, but you couldn’t. The only sounds that came out of your mouth were whines or soft moans as his finger moved faster inside you, caressing everywhere inside you, and eliciting a pure bliss of pleasure.

“Jace is a fool for leaving you.” He said as he looked at you, your eyes half closed, your head leaned back, your lips apart. He didn’t even look like he realized he said that, it was like he was talking to himself and accidentally said it outloud. You turned your head to look at him, finding his eyes fixed on you, staring in appreciation. “You’re a rare beauty.” He said, his voice low and rough.

You blinked slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. A warmth spread across your chest, but you weren’t sure if it was the pleasure or the way his gaze lingered on you.

No.

You thought to yourself.

Not him.

Please.

But the way he looked at you, like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world was doing something to you. It made your stomach clench, your head dizzier.

You’ve been told countless times by suitors that you were a sight to see, a beauty, but it did nothing if not make you blush or feel appreciated.

With Jace you felt your heart beat so loud you feared it could jump out of your chest.

You too were aware of your beauty, but you never thought of it as a rareness.

But now with Aemond Targaryen, the cold, mean, cruel man, who was doing unspeakable things to you, who looked at you like a Goddess, you truly felt like one.

Aemond’s gaze pierced through you, a silent intensity in his expression that made your breath catch in your throat. You wished you could deny the way his presence and actions were affecting you, wished you could ignore the way his words stirred something deep inside. But the truth was undeniable.

As he slipped his second finger inside your thigh core, you felt it crushing on you. You didn’t know what, but for a moment, you forgot about everything, Jace, the war, Aemond’s sins, your worries, your anger and your sadness, it all vanished by the newfound feeling of ecstasy. You whined louder, making aemond clamp his other hand immediately over your mouth to muffle your sounds as he kept moving your fingers. You looked at him with wide eyes, you didn’t know what had just happened to you, but you wanted to keep feeling it, no matter what cost, you wanted to feel that good again.

He kept pumping his fingers inside you as you saw him starting to move, rub, against your thigh, some hardness pressing and caressing your skin. His brows arched slightly, his eye narrowing slightly as he pressed his hips harder against you, seeking more friction and pressure.

You’ve never seen a man do a face close to that one.

You’ve never seen Aemond make a face like that, and it was beautiful, it was breathtaking, hypnotizing, you felt like watching him all day as he experienced his pleasure.

He didn’t miss the way you seemed affected, obviously. He looked down at you and found you staring at him, his eye darkened even more, his pupil dilating even more if possible as he clenched his jaw.

“You like this?” He looked down at you, moving his hand from your mouth to your neck, gripping it tightly, but not enough to actually cut your air off. You tilted your head back, wrapping your hands on his wrist and arm, gasping as he slipped his fingers out, passing them over your pearl just to see you squirm, his lips moving into a smirk. “No.” He said as he sat up in his haunches between your legs, forcing you to spread them to make room for his body as he started to undo his pants. “You love it.”

You tried to look down, trying to understand what he was doing but he squeezed your throat into a warning, keeping your head in place. “What are you trying to see, uh?” He growled as he pushed his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. “Such a curious menace, always getting into trouble.” He hissed as he leaned over her to look at you from above. “Always sneaking around, making my life harder.” He gritted his teeth. “Making me chase you.” He raised her skirts to your waist as he aligned his cock to your core, wet and warm, hot.

“No – “ You mumbled as you felt the tip pressing on your skin. “Y-you can’t- We’re not married-” You mumbled as you panted, shaking your head. Aemond smiled down at you, his thumb caressing the skin of her neck.

“No one will notice.” He said firmly, pushing slightly, making his tip grace the inside your core, just slightly, enough to hear another moan from you. “Just…” He groaned as he repeated the movement, moving his hips forward as his face contorted in pleasure. “... the tip – Fuck –” He groaned as he started moving his hips, the tip of his cock was being sucked in every time by your cunt, as if it was trying to keep him inside.

It didn’t feel bad.

She did feel like her cunt was being torn apart, but she found the pain mixed to the pleasure extremely pleasing.

It was good.

It was so good.

The pleasure was so overwhelming, so strong, so blissful.

“A-Aemond – “ You bit your lower lip as you arched your back, jerking your hips to find more pleasure as his tip kept slipping out and back in.

Aemond couldn’t tear his eyes off the sight, your core making a wet sound every time he slipped in, your walls forced open to make space for his thick cock, his red tip being welcomed in the warmness of your body, and then the sound of your weak wail every time he pulled back, only enough to be able to push back in.

“Yeah like that –” He growled as he tightened his hand around your neck, his eye still fixed on how your bodies connected, his thrusts regular, calculated and hard.

He was hanging by a thread, and he was showing a great amount of control, just by not slamming his whole long cock inside you, and making you scream in pain and pleasure.

“Grind yourself like a whore –” He snarled as he started rolling his hips faster, the wet sound growing louder along with his pace. “Fuck youre so tight – You’re squeezing me inside - ”

It didn’t bother you the way he called you, the way he spoke. If not, it only aroused you more.

You bit your lower lip harder, and no matter how low you tried to keep your noises, it became impossible as Aemond moved his free hand, using his fingers to circle your pearl, putting just the right amount of pressure. Your back arched violently as you threw your head back, your mouth open in an oval shape, grunts and moans coming out one after another as Aemond tightened his hand around your throat, starting to cut some of your air supplies, your eyes rolled in the back of your head.

It was all so much.

It was all so good.

“Come.” He growled as he finally looked up at you. “Come, before I lose it.” His eye fixed on yours. He looked feral. He looked like a chained animal, that once set free, would have hunted and killed everything in its path. “Come, before absolutely ruin you.”

It wasn’t like you had any control over it, because when the pleasure reached you in such a hard, strong frisson, you could only surrender to it. Your eyes widened, your mouth opened, but Aemond tightened his hand on your throat even more, killing every sound you could have let out. Your eyes watered as your hips jerked, the pleasure washing over you in devastating waves.

He snarled, letting go of your throat, but you barely had the time to take a deep breathe because you felt a stinging pain, barely muffled by the aftershocks of you climax, as Aemond grabbed tightly your hips and harshly pulled to him, making you slip down on the bed and making his cock thrust completely inside you, as he moaned on top of you.

“So fucking tight.” His voice was strained, his breathing heavy, then, you felt a strange sensation of wetness inside you.

You whined as the bliss of pleasure slowly faded away, leaving you in an uncomfortable pain, so you pushed Aemond away, who retrieved with a groan, slipping out of you.

You slowly sat up, looking at him as your mind slowly registered the last moments.

Aemond stood up from the bed, tucking himself inside his pants and starting to put his armor back on.

You didn’t say anything in the meanwhile, you just stared down at the bed covers, where you and Aemond were laying till a few seconds before, committing one of the worst sins ever.

A sin that felt so good.

You snapped out of your moment of trance only when you heard the door slam shut, and a strange smell of burned paper in the air. You moved to the end of the bed, on the floor, there was a piece of paper on fire.

Jace’s letter.

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wosoamazing · 15 hours

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Olympics & Movie Nights

A Love Like This | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Williamson!R

Warnings: mentions of injuries and surgeries, slightly suggestive at end This is a rewrite of the old Kyra Olympics fic. Let me know if you have any request for this new mini series. Only a short one but hope you like it. 800 words

“Mate, stop moving, it’s going to be fine,” Katie laughed as she wrapped her arms around your shoulder, you were sat next to her in the stadium, anxiously waiting for the game against Germany to start, sporting a Matildas Jersey, more specifically the one Kyra had worn when you versed each other at the world cup last year.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me,” you mumbled slightly embarrassed, causing Katie's face to soften.

“She will want to see you, she won’t stop complaining about the fact that everyones be able to see their partners and she hasn’t, I promise, she loves you, she’ll be ecstatic,”

“Who’s Caitlin talking to?” Steph said to Kyra as they walked around the pitch slowly, knowing they were most likely knocked out.

“Katie and her family,” Kyra said, stating the obvious

“No, there is someone else,” Steph said slightly smirking and as quick as Kyra looked over she was sprinting across the pitch towards you. Wrapping her arms around you and placing a quick kiss on your lips as soon as she got to you.

“Hey,” you whispered against her lips as she pulled away.

“What. How,” she puffed out.

“Rehabs been suspended until tomorrow, they have to do an MRI on it, so I decided I’d fly out and come watch you play,” you smiled as she grinned

“Thank you, I love you,”

“I love you too,” you replied as she buried her head in your neck, “I’m sorry it hasn’t gone the way you wanted”

“It’s not your fault, and you surprising me is reward enough” she mumbled, not bothering to move her face from your neck.

“Hey, no tears,” you whispered as you wiped her tears away, “you played amazingly, you had nothing to do with this, it was some really bad choices of tactics, anyone could see that, I promise you it wasn’t your fault, and if someone says something else they’re dumb,” she nodded against your shoulder, as her arms wrapped around you tighter, “and just remember, that no matter what you think about yourself you will always be perfect to me. Let’s have a movie night tomorrow night, I have my MRI when we get back, and before you say anything Leah is taking me,” she nodded as you both settled against each other falling asleep quickly.

You walked into the house, tears dripping down your face, Kyra was quick to stand up and open her arms for you, wrapping them around you tightly as your head dropped to her shoulder. Leah had forewarned Kyra that you were upset, having just found out you needed another surgery on your ankle. You relaxed slightly into her warm embrace, “we’re having a movie night, go get changed into comfy clothes and get comfy on bed, I’ll join you once I get some food,” she murmured against your temple placing a soft kiss there.

“But movie night was meant for you, not me,” you cried softly.

“We both need a movie night, so go get changed,” she said, squeezing you slightly before letting you go.

When she joined you in bed you curled into her side, resting your head on her shoulder, you both settled into the comfort of each other, the glow of the tv illuminating the room as you occasionally fed each other chocolate or chips, not caring about the fact you were meant to be on diets. You both knew you needed to have a conversation about your ankle but that could wait until tomorrow.

“I love you, like so much,” you whispered to her.

“I love you too,” she murmured as she lifted your chin, so she could connect your lips, before her hands dropped to your hips, guiding you to straddle her. You continued to explore each other’s mouths, as her hands slipped under your shirt, sliding up your sides, causing your hips to roll into her as you let out a soft moan.

“Can I-” Leah said as she threw the door open, quickly freezing when she looked up.

“Leah,” you groaned, dropping your head to Kyra’s chest, “can you what? And why are you still here?”

“I’m staying the night I told you that, anyway, can I eat some of the chips,” she asked and you picked your head up to death stare her.

“You seriously interrupted for chips,” “I mean I didn’t know I was interrupting, you’re both oddly quiet,” she shrugged, causing you to collapse back down onto Kyra, “shut up and go away,” you grumbled, sighing as you heard the door shut.

“So is that a yes to the chips?” she shouted through the door.

“Yes, Leah, you can eat the chips,” “Thank you, oh and be careful of the ankle,”

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #awfc x reader #leah williamson x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross imagine #kcc x reader #matildas imagine

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gothgoblinbabe · 3 hours

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Love Game

[Logan Howlett x afab!reader]

Warnings: MDNI/18+ use of she/her, afab reader, swearing, being referred to as a girl, mention of being a stress eater, mild alcohol consumption and mention of alcoholism kinda, jealous!Logan, mild violence, you’re shorter than Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it up), little bit of spitting, sub!logan x kinda dom!reader, voyeurism, use of pet names, I believe that’s it but pls lmk if I missed any! ps. you wear a dress in this but if that don't work for you, imagine its a sick ass tux/ fancy attire you're comfy in

Also non cannon compliant because I know Logan is heavy as shit and his body weight would crush you but just for a minute you’re gonna pretend like it wouldn’t

Summary: essentially [this ask] with plot ! // Scott needs to mind his god damn business, but he might’ve done you a favor by snatching your diary and waving it in Logan's face.

Word Count: 8K

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“That fucking kid.”

You groaned, lifting your mattress and checking underneath and round your bed. You knew Scott was going to snatch your diary the moment you’d realized he overheard you tell Ororo where you kept it. He was always busting your balls the same way he did Logans, even insisting it was a ‘two for one’ deal when he got to bother you at the same time.

Well, he was really gonna regret messing with you this time.

“Summers! I’m going to wring your goddamn neck! Where is it?”

Your voice boomed through the open halls of the mansion as you barreled down the stairs, feet moving faster than your thoughts. Everything echoed in this place; if he was here, you know he heard you.

“Scott!”

You continued to call his name, stomping around until you locked eyes with him as you entered the kitchen. In his hands - to your abject horror - was your diary, spread open while Logan peeked over his shoulder.

Truthfully, Scott was a little scared shitless of the consequences of what he’d done. He’d dealt with Logan back and forth, sure, but you? Terrifying. You had just about the same strength as Logan and about five times his rage. That’s why his eyes grew wide when he saw you, snapping the little book shut.

You could feel your face burning. A diary was private within itself, but there were some things you’d written that were never supposed to be read by another soul; Scott and Logan’s included.

“Fucker,” you grumbled, reaching forward to grab the book from Scott’s hands until Logan snatched it, holding it above your head.

“Ah, not so fast,” he teased.

You’d gotten into plenty of squabbles with Scott, but he was absolutely going to pay for this. He knew the way you felt about Logan and you swore he got some sick satisfaction out of trying to humiliate you. He only found out because he’d overheard you confiding in Jean late one night in the living room with a pint of ice cream in your hands, yapping while you shoveled Ben and Jerrys into your mouth.

Your eyes flickered between his face and Logan’s. If looks could kill, Scott would have dropped dead the second you walked into the kitchen.

“Now what is this,” Logan asked with a lilt in his voice as his eyes scanned a page, “a whole paragraph for little ol’ me?”

Shit.

“I’ll give it back, I promise, but I gotta read this.”

If you tried, you could maybe snatch the thing from his grip before he read too much. You considered jumping on him, piggybacking until he dropped it or handed it over. What lengths would you be willing to go through to keep it a secret anyway? Was it really even a big deal?

You had a crush. Everybody does at some point. A stupid, harmless crush and if this was how he was going to find out, so be it.

You were still absolutely planning on tearing Scott from limb to limb, though.

“Huh,” Logan clicked his tongue, beginning to read from the pages, “No one knows how to piss me off like Logan.”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.

“True,” he commented, “and he spends a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom to do his hair.”

“Also true,” Scott chimed in, becoming the subject of your seething gaze.

“He’d save so much time if he just let me do it for him - like it would be hard to comb it into two cat ears,” he read, looking up to speak to you, “first of all, I told you they’re not cat ears.”

You simply nodded and rolled your eyes.

“Second of all, you couldn’t master ‘em anyway - I’d have to fix it myself.”

You just scoffed, leaning yourself back against the kitchen counter in an attempt to act nonchalant while you tapped one foot uncontrollably. Everything he’d read so far seemed to be the mundane stuff, nothing incriminating just yet.

“God, how I wanna…play with his hair,” he read, eyebrow quirked in confusion.

Ah, there it is.

“That’s, uh - it’s really old, I didn’t mean, like - it’s from years ago,” you tried to blabber out an excuse.

“It’s dated - it’s from a couple months ago.”

You pursed your lips, nearly biting through the flesh at the same time from the pressure. You had to get that book out of his hands.

“He’s so stubborn,” Logan continued to read with a smug grin, holding the book high when you jumped to grab it, “I wish someone would just put him in his place.”

“Ooh,” Scott chuckled, looking to you, “are you gonna be the one to do it?”

“Fuck you, Summers - I’m so gonna get you back for this,” you snarled.

“I don’t think it would take too much for him to keep his mouth shut” Logan started to read again.

You instantly recognized the part he was reading and gasped, frantically reaching again for the book.

“No, no, no, Logan, please - you don’t wanna read th-“

“I’d love to be the one to do it. I wanna take him and -”

He stopped reading and his eyes scanned the rest of the page, his amused smile faltering. You knew exactly what it was he’d read and you wanted to bury yourself alive. You remembered scrawling it down, snickering to yourself as you dragged the gel pen across the paper.

I wanna take him and tie him to my bedpost, probably shove my panties in his mouth and fuck him senseless.That would really shut him up.

Out of all the pages in that goddamn book, that’s the one he had to open up to?

You watched intently as his eyes flashed from yours to the page and then back again.

“What does it say?” Scott questioned, trying to lean over to get a look.

Instead of letting him read it, he snapped it shut and held it out towards you, his face expressionless. Was he mad? Grossed out?

“Don’t worry about it. We shouldn’t be readin’ her private stuff anyway.”

“Uh…,” you hesitated, fingers softly grazing his when you took it back, “thanks.”

You turned on your heel immediately and hastily made your way back to your room. You hoped to hide out there the rest of the day, praying maybe Logan would forget what he’d read or just let it be. You knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t.

You knew him so well because you were like mirrors of each other; smart mouthed and hot headed. You realized that the first couple months with the X-men, always butting heads with him until one mission where you had to grab the back of his jacket in an attempt to keep him where he was. You tugged with so much force that you nearly knocked him on his ass. Even Hank had never been bold enough to do that, not when Logan was as riled up as could be. From that point on, it was kind of an unspoken assumption that you would always be the one who calmed him down or held him back. So, you did just that; grabbing his wrist with both hands to force him to keep his claws to himself or pushing back against him when he tried to lunge at Scott for something stupid - though, after what he just pulled, you may just let Logan rip him apart next time. Though it was never acknowledged between the two of you, you were his anchor. You held him down when he began to drift away. Fortunately for you, he did the same - using minimal effort to keep you in place when you tried to go for someone’s face or going as far as to hike you over his shoulder and carry you away from the confrontation, all while you kicked and screamed to be let down.

You avoided him the best you could for two days after the incident in the kitchen, quick comments in passing but never staying long enough for a full conversation out of fear that he’d bring up what he read. What were you supposed to say, anyway? ‘Sorry I thought about fucking you?’

You’d have to think of something because you were face to face in training a few days later. Scott stood to the side of you both, a stopwatch in his hand.

“Alright, when I say go, whoever pins the other down for more than five seconds wins. Remember, you're each trying to beat your time from the last session.”

Scott’s voice almost sounded underwater. Your eyes were locked with Logan’s and though you wanted to rip your gaze away, you couldn’t.

“Ready? And…go!”

He backed out of the way and you tried to lunge at Logan, quickly being flipped onto your back.

“Okay, ow,” you whispered to yourself, immediately standing back up.

He tried to grab you when you stood but you caught his hand, twisting his arm behind his back to force him to the ground. You straddled his back and kept your weight on him but he was too quick, turning over and pushing you off him.

“Don’t get too excited, now,” he panted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You were caught off by the low cadence of his voice, inadvertently letting your guard down and giving him an opportunity to pin your arms above your head and keep your legs down with the weight of his knee. Scott began to count down and you racked your brain for a way to get yourself out from underneath him.

You were able to pull one of your legs free, sending him a little off balance and using your leg on the side of his torso to roll him over on his back again. You straddled his waist, using your hands and your forearms to hold his down. That, however, left you nose to nose while panting for air.

“What, you thought I’d let you win?” You asked, tongue poking at the corner of your open mouth. It was usual for you to tease each other with little snide comments. Nothing any different from the usual, right?

“Nah, I just really like havin’ you on top.”

Nope, definitely different.

You didn’t even hear Scott call time on your match at first.

“Hey! Lovebirds! I said you can get off each other. Jesus,” he groaned. You finally remembered where you were and quickly scrambled off of Logan.

“Aw, really? It was just gettin’ good,” he chuckled. You could feel his eyes on you as you gathered your belongings with your back turned. You tried to step out into the hallway, praying he wouldn’t catch you before you met the elevator doors - of course, you weren’t that lucky.

“Hey, hey - princess, wait up,” you heard him call after you and you stopped, turning on your heel with an irritated expression.

“About the other day, the thing you wrote - “

You sighed, rubbing your face in distress and cutting him off before he could finish.

“Listen, Logan,” you quickly looked around the corridor to make sure you were alone, “I know what you read, I don’t wanna talk about it. It - look, it was some stupid phase where I had a crush and it’s over, okay?”

He tilted his head. You hoped he would simply nod and move on, but you watched his lips curl into a smile instead.

“Aw, what happened - you changed your mind?”

You knew him well enough to understand the look on his face. He was never gonna let this go - in fact, he was probably going to nearly torture you over it.

“Shut up,” you huffed and continued to walk away, keeping your stare straight ahead.

“Aw, pretty girl -“

You dropped your belongings to the floor with an audible thud and gathered the front of Logan’s t-shirt in your fists, tugging him down to your height so you were face to face.

“First of all, I told you not to call me that - ‘princess’, ’pretty girl’ - like I’m one of your little girlfriends. Okay, kitty cat?” you scolded through gritted teeth. He hated being called that and you knew it.

His eyebrows were raised and his lips parted in surprise.

“And second of all,” you continued with a deep breath, “you read it, it’s done - leave it be, would you? It doesn’t mean anything.”

You still had his shirt in your tight grip.

“Alright, alright - I’m just teasing,” he admitted, trying to pry your fingers from his t-shirt, “and I’m sorry, I never should’ve been reading it in the first place.”

You sighed and finally let him go.

“Fine, I forgive you. And you can’t ever tell anyone what you read. Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“So, we’re cool again? Nothings weird?”

“Not unless you make it weird.”

“You were the one flirting with me.”

“Uh - was not. I was simply creating a distraction to throw you off guard and it worked.”

“I’ll get you back.”

“Sure, you will.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You and Logan were in forced proximity hours later, standing with Scott, Jean and Ororo in Charles’ office.

“Do we really have to go?” Logan groaned, hanging his head back in frustration.

You were staring at the thick paper invite atop Charles’ desk. All your names were scrawled in cursive, surrounded by small gold detailing with the event written on top. It was some kind of Gala, something for charity that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were standing.

“It would be a wonderful opportunity to represent the school, yourselves and the mutant population as a whole,” Charles answered.

“You really think wolvie and his little hothead wrangler are gonna be well behaved enough to not make a scene?” Scott gestured towards you both.

Logan stepped towards him and you instinctively grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to hold him back. He looked back at you, clearly annoyed.

“We’ll be fine,” you insisted while glaring daggers in Scott’s direction.

You didn’t notice that you were still holding the sleeve of Logan’s jacket when Charles dismissed you. You let go and cleared your throat as you followed him out of the room.

“There's no way in hell I'm wearing a suit,” he grumbled, looking down at his flannel and jeans.

“You don’t wanna play dress up?” You teased.

“And look like a stuck up prick? No.”

“I'm kind of excited to wear something nice for once,” you admitted, “I’ve got a couple nice dresses I’ve never even worn. Besides, maybe there’s gonna be a couple of hot, rich guys there.”

You were looking straight ahead as you walked side by side down the hall, smiling to yourself. If you had turned your head, you would have seen the way Logan rolled his eyes.

“What, you’re gonna go home with some rich schmuck just ‘cause he’s got money?”

He sounded almost annoyed. You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged.

“I don’t know, if he’s good looking, maybe.”

That was only a little truthful. You were not the type of person who was comfortable enough to go back to a stranger's place or hook up with someone you’d never see again. But maybe you could, if it would keep your mind off Logan and convince him to forget about what he’d read a few days ago. And if the guy did have money? It certainly wouldn’t be a problem for you.

“Oh,” Ororo piped up from behind you, stretching out the vowel, “I see - you’re going shopping. Gotta try before you buy, huh?”

She playfully poked your side and you chuckled, swatting her hand away.

“Call it what you want,” you responded, “but I’m gonna have fun, at the very least.”

You would end up having fun - just in a much different way than you expected.

You decided on getting ready for the night in Ororo’s room when the time came a few weeks later. She was touching up her makeup at her vanity while you changed behind the bathroom door.

“Does it fit?” She asked through the wood with her eyes still on her reflection.

You were attempting to zip the back of your dress with your arm stretched uncomfortably over your shoulder.

“In a way? Kind of.”

Jean entered the room just then, having already gotten ready in her and Scott’s room.

“She’s trying on a dress that’s been in her closet since last year that still had tags,” Ororo explained to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Can one of you zip me up, though?” you sighed in defeat and opened the door, “I can’t get it.”

“Woah, mama!” Ororo comically wolf whistled and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

The dress was your favorite out of your collection of unworn clothing; it showed the perfect amount of skin and hugged your figure phenomenally. To top it off, the color complemented your skin in the best way possible.

“I don’t look silly? I feel a little funny getting all dolled up,” you confessed, turning around so Jean could pull your zipper up the rest of the way.

“Definitely not silly,” Jean reassured you but mumbled under her breath after, “Logan’s gonna lose it.”

You turned back around to quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Who cares what he thinks? Did I say I care what he thinks? ‘Cause I don’t. Like, at all.”

“Honey,” Ororo began, “we already know you like him, remember?”

You groaned and bent down to look into the mirror on her vanity.

“I don’t - not anymore, at least.”

“Yeah, right,” Joan giggled, “keep telling yourself that.”

Ororo looked at the time on her watch and hastily stood to slip on her shoes, “We’re gonna be late if we don’t leave soon. Logan and Scott are supposed to meet us downstairs.”

You stepped into your shoes and grabbed the little bag you’d carry for the night, following her and Jean out the door. When you finally got to the staircase, you could see Scott and Logan talking to each other at the bottom, the latter of the two standing with his back facing the stairs.

“All right, ready!” Jean enthusiastically announced. If she hadn’t said anything, the simultaneous clicking of your shoes would’ve announced your presence for you.

Logan turned around to face you. At that moment, he wondered why he ever complained about going in the first place. His eyes were glued to you as you came down the stairs and you could feel yourself start to get warmer.

He looked so good in a tux, Jesus Christ. You liked when he wore those tight fitting tanks and jeans, sure, but something about the formal attire really did it for you. His cologne wafting into your space when you stood next to him didn’t do much to help dispel any feelings you had, either. How badly you wanted to just forget the stupid event, tug him into your bedroom upstairs and show him that you were so not kidding about what you’d scribbled in your diary. Alas, that was certainly not going to happen.

‘Just an old crush,’ you internally tried to remind yourself, ‘just an old crush - that’s it. I’m not into him anymore.’

Except that you knew damn well it was a lie.

“We’re gonna be late if we stand here any longer, c’mon,” Scott began walking with Jean while you, Logan and Ororo followed.

“You look nice,” Logan finally spoke as you made it to the door, “think you’ll bag any of those rich guys?”

You almost asked what he was talking about, too lost in thinking about how you actually wanted to bag him and not some stranger.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, “but if I do, you’ll be the last to find out.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Got that right.”

You eventually found yourself in a large, decorated open room, sat in the corner with Logan while he nursed a glass of whiskey and you anxiously scarfed down appetizers. The rest of the team had walked off to mingle - like normal people do.

“Kid, you’re gonna choke if you keep eatin’ that fast,” he warned you.

“ ‘m a stress eater,” you explained with a mouthful of fancy cheese, “besides, you’re a stress drinker. Thank god there’s so many tiny foods.”

He scoffed and took a sip of his drink.

“What are you even stressed about, anyway? Half your job tonight is to just stand there and look pretty and you’ve already got that down.”

“Thank you, I think?” your eyes nervously scanned the room, “I just hate being in a crowded place, especially one this big that’s full of complete strangers.”

“Why do you think I’m holdin’ a glass right now?”

Your eyes flickered between his and the half full glass in his hand. You wordlessly took it from his fingers before he even had time to react and downed the contents in one gulp.

“Well, that’s one way to calm your nerves,” he commented, “but if you keep drinkin’ like that, you’re gonna be face first on the ground before the nights even started.”

You were still holding a grimace from the burn of the alcohol but shook your head and cleared your throat, “I just needed the kick in the ass - I’m good.”

“So, you’re gonna go socialize? Good luck,” he raised his eyebrows, “something tells me these people aren’t really who we want to be hanging out with.”

“Why, because they have an immense amount of cash to burn and we don’t? You can’t hate people just because they have money, Logan.”

“Then how am I doin’ it right now?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I think there’s gotta be a few genuinely good people out there who just happen to be rich.”

“Uh-huh, and I think two plus two is five - it doesn’t make me right.”

“You know what? I’m going to prove you wrong,” you said smugly, standing up from the table.

“I think you’ll prove me right.”

“You wanna bet?”

“It’s a deal.”

“What are we betting, exactly?”

“How ‘bout this - if either of us can find someone here we actually want to go home with, you win. If we don’t, I win.”

“Fine,” you narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms, “what does the winner get?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “we can figure it out later.”

With that, you both dispersed. You were still feeling uncomfortable but that wasn’t going to go away unless you did something about it. Do you just go up and talk to someone? What do you say?

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind you and you turned around, only to be face to face with a cute guy in a tux.

“Oh, so they come up to you,” you thought immediately.

“Uh, I don’t mean to be forward with you, but you look very beautiful,” he said politely, a charming smile on his face, “I saw you when you walked in and wanted to say something, I just wasn’t sure if you came with someone.”

You took a second to respond, still processing the fact that he even came up to you.

“Oh, thanks,” you finally replied, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

You tried to use humor to dispel the awkwardness - the type of awkwardness you feel when you get asked to go to a school dance in the seventh grade - but this guy was cute. If you just got to know him a bit, the mild discomfort would probably pass.

“I didn’t come here with anyone, by the way,” you added, “Well, I mean, I did but not in that way - I’m with friends.”

“That’s good to know,” he said, grinning, “in that case, would you wanna dance with me?”

You hadn’t even asked each other your names, and you didn’t really care.

You nodded and let him take your hand, “I have to warn you, though - I’m no dancer.”

“Well, do I look like one? ‘Cause I’m certainly not, either. But when there’s a beautiful woman in the room that you really wanna talk to, you’ve got to think of a reason to go up and talk to her.”

“I don’t know - I think you just might be a bit of a smooth talker.”

He was and it was definitely working. He clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t make me blush.”

He was funny, too. All you had to do was find out a little more about him - for the sake of the bet, yes, but also to determine the probability of breaking his bed frame later if it all went well.

So, you let him rest his arms around your waist and you put your hands on his shoulders. It was kind of nice to have someone so close. You started to feel mildly uncomfortable, though, as if someone was staring at you. You ignored it anyway, deciding it was just the anxiety of being in a place with a lot of people.

Really, it was Logan standing across the room with his stare glued to you two. He looked like he wanted to bore a hole into the poor guy's skull. When you finally caught sight of him, he turned and seemingly disappeared.

You spent a bit of time with your new date, intending to subtilely interrogate him to find out if he fit the criteria for your bet with Logan. Even if he didn’t? You might let him take you home anyway.

You sat with him at an abandoned table, leaning your head on your hand as you half - listened to him talk about stocks. You glanced around the room and spotted Logan again almost immediately.

He was leaning against the wall with a girl hanging from his arm. She was talking away and he looked completely disinterested. The whole point of coming was to distract yourself from anything to do with him and there you were, ignoring your date to silently seethe at a girl who was only in his vicinity.

You tried to zone back in on the conversation and really pay attention when he started to talk about his job. It was some tech company you’d heard of, a big name in the industry.

“Oh, so, what do you do there?”

“Well, I own it.”

You squinted and sat up straight.

“You own the company.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

He nodded and you raised your eyebrows. This was going much better than you anticipated. You couldn’t help but glance over at Logan to see that girl still standing with him. She was twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. She was undeniably pretty, so you wondered why he wasn’t even looking at her while she hung all over him.

“Hey, would you wanna dance with me again? I know it’s a little slow paced, but I love this song.”

You returned your attention to the man in front of you and smiled as politely as possible.

“You know what? Sure, why not.”

You let him lead you into the middle of the room and rest his hands on your hips. He pulled you much closer than you’d been standing before, so much so that you were nearly stepping on his shoes. His hands slid down further and you laughed a little to yourself. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? So you wondered why it didn’t feel like something you wanted at all.

You caught Ororo’s gaze from across the room and she smiled, flashing you a thumbs up. When you caught Logan’s gaze, he was anything but smiling. There was a reason you felt like all this was something you didn’t want - you knew you wished it was him you were standing with. Still, you weren’t sure of why he wouldn’t tear his eyes from you or why he had such a scowl on his face.

You stopped staring back when your date planted a kiss on your forehead.

“What was that for?”

“Well, I kinda wanted to kiss you but I figured maybe goin’ right for the lips might have been too much.”

“We don’t even know each other's names.”

“Do we have to?”

You thought hard for a moment, wondering if Logan was still watching. It wasn’t fair to kiss someone just to try to make another person jealous, you knew that. He didn’t even have a reason to be jealous.

“You can kiss me.”

He was an alright kisser - nothing exciting. His lips were soft, though, and you liked the smell of his cologne. Before you could deepen the kiss any further, he was tugged backwards and off of you.

Logan had the back of the poor guy's jacket in his fists, nearly yanking him down to the floor with how much force he used.

“Alright, bub,” he grunted, “I think that's enough, she’s leavin’.”

You glared daggers at him with your lips parted in surprise.

“I can leave when I want to,” you said through gritted teeth, “what the hell is your problem?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” your date asked, nervously looking between you both.

“He’s n-” you began to answer and Logan cut you off as he grabbed your arm.

“Yeah. Get lost.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in anger but could feel your face becoming warm. You weren’t totally sure if you were turning pink from how enraged you were with Logan or from the words that just came out of his mouth.

“Outside. Now,” you demanded, tugging your arm from his grip.

You turned to walk away and he followed as you grumbled to him, holding your dress up a bit so you wouldn’t trip as you stomped out.

‘What the fuck was that?”

He didn’t answer, simply following at your heels with his eyes on the marble floor of the corridor. You swung open the door and stepped into the cool summer evening air, waiting until the door shut behind you to speak again.

“What, you didn’t want me to win the bet?” you guessed with raised eyebrows.

“You’re really gonna let some guy you don’t know shove his tongue in your mouth?”

You stood in stunned silence for a moment.

“Are you kidding? How is that any of your business?”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna let some asshole be all over you just ‘cause he's got money.”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, “why do you care?”

“Why don’t you? Seriously, you’d just go home with some guy and fuck him?”

“I don’t - I don’t know,” you stuttered, “maybe, but that was part of that stupid bet! Not that it’s any of your concern!”

You were nearly shouting at each other.

He clicked his tongue and spoke in a sour tone, “none of my concern, sure. I didn’t think you’d actually try and go home with someone -”

“Okay, you know what?” you threw your hands up in frustration, “I don’t know what the hell your problem is or why you’re acting like some jealous boyfriend, but fucking cut it out!”

You were both finally quiet for a moment. The sound of cicadas and crickets songs filled the silence. Logan’s face was pleading, his features highlighted by the soft golden yellow light seeping through the building’s windows.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he mumbled under his breath, his arms crossed over his chest.

You raised your eyebrows, “get what?”

You sounded exasperated, sick of playing what felt like the worst game of twenty questions ever.

Logan brought a hand to his face, scratching at his facial hair - something you recognized as a nervous habit.

“That stupid fuckin’ notebook, the little one you write in,” he groaned, “I just wish I never read it.”

“So, you’re mad about that?” You asked, clearly still confused as to what he was trying to say, “listen, I’m sorry, it wasn’t -“

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” he interrupted, “it’s - fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know, It's like I read that damn thing and lost my mind.”

You waited for him to elaborate, a puzzled expression still plastered on your face.

“It’s all I can think about, all the time - it's like I close my eyes and I can still see it written down in your chicken scratch. I don’t even know what to do, It’s so stupid,” he huffed.

You still didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you or whether he was talking to you or himself.

“And then - I don’t know, alright - you look so…” he groaned with his face in his hands, “I like you - is that enough? Ya’ get it? I liked you for awhile and then Scott had to go peekin’ through shit that wasn’t his and reading that shit you wrote just made it even worse for me. I’m supposed to read that you wanna ‘fuck me senseless’ and just let it go? You thought that wasn’t gonna do something to me?”

You were slack jawed, feeling like your legs were going to give out from under you.

He seemed angry, his nostrils flaring while he held a frown.

“So…you -“

His hands cupped your face and he leaned down close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your skin.

“So, I want you to fuck me like you said you wanted to.”

Your eyes grew so wide that you feared they might pop out of your head.

“Would you, if I asked?” He continued in a low voice.

Your stomach erupted in butterflies and you nodded without hesitation. Conversations like this with Logan had only ever happened in your dreams.

His lips finally connecting with yours made your head spin. If he wasn’t tenderly holding your face, you might’ve just let yourself fall to the ground.

“I’ve been thinking about you for months, you know,” he admitted when he pulled away, “watchin’ when you walk away, thinking about how you say my name, wishing I could just tell ya’ - I didn’t have the nerve. Seein’ you with another guy, though - I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I could and I just can't.”

You almost expected to hear the beeping of your alarm clock that would startle you awake in your bedroom. Still, it never came. You could feel his hot breath on your face, the breeze on your skin, the warmth of his hands; it was all too real.

“You mean it? All of it?”

You didn’t know why your voice sounded so desperate, almost pleading with him not to toy with you.

“ ‘course I do. Of course, I mean - god, look at you.”

His mouth was on yours again and you smiled against his lips, your cheeks tinted pink.

“Hey, wait,” you pulled away momentarily, “why did you agree to that bet in the first place, then?”

He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously.

“I kinda figured you wouldn’t be able to find someone good enough, I don’t know - maybe I could convince you to come back with me instead.”

“That was your plan?” you let out a small laugh, smiling so wide that your face began to ache.

“Well, It might’ve worked if you hadn’t met what’s-his-face in there.”

“I don’t know his name,” you shrugged, “didn’t care to ask.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“I let him kiss me because I wanted to make you jealous,” you admitted, “I still like you.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

His expression was as smug as could be.

“That you still like me? Yeah.”

“How? Am I that obvious?”

“It’s not your fault,” he shrugged and lowered his voice to a whisper as he put his lips to your ear, “I could smell how wet you’ve been all night.”

You swallowed hard and shivered when his hand slid up your back.

“And it worked, by the way - I’m jealous.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded and leaned his forehead against yours.

“Well,” you affectionately scratched at the hair at the back of his head, “are you gonna do something about it, then?”

He kissed you with much more fever than before and you caught his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth. His hands were in your hair to push you even further into him to the point he was practically hunched over your body. When you finally took a second to catch your breath, you had a realization.

“I won the bet.”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Please tell me you don’t mean you’re actually still gonna go home with that guy.”

“No,” you rolled your eyes and let out an amused scoff, “I meant you, Logan.”

“Me,” he repeated with a beaming smile, “you’re coming home with me.”

You nodded and giggled, absentmindedly fixing the hair hanging in front of his forehead.

He was staring into your eyes in a way that had you feeling as though there was nothing else around you - no fancy party inside, no responsibility to socialize - just you and Logan in the cool light of the moon. He was studying your face like he’d never see it again if he turned away.

“What if I couldn’t wait till we got home?” He asked quietly. His warm breath just barely grazed your lips.

Your eyes widened and you thought for a moment, looking between him and the door beside you.

“C’mere,” you instructed simply, taking him by his hand and leading him inside to walk down the main hallway. You scanned the area and once you were sure no one would see either of you, you began trying knobs of different doors to see if one would open. When one finally gave, you slipped inside with Logan in toe and flicked on the lights. It was a small dusty office, one that probably hadn’t been used in a few months at the very least.

Neither of you wasted any time in taking advantage of your newfound isolation. Logan was kissing you like he was starving to taste you, working his way down your neck with an open mouth to leave darkening spots slick with his saliva.

“Logan,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed momentarily from the way he was nipping and sucking at your skin.

“I love when you say my name,” he admitted, mumbling into your neck. His hands were everywhere - tangled in your hair, resting on your waist, your hips, your ass - he was desperate to keep his hands on you now that he had you.

You disconnected your lips for a moment so you could hop back to sit up on the top of the desk behind you. You hiked the skirt of your dress above your knees to avoid ripping it and motioned for him to stand between your knees as you held the middle of the skirt down with one hand.

“I’ve got an idea for my reward for winning the bet,” you smiled mischievously, leaning up to hold his chin and force him to look you in the eye, “what do you say, pretty boy? You wanna be part of it?”

He nodded eagerly and the pace of his breathing increased significantly.

“Good,” you leaned back on one hand, using the other to tug at Logan’s suit jacket, “off.”

He obeyed without hesitation and shrugged the garment off his shoulders. He began to untuck his shirt and you stopped him with a gentle touch.

“Did I say to take that off too, sweetheart? I don’t think I did,” you spoke softly in a firm tone.

“No - no, ma’am.”

It drove you crazy to have him under your thumb in that way, his usual domineering nature and dominance melting away by the second.

“So do as you're told, baby,” you instructed, “if you’re good for me, maybe I’ll reward you back.”

You could see him swallow hard, eyelids nearly fluttering closed when he thought of all the possibilities of what that might entail.

“F- mhm, fuck,” he stuttered when you brought a hand to the front of his pants and barely grazed the spot below the button with your fingertips. He began to twitch more and more with every touch.

“Are you gonna say yes?” your voice was near taunting, “or do I have to try a little more convincing?”

You popped the button on the front of his pants with ease and slid your hand underneath to feel him over the soft fabric of his underwear.

“Yeah, yes, I - ah, yeah,” he moaned in response, rocking his hips towards your hand and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled and gently kissed his temple.There was something so lovably vulnerable about the way he was acting with you. You knew he’d never let another soul find out that he loved what you did to him - dreaming of you whispering affectionate nicknames and praise as he sloppily pounded into you or spending hours on his sore knees just so he could feel you cum on his face - but the intensity of his devotion bordered otherworldly.

“Do me a favor, baby,” you started, lifting your hips for a second to drag your panties down your legs, “take out your pretty cock for me.”

He obeyed, tugging his pants down his thighs just enough for his already hard dick to spring up out of the confines of his briefs. You inadvertently licked your lips at the sight, thinking of how heavenly he’d feel in you. He was huge, but for a guy who’s six foot two, it wasn’t a surprise.

He stood expectantly between your legs with his hands on your thighs. You leaned back on both hands, cocking your head to the side as you spoke.

“Touch yourself first and maybe I’ll let you touch me.”

The ‘maybe’ was a bluff. He knew as well as you did that you’d let him touch you regardless.

“Gimme your hand,” you ordered before he could even wrap his fingers around himself. You leaned your mouth over the palm of his hand and spat.

He groaned from the gesture alone, knees nearly buckling when he finally brought his hand down to coat his cock in your saliva.

“Feels good?” You cooed, eyes flickering from his face to his leaking cock in his fist.

“Mm - mhm, yeah, ‘s good,” he panted, “really fucking good.”

You failed an attempt to hide your wide smile, hypnotized by the repeated motion of his hand. He looked so pretty like this - his jaw hung open, chest heaving while his face became more flushed with every passing second. You could feel the rush of heat in your lower stomach just from watching him.

You couldn’t help yourself from leaning forward a little and unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, all while he watched you intently, his breathing becoming heavier the closer your hand came to his.

“Think of you all the time when I do this at home,” he panted, “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The compliment made your heart swell; it was a sweet remark that so greatly contrasted the obscene speed of his hand as he stroked himself.

“You’re such a pretty boy,” you whispered and planted a kiss on his pink cheek, “you look amazing.”

You caught the way the motion of his hand slowed and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching forward and wrapping your fingers around his cock. He growled, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t work yourself up so soon, kitty cat, or you’re gonna be finished before I even get to fuck you,” you murmured into his ear and he gasped as you started to pump him.

“Don’t - ah - don’t call me that,” he whimpered.

“Aw, you don’t like it, my pretty kitty?”

He growled again, even more animalistically , but his hips jerking into your hand told you he really didn’t hate that nickname as much as he told you he did.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” you continued to tease, “I know you like it - you love bein’ my big, pretty kitty.”

He groaned, lifting his head from your shoulder and crashing his lips into yours.

“Sh-shut up,” he managed to grunt.

You immediately withdrew your hand and sat back again.

He whimpered from the loss of contact and looked at you with pleading eyes, silently asking why you stopped.

“I said you had to be good for me, didn’t I?” you asked.

He nodded, eyes traveling from your thighs, up your body and then back down again.

“Good boys don’t talk back,” you said simply, raising your eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, I’ll - I’m good, I’ll behave, just please -“

His speech was cut short when you hiked your dress up even further to expose your bare, wet pussy.

“Fucking Christ,” he moaned.

You tugged the top of your dress down to expose your chest and he had to grip the desk you were sitting on so his legs wouldn’t give out from under him.

“If you can be real quiet,” you pushed some fallen hair out of his face, “I’ll let you cum in me. You want that?”

“Please, ‘v been thinking of that for fucking weeks,” he begged, “please, please, baby.”

He tentatively cupped one of your breasts and you rested your hand atop his, encouraging him to squeeze and knead however he pleased. You spurred him on to the point that he couldn’t resist leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking while his fingers toyed with the other one.

You couldn’t help whining from the sensation of his mouth on you while you combed your fingers through his hair.

He finally detached himself after ravishing your chest in wet kisses and left a string of saliva connecting his tongue to your nipple. You giggled a little to yourself and crashed your lips into his again in a heated mess of tongues and teeth. You scooted your hips up on the table and used your grip on his cock to graze his tip up against you, making him shudder.

“You’re so - fuck, you’re such a fuckin’ tease,” he gasped and held your hips in an iron grip.

“What’d I say about back talk?” you moved the head of his cock further away from you.

He groaned in frustration, moving his hands to hold your face, “Honey, I’m already beggin’ - please, I need you.”

The desperation in his voice made you even wetter.

“I guess you’ve been pretty good for me - do you think you deserve it?”

He nodded eagerly and placed his hand over yours that was around him. You let him nudge your hand away to align himself with your entrance. His eyes bore into yours as he finally began to push himself into you, rocking his hips slowly to help you adjust to his size. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist. When he fully sheathed himself inside of you, he let out a loud moan that echoed through the small space.

“I told you to be quiet, sweetheart,” you whispered into his ear.

“Uh-huh, ‘s a lil’ hard when I’m fuckin’ a girl I’ve been dreamin’ about for months,” he mumbled, working up a steady pace while you wrapped your legs around him and locked your ankles at the small of his back to help push him further into you.

“You feel so good, Logan,” you moaned, kissing down his jaw and throat.

He groaned at full volume again.

“Are you gonna stay quiet? or do I have to shut you up? Hm?” you grinned and he made an even louder noise. You reached behind you to find your panties and folded them into a ball, holding his jaw with your other hand.

“Open.”

He obeyed immediately, rolling his eyes into the back of his head when you stuffed them into his open mouth.

“Good kitty.”

He let out a muffled growl and the speed of his hips increased.

“Yeah,” you panted, “I know you like that.”

The angle at which he was fucking you made it so that he was hitting the sensitive spot inside of you over and over again, making you gasp each time. Sweat was forming on his neck and down both your chests, practically sticking your skin together in the hot, stuffy room.

“You’re - you’re so pretty,” you told him truthfully, admiring the rosey tint of his face and the droll that was starting to run down from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed and he started to thrust into you hard enough to shake the desk you were sitting on.

“Easy, kitty cat - you’re gonna break somethin’,” you muttered into the hot skin of his neck with a smug smile on your face.

His pace didn’t falter in the slightest, his hands gripping your ass to push you towards him every time he slammed his hips forward. The fabric of your panties muffled the guttural moan he choked on when you lightly sunk your teeth into his shoulder. He slid his hand between your bodies to bring his thumb to your clit, working tight circles around the bundle of nerves in rhythm with the thrust of his hips.

“Fuck, fuck, I-“ you were speechless, at a loss for words from the brutal combination of the pressure he applied with his fingers and the way he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you. His eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, still whining and growling like an animal into the fabric of your underwear. You felt the heat in your lower stomach start to build and you buried your face in his shoulder, your mascara smudged under your eyes.

“Logan, Logan, I’m - ah - ‘m gonna come,” you warned, tugging on the back of his hair.

He groaned and yanked the fabric out of his mouth, immediately bringing his lips to yours so he could tenderly make out with you while the squelching sound of your dripping cunt filled the room.

“C’mon,” he growled into your mouth, “c’mon, baby, please.”

Both your chins were slick with each other's saliva from the frantic way you’d smashed your lips together. Your whining and pleading became louder with every roll of his hips until the sensation sent you over the edge, euphoria blossoming from your lower stomach and spreading all throughout your body.

“Oh my god, Logan,” you nearly yelled, your hands slipping under his open shirt to scratch down his back, “s-so good. I love you.”

The three words slipped out without hesitation and your eyes widened, mild humiliation replacing the fading feeling of your orgasm.

His hips rutted against yours when you spoke and he leaned his face down so he was nose to nose with you.

“Love you so much.”

He kissed you softly with both his hands on your cheeks, so filled with affection that you could’ve cried. He slid his hands down back to your hips and kept his forehead against yours as he continued to drill into you.

“I don’t - I don’t ever wanna see ya’ with anybody else,” he panted, “I needed ya’ so bad. You - ah - ya’ drive me crazy.”

Even after having already came, his pussy-drunk rambling still spawned butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“You’ll never see me with someone else, baby - promise. ‘s always been you. Only ever really wanted you,” you admitted with a soft voice.

His thrusts became sloppy and you could tell that spurring him on with your words would make him finish just as quickly as you did.

“I’m yours, always have been,” you whispered in his ear, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about fucking me like this.”

He choked out a sob into your shoulder and came with an animalistic growl, looking down to watch the mess being made all over your inner thighs.

“Love you so fucking much,” he repeated with a sigh, slowly stopping the thrust of his hips and resting his head against yours again.

“I love you, too,” you replied and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Sorry I made such a mess of ya’,” he apologized, spreading your thighs as he pulled out, “I’ll clean ya’ up when we’re home, I swear.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, readjusting your dress and slipping your underwear back on while Logan tucked himself back into his pants and buttoned his shirt.

You caught a glimpse of the watch on his wrist as he moved and grabbed his hand so you could see the time.

“Shit! We were supposed to meet everyone back out front ten minutes ago,” you realized aloud, slipping yourself off the desk and pulling your dress down.

He mirrored your haste and let you fix his hair, doing the same for you and wiping away the mascara under your eyes.

“Okay, okay, c’mon,” you insisted, opening the door and slipping out hand in hand. You scurried down the abandoned corridor and all the way to the front exit. When Logan pushed open the door, you were met with Jean, Scott, and Ororo standing with worried expressions.

“What happened to you guys?” Scott asked before Jean nudged him in the arm, pointing towards your intertwined hands.

You looked towards where she was pointing and back up again, “Oh, uh…”

You tried to think of an excuse and looked to Logan beside you for help.

“Nothin’,” he said in a nonchalant manner, “just got lost around the place - lot’s of rooms in there.”

Ororo raised her eyebrows suspiciously.

“Sure, and, uh - Is that why you’re holding hands?”

You laughed a little, tugging his hand behind your back.

“Well,” you started, “remember I said I’d try to bag a guy tonight? Um-”

“I’ve been bagged,” Logan interrupted with a huge, smug grin.

“I wasn’t gonna put it like that,” you insisted, “but - yeah.”

“Finally,” Jean huffed and rolled her eyes, “I thought we’d have to have an intervention.”

“Huh?” Logan narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, c’mon,” Ororo laughed, “we all knew you liked each other, even before you did.”

“And you never said anything?” Logan asked.

“Neither of you ever believed us!”

“True,” you agreed with a shrug and giggle.

“I believe you now,” he stated, still holding your hand as you all made your way into the night, “She might like me. Just a little bit.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

A/N: Thank you so much if you read till the end :) !! I did get stuck with some writers block in the middle of this and I'm not completely fulfilled w it but if I kept working on it it may take another week and my brain can't do it

Still working on requests rn so if you sent one in, I haven't forgotten about you!!! I'm trying to do two at a time so I can keep up (I won't burn myself out dw I usually do nothing all day till I work in the afternoon) <3

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fic #logan howlet smut #logan wolverine #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine fic #wolverine smut #deadpool and wolverine

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sungstars · 1 day

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love game | kjw x fem! reader

synopsis: you and your boyfriend love playing an interesting game at parties, but he couldn't let you win.

word count: 1.4k (not proof read sawri)

content warning: established relationships, infidelity(sort of), yn is a bit unhinged(you'll see), jungwon is down bad and also unhinged, fingering, idols added for world building, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of edging

author’s note: i wrote this based off of this request! this was heavily inspired by the beginning of season 3's chuck & blair's relationship in gossip girl. i hope that you all enjoy and again, requests are open! i really tried my best on this without making it too long.

"have you seen jungwon anywhere?" you exhaled, already irritable that your boyfriend left you pretty much as the two of you got to this house party you didn't even want to attend, shooting a glare the boy in front of you, jake.

jake looked around nervously, obviously trying to come up with a lie to cover for his best friend that wasn't obvious.

that's the thing you didn't understand, how men could think that you were dumb enough to believe they didn't know anything. you always knew, you were just giving him the opportunity to answer honestly.

"he. . ." jake began, looking down at his cup, "look, i don't know. go ask sunoo or something."

you rolled your eyes, brushing past jake but not before hitting the bottom of his cup to make it spill all over him, “oops. go ask sunoo to help you clean that up.”

you’re pretty sure you heard jake call you a bitch under his breath, but you didn’t have the patience to go back and forth with him. not today.

there weren’t many places that your boyfriend could’ve ventured off too, so you decided to start downstairs.

as you descended down the stairs, you noticed that there were people gathered in a circle with an empty soju bottle in the middle.

spin the bottle? how high school. you thought to yourself, but if jungwon was down here, you knew he probably encouraged the idea.

scanning the room, you didn't see your boyfriend, but your eyes landed on a particular raven haired boy who you knew couldn't keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it.

you plastered on your sweetest smile as you sauntered over to him, making sure to pull your v-cut sweater down even more.

"hi sunghoon," you purred, eyeing him up and down, "i feel like i haven't seen you in so long. what have you been up to?”

the boy’s eyes scanned you as well, stopping to look at your cleavage before finding your eyes, “oh hi y/n, has been a while hm.. still with that boyfriend of yours?”

god he wasted no time, did he? you wrapped an arm around his bicep, looking up with the best blowjob eyes you could give, “mm jungwon? we are kind of. . . in a rough patch. why? did he say something?”

“not at all,” sunghoon gave it no thought before wrapping an arm around your waist to feel your boobs press against his side, “though. . . i did see him play spin the bottle with everyone and go into a room with that girl. . . what’s her name? jaehee! that’s it.”

you innocently tilted your head to the side, a pout forming on your glossy lips, “mm. how long have they been in there?”

sunghoon pondered for a second before looking down at you once more, “they should be out any. . .”

his sentence was cut off by the closet door slamming open and hitting the wall behind it. your boyfriend, jungwon stepped out of it with disheveled hair and his sweater now wrinkled.

his eyes scanned the room before landing on you wrapped in sunghoon’s arms, lips quivering up in a smirk before turning back to jaehee.

“—second.” he said, his arm immediately dropping from your waist and downing whatever was left in his cup, “i should probably get back to the party. good seeing you though.”

unfortunately for you, sunghoon began to catch on to this pattern between you and jungwon a while ago. and as hot as you were, he didn’t want part of it—at least to jungwon’s knowledge.

you sauntered up to the pair, a mean look plastered across your features as you stepped in front of them. jaehee froze in spot, eyes growing as big as saucers and looking over to jungwon.

“spin the bottle?” you ask, scoffing as you gave jaehee a once over, “with her?”

jungwon chuckled, pulling jaehee closer to him, “c’mon. like you weren’t over there feeling up sunghoon. ‘oh sunghoon, you are so strong. please put me in a headlock.’” he squealed in a high pitch voice to mock you.

“jaehee,” you turned your attention back to the girl who felt like she would turn to stone if she looked into your cold eyes, “you know jungwon has a girlfriend, yes?”

jaehee shifted away from jungwon’s grip if it was searing hot, eyes planted on the floor, “well. . . he told me that you two were on a break and it didn’t um. . . he didn’t care so why should i? he wasn’t going to mention it and i wouldn’t either. . . if i had known i would’ve—.”

“wouldve what?” you cut her off, stepping closer to her and forcing her chin up with your index finger, “told me you groped my boyfriend for 7 minutes because everyone encouraged you to go into the closet with my boyfriend? c’mon jaehee, i wasnt born yesterday. i always know. tsk. . . such a shame. a pretty and smart girl like you garnishing a reputation as a boyfriend stealer.”

the girl’s eyes filled with panic and tears threatened to spill over, “n-no. . . i’m sorry y/n. please, forgive me.”

you dropped your hand from her chin, rolling your eyes at her and taking a step back, “because i’m not entirely a cold hearted bitch, i accept your apology. i’ll act like this never happened and you won’t mention it again. everyone in that circle is probably too drunk to remember this anyway, and if they mention it, you best act like you don’t know who jungwon is.”

she nodded quickly, you would think her neck would’ve snapped off as she scurried up the stairs and as far away from the two of you as possible.

you turned your attention to your boyfriend who was looking at you in disbelief, “you are so fucked up, y/n.”

shrugging your shoulders, you grabbed him by his wrist and pulled him into the exact room he left with jaehee.

as soon as the door was closed and locked, your back was pressed against it and jungwon’s mouth was on yours.

you pushed your tongue in his mouth, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck as he pulled your leg up and over his hip so he could press himself into you.

that’s what you really loved about jungwon, he got hard over any physical contact between the two of you.

he was so attracted to you, it took nothing to get him to submit most of the time.

his hand snuck it's way under your skirt, fingers pushing your panties to the side, "it's sick how wet you get from this."

you let out a moan when his fingers came into contact with your clit, rubbing it in figure eights, "it's sick how much you enjoy doing this."

jungwon chuckled, attaching his lips back to yours as he continued rubbing you, "mmh, but that's what makes this game so fun. it's the same routine, no wondering what will happen next except how you'll scar whatever girl fell into my trap."

your lips carved into a frown, grabbing his hand to stop his movements on your cunt, "excuse me?"

"it's not an insult," he quickly added, "but it'll be the same. i'll finger you, you'll go down on me but won't let me finish until you cum at least twice, and then i fuck you and we're done."

as true as this was. . . you didn't like that he was basically mocking you. jungwon and you did have the same routine every time you played this twisted game, but that doesn't mean he had to say it out loud and ruin the fuck.

"hm," you simply said, dropping his hand from your grip, "continue."

"i'm not trying to insult you," he whispered against the shell of your ear as he slid two fingers into you, groaning at how they sucked him in, "i'm sorry if i did."

"it's fine," you bit out, trying to focus on how his skilled fingers moved in and out of you, "but you're wrong."

the way jungwon curled his fingers inside of you had you see stars, and almost change your mind about what you were about to say.

"wrong about what?" jungwon pressed his palm against you, giving your clit the pressure you needed, cunt clenching around his hands desperately.

a squeal escaped you as you felt yourself reach your peak, gripping his shoulders tightly as you rode this high out, "'m gonna make you cum until you're crying and begging me to have mercy on you."

jungwon removed his fingers from your panties, adjusting your skirt before bringing his hand to your lips, "suck."

you grabbed his wrist, moving his hand to his face, "no, you suck, and just for that, another orgasm added to this list, fuckin' brat."

oh it was going to be a long night.

end!

#karmies reqs #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen hard thoughts #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon hard hours #yang jungwon smut #yang jungwon x reader #jungwon imagines

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callixspod · 2 days

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Your affection. [Read ID]

might make an animatic out of this BUT!! here's more of my brain blasted insanities. Rambles of "I<3U" AU below here ↓

What began as a simple one off story about a living digital consciousness inside a video game to be implemented on Persona 4, and their unused game files hidden behind folders, left to collect dust. But it still remains, waiting for anyone to discover it.

I can't put on the details on how Yosuke even gained sentience, but I can tell you now that this AU simply took place on Persona 4 Vanilla. (Not golden. As much as it has its own content I will be sticking with its roots. So yes, Yosuke didn't own/bought a motorcycle. That event never happened.) Hanamura's odd behavior only happened when the Player bought the game with a specific player ID. So their gameplay experience will be on their perspective of how this one character manages to know, everything about them. Also slightly close to creepypastas which, I loved. Huhu.

This can be seen as a Yume or Souyo ship perspective so pick your poison

Now it's time for Yosuke's unique behavior towards the player when they progress the game. His depraved ass was already set to go off when the player was given the option to pick miscellaneous interactions between the characters, mostly to follow up Yosuke's questions or any one of the investigation team to mention anything about Yosuke. The options being "What kind of girls do you prefer?", "Looking great [insert name]" or the famous "Which ones are you looking forward to see in a swimsuit"

If you're like me and didn't indulge on having a romantic subchoice to any of the members, that's where it triggers the start of a few bugs and glitches manifested behind the scenes, fuelling the code until it couldn't automatically run on itself, but from something else manually taking over. Manifesting the game to not coordinate with its ordered storyline, changing the system to be primarily more unique than others.

When Yosuke only appears for a few days on the weekend, suddenly his model would stand in position to a day that he was not meant to show up. He was meant to show up on a Sunday. So why was he here out in daylight on a Saturday? Other strange occurrences are if whenever Yosuke was on scene, closeups and corrupted texts would come in to reach out to the Player, sending a message that only he and the other side of the screen can see.

Now his normal dialogue never wound up to show from the screen, simply replaced with vague, short-ended questions asking them if "Are you there?" "Can you hear me?" "I can't see you, but I can still hear your voice." "Will you show me someday?" That last part was not a suggestion. Really demanding, hard for him to know he'll be left alone all over again if the Player turns off their game, aw :( And he keeps remembering the shit I gave to you even when I didn't need some of them.

So that's it? I think??? 😭 There will be more, later I'm rlly tired.

until then, have what's served on this 4 stat Yelp restaurant.

#persona 4 #yu narukami #yosuke hanamura #souyo #I<3U AU #my art #fanart #attempted to make him look. on model as possible #the warmup sketches says so #i hope that i managed to explain it okay cos my eyez are starting to feel hwsvy #vhgujj

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vallaslins · 2 days

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John Epler please explain to me how it doesn't matter who the Divine is for the Andrastian nations of the Anderfels, Nevarra, Antiva, and Rivain.

Also how does it not matter who killed the archdemon when their tomb is supposed to be at Weisshaupt?

If the Inquisitor is present and their romance is going to be mentioned, how does it not matter if they broke up or if their love interest is dead?

How does it not matter who drank from the Well when both the Inquisitor and Morrigan will be in the game?

How does it not matter if Kieran exists, much less has the old god soul? Morrigan just won't mention him at all and players will have to pretend he exists off-screen? Or is Bioware going to invalidate worldstates without Kieran since most players do the Dark Ritual?

I knew as soon as they said the decisions carrying over would be chosen during character creation that the number of decisions would be low. But only three and them all being Inquisition decisions and two of them being from Trespasser is insane.

#op #dragon age #datv #veilguard #dav #spoilers

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allthesmutl0vers · 2 days

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Fred Weasley x F! Reader Smut

MDNI, 18+ Requests: OPEN Reblogs and comments are always appreciated.🥰💖 Request: Smut with Fred or George, female reader please! Requested By: @justgethappy Word Count: 3,251 A/N: Sorry this took me so long, I had a family emergency. But I think it might be worth the wait. 🫡🌶️🫠 Summary: You've been crushing on your best friend, Fred Weasley, for years. One night, during a game of truth or dare in the common room, you're forced to finally admit your feelings. Unbeknownst to you, he already knows and has been waiting for you to admit it so he can ravage you in the way he's only ever dreamed about. TW: Heavy spice (P! in V!- Unprotected, but on birth control), light BDSM (choking, some bondage), Oral (M & F receiving and giving), Gagging (no vomit), Possessive!Fred, Spanking, Claiming Kink, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, God Kink. (Let me know if I missed anything.)

"Nervous?" Fred asks as he sits down beside me. My heart flutters as his hand brushes mine as he leans back on his hands. How I've managed to focus on anything all of these years with him always at my side is nothing short of a miracle.

I shake my head with a small smile spreading across my lips. "Nope," Liar. I lie and lean closer, smelling fireworks and cedar. God, why does he have to smell so good? "You?" I ask as Lee sits down with an empty bottle in the middle of all of us.

Fred chuckles, biting his lower lip with a smirk as he looks me up and down. "Not even a little," he winks. He's such a flirt that for just a moment, I think he actually might be flirting with me. But that's crazy. Not only did he just break up with Katie Bell, he's my best friend, not to mention the biggest fucking flirt in the school.

"Everyone ready?" Lee asks, rubbing his hands together with a smirk. We all nod and agree, and he clears his throat. "Brilliant. Now, remember, you have to do your dare or answer your truth honestly. If you don't, you get a jinx, and we'll know you're lying anyway. Not to mention, you'll have to live with the jinx for a whole day," he laughs.

My stomach flips with nerves. I don't think I could live with 'liar' or 'wimp' painted across my forehead for a day. My plan of action is just to pick 'truth' the entire game. It's better to admit something embarrassing than have to do some horrific dare like stripping and running down the corridor and back like Lee had to do last time.

As the game goes on, I'm lucky enough to not have to bottle land on me. Angelina is dared to make out with George. Lee admits to having stolen from Honeydukes multiple times. Harry had to take a shot while doing a handstand. George had to eat an entire handful of puke-flavored Bertie Bott's Beans. (Lucky for Angelina, it was after their make out session.) And Fred was dared to give Harry a very sultry lap dance. I might just make it out of this game unscathed. At least, that's what I thought until the bottle landed on me.

"Y/n," Lee smirks. "Truth or dare, love?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me. He knows I'll pick truth, but he also knows about my crush on Fred. If I pick truth, he'll no doubt ask about it. But if I pick dare, he'll no doubt make me act on it.

I take a deep breath and sit up. "Truth," I tell him in a flat voice that contrasts the adrenaline and nervousness rushing through my veins, and settling deep in my stomach.

Lee smirks and looks at Fred before looking back at me. "Y/n, is it true you have a crush on one of our Weasley twins?" My stomach drops, and the only thing keeping me from completely passing out is the fact he didn't specifically name Fred.

I weigh the options for a moment, which is pointless because if I say no, the jinx will out me anyway. "Yes," I admit, barely above a whisper, as I feel my cheeks flush. Goddamn it, Lee.

"Which one?" Angelina asks from my other side, her eyes narrowing at me. Shit, maybe Lee should've asked if it was Fred. I know Angelina likes George, and as much as I love him, he's all hers if she wants.

"I answered my truth," I try to play it off as a joke. I can tell her in private later if I have to.

Angelina spins the bottle, then stops it as it lands on me again. "Truth or dare?" She damn near spits at me.

"That's not-"

"Pick," Angelina practically seethes.

"Truth," I answer hesitantly.

"Which one do you like? Fred or George?" She asks sternly. Merlin, I could strangle her with my bare hands right now. I say a silent prayer for George if this is what he's into. But from the look on his face, he might be rethinking Angelina. "We're waiting," she says impatiently when I don't answer right away.

"Fred," I admit, feeling the blooming jinx fade away. I watch relief wash over her face, and she smiles. I'm so glad you're relieved, bitch. Because I might just fucking die. I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, and refuse to look at Fred, who I can feel staring me down. "Let's just keep playing," I mutter, my heart not into it anymore.

When the game finally ends, I sit and watch everyone else leave before I stand and let out a huge sigh. Whatever fallout comes from admitting my feelings for Fred can wait until tomorrow. "Y/n," Fred's voice says softly behind me as I reach the stairs that lead to the girls dorms.

Guess we're dealing with it tonight.

I turn to look at my best friend as he steps closer. "Fred, I-" he cuts me off by taking my face in his hands and pressing his lips to mine harshly. Fuck, is this really happening? I lean into it, my hands finding his waist and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

When our lips finally part, my eyes flutter open, looking up into his eyes. "It's about bloody time you admit it," he chuckles against my lips. "Merlin, woman. You know how to keep a man waiting."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What do you mean? You knew?" I ask, a soft gasp escaping my lips.

Fred chuckles, shaking his head and resting his forehead down on mine. His hands roam to my waist, gripping me tightly and making me suck in a breath. "Darling, I always knew. I was just waiting for you," he says with a smirk. "Why do you think I left Katie?" he shakes his head, lifting it and tipping my face up to his by my chin. "She isn't you," he grips me tighter, making me clench my thighs. "You take up so much damn space in my head. I couldn't cum unless I was looking at the back of her head, pretending she was you," he says huskily.

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out, leaving me looking like a blubbering fish. He pretended someone else was me? He left someone because they weren't me? My brain is in a fog. The only thing it's able to focus on is Fred, fucking. I've imagined it so many times as I pleasure myself under my sheets. I feel my panties dampen at the thought of Fred between them, fucking me better, harder than anyone else before.

"Show me," the words escape my mouth before I can stop them.

Fred looks at me as if I just handed him a million galleons. "Don't temp me, darling. Say you don't mean it," he says huskily, his grip on my hips tightening to the point of pain, but I don't move away.

I bite my lower lip, my teeth biting into the tender flesh under his darkening gaze. "I mean it," I tell him.

Fred groans, his head tipping back before his eyes meet mine again. "Come with me."

Fred grabs my hand, leading me to his dorm room. I can see it's empty, but that doesn't mean that Lee or George won't be back soon. Fred doesn't seem bothered by it, however, given the way he spins me, pinning me to his door. One of his hands pins both of my wrists above my head, the other hand gripping my waist as he presses his lips to mine.

I hum with pleasure into the kiss, parting my lips to allow his tongue to enter when he licks my bottom lip. Fred groans, his grip on my wrists tightening as he moves to kiss down my jaw, my neck, and the sweet spot right behind my ear that turns me into putty in his hands. "Freddie," I whisper.

"Mm, yes, darling?" He hums as his other hand moves to my ass, cupping it and lifting my leg to wrap around his waist.

I hold back a moan as my desire and lust for him only grows. "What- what if they come back?" I ask with a hiss as he nips my neck.

Fred chuckles in my neck, his breath sending a pleasurable shiver down my spine. His eyes meet mine, the usual funny and kind sparkle in them long forgotten as they darken. "Don't worry about them. They won't be back tonight," he says firmly.

I nod, helpless, as he lifts me by my thighs and carries me to his bed, laying me down on my back. Fred kisses me again, kneeling between my legs as his fingers work to unbutton my top with haste. Once all of the buttons are undone, he lifts me by the small of my back as I remove it the rest of the way, taking off my bra along with it.

Fred pulls back, breaking the kiss as he looks me up and down, biting his lower lip. "Merlin, have mercy, woman," he groans. He lays me back down, propping himself up on one hand as the other moves to grope my breast, his fingers pinching and rolling my nipple between them, making me let out a whimpering moan. "You're so fucking beautiful. You have no idea how long I've waited for this."

My fingers unbutton his top, tugging on it so remove it as he leans back to finish pulling it off. "Then get to it, Weasley," I tease with a smirk. I stare at his chest with need. Merlin, quidditch does a body good. His toned and muscular shoulders, his profound abs tensing at my teasing.

Fred's hands move up my thighs painfully slow to the waistband of my skirt and panties, pulling them both down and tossing them aside in one fluid motion, leaving me bare in front of him. "Watch your tone, darling," he warns as he cups my pussy, making me gasp as he slides a finger between my folds and circles my entrance, careful not to touch my clit.

"Or else you won't let me cum?" I tease, grinding myself against his hand, desperate for his fingers to reach my clit.

Fred smirks as he leans over me again, thrusting a finger inside of me and eliciting a moan to leave my throat. "No, darling," he teases back as he curls a finger inside of me, pressing right on that spongy sweet spot inside of me, making me pant with need. "Or else I'll make you cum so hard you'll cry," he says, nipping my nipple. "Begging me to take it easy as you cum over, and over again."

I feel my walls clench around his fingers as he slides another one inside of me. "Mmm, but it seems like you want that, don't you?" Fred taunts as his thumb finally lands on my clit.

I nod, moaning softly as he works his fingers with perfect precision in and out of me as his thumb rubs my clit. "Yes... God, yes," I whimper underneath him, my nails scratching down his sides and making him shiver. I undo his pants and reach into them, grasping his rock-hard cock. Fuck, he's so big. How is that supposed to fit?

Fred groans, tilting his head back as he thrusts into my hand. "Such a good girl for me," he praises. He leans down, kissing the sweet spot behind my ear again as he whispers into my ear. "I need to taste you. I might just die if I don't," he pleads.

I tilt my head, pressing my lips to his with a moan. "Yes, Freddie. I need it," I whimper against his lips.

"Mm, then get on my face, darling. Take your seat on your throne," he says with a groan as he pulls back, taking his devious fingers with him. He takes off his pants and boxers, kicking them off to the side as he lays on his back.

I feel a blush creep onto my cheeks. "What if you can't breathe?" I ask nervously as he pulls me onto his face to ride it reverse-cowgirl.

Fred slaps my ass, making me gasp as he grips my hips. "I swear to God, darling. If you don't sit on my fucking face, then I will die. Now sit on your goddamn throne and let me eat my pussy," he demands.

He doesn't leave me with any option as he pushes my thighs apart, forcing me to sit on his face. "F-Fuck!" I moan loudly as his tongue dives inside my entrance, thrusting in and out as he devours me whole. My eyes find his long, thick cock as the tip drips with pre-cum, making my mouth water. I lean forward, pushing my pussy into his face and making him groan.

I take his cock in my hand, pumping it a few times before I lick slow circles around his tip with my tongue. Fred moans, gripping my hips tighter as his tongue lands on my clit. I take his cock in my mouth, sucking as I take him deeper in my throat, my hand pumping his cock where my mouth can't reach.

Fred smacks my ass again, drawing another moan from me around his cock. "Fuck, yes," he moans against my clit, adding the perfect amount of vibration. His hips thrust up, forcing me to take more of him down my throat. Tears prick my eyes as I gag around his cock when it hits the back of my throat. "That's it, darling. Gag for me like a good little slut," he growls.

I feel myself get wetter from the mix of his filthy words and his praise. My legs begin to shake on either side of his head as my orgasm begins to crest. "F-Freddie, I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me, darling. Give it all to me," Fred demands from beneath my thighs as he begins to suck on my clit. My hands grip the sheets, digging in as the tether inside of me snaps, and I let out a loud moan, a string of curses, and his name as Fred rides me through my orgasm with his devilish tongue.

When my orgasm finally fades, I'm a shaking, whimpering mess as he lifts me, switching up our positions and laying me on my back again. "You're so beautiful when you come undone for me," he praises softly, kissing me and allowing me to taste myself on his lips. "Do it again," he says as he lines his cock up with my entrance.

I moan and whimper as he pushes his long and thick cock inside of me. I've never taken anyone of his size before, and it hurts at first. "Relax, darling," Fred says softly, holding still as I adjust to his size. "That's my girl," he says sweetly, kissing my neck. "Are you ready?" he asks, his expression caring.

"It's not all the way in?!" I ask in shock as my body begins to relax around him.

Fred chuckles and shakes his head. "Only half-way," he smirks, nipping my bottom lip between his teeth. "Though I appreciate the sentiment," he teases.

I let out a shaky breath and smirk. "You're insufferable," I tease.

Fred hums as he pushes himself inside of me further, settling into the hilt. "Just for you," he says lovingly. He leans back, looking down at where his cock starts to thrust in and out of me, gripping my thighs. "You take me so well. Fucking made for me," he groans.

I grip the pillow above my head. "God, Freddie, it's yours," I moan softly as the pain disappears and melts into Earth-shattering pleasure.

A low growl escapes Fred's throat as his speed picks up. "Damn right, it's mine," he moans. "All," he thrusts. "Fucking," another hard thrust. "Mine," he emphasizes with a hard thrust, making me mewl and writhe under him.

"Fred, God, yes!" I cry out as he leans down, his thrusts unrelenting. His hand wraps around my throat, not cutting off my air, but cutting off the blood flow to my head.

"Don't cry out for God, he's not the one fucking you," Fred moans darkly. "I'm your God now. Cry out for me," Fred demands.

I whimper, my hands draping around his neck. "Freddie," I moan as his thrusts quicken. "Freddie, yes. You're- You're my God," I whimper.

"And you're my parishioner," he answers. "My devout little lamb," he praises as he releases my throat, allowing the blood to flow back to my brain as he sits back on his ankles. His thumb rubs my clit fast as his thrusts get harder, pounding into me with unrelenting force.

My legs begin to shake again as my orgasm threatens to crash into me like a bludger. My moans become frantic as I pull my legs up to my chest, keeping them spread wide to allow Fred's cock to reach impossibly deeper. "Freddie, I need to cum," I whimper and plead.

"Then cum, little lamb. Give me everything you have, and I will fill you up," Fred moans as his cock twitches inside of me, and his thrusts begin to stagger.

My back arches as my nails tear at the fabric of the pillow above my head. My orgasm crashes into me, setting off stars in my vision as my release washes over me. "Fred!" I cry out in a strangled cry.

Fred moans my name loudly as he thrusts into me one final time, spilling his hot cum inside of me. He rides us both through our highs before he finally withdraws his cock. He leans over me, brushing my hair from my face and tucking it gently behind my ear. "You did so well, little lamb," he praises softly, kissing the edges of my mouth.

I hum with pleasure as a smile dances across my lips. "Just for you, Freddie," I respond softly, kissing his lips.

Fred cleans us both up, tending to me with care as he wipes me down, puts on my panties, and dresses me in one of his shirts before laying back down next to me and pulling me to his chest. "You have no idea how long I've wanted you," he says softly as I cuddle into his arms, my head resting on his shoulder.

I look up at him and smile. "Was it worth the wait?"

Fred smiles and kisses my forehead. "For you? I would wait a thousand years to make you mine."

I giggle softly and kiss him back. "So I take it we're officially together?" I tease playfully.

Fred laughs softly and nods, running his fingers through my hair. "Unless you have other plans," he teases back. "Though I doubt anyone can make you feel the way I just did," he taunts with a wink.

I roll my eyes and snort a laugh. "Someone thinks highly of himself," I quip with a smirk.

"Says the one who called me 'God,'" he quips back.

I smile and snuggle closer, draping a leg over his thighs and pulling myself closer. "Fair enough. But, Freddie?"

"Hmm?" He hums tiredly.

"If you flirt with another girl again, I'll end you both," I warn him.

Fred laughs and shakes his head. "Yes, ma'am."

#harry potter smut #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley

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hobnob2020 · 2 days

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Solavellan hate

After reading the latest news today I just don't understand where all this hatred towards romanced Solas comes from.

I completely understand that there are possibly "better" romances out there to some people (I adored Dorians) but Veilguard is centred around Solas' past and present decisions so he's going to play a massive role in this game, Rook is literally designed to be a mirror image to Solas!

Now as far as the Inquisitors role in this, Solas duped them whether romanced or not so they are going to feel responsible for not seeing Solas for who and what he was, meaning they are willing to fix a mistake by either stopping or saving him depending on how you felt about him.

For us Solasmancers we were given the least fleshed out romance in DAI with no sex scene, no casual kissing and then had him walk out on us with no explanation so forgive us for feeling a little short changed after all these years.

To be given confirmation that a "happy" ending has been reached means so much to us so please stop trying to spoil our fun.

Just because people involved with the game love this relationship too and have addressed it more than others doesn't mean there won't be mention of other romances but i doubt anyone will show up except maybe Dorian purely for story purposes.

As for the "Default/Canon" inquisitor being a Lavellan without her markings I think they've done this to purely give new players the most that they can from DAI and Solas because you get so much more from his character when you're romancing him.

Can we not just celebrate this game and be grateful that this is happening in just over 30 days time and that it has survived lockdowm and multiple lay offs.

It is one of the greatest fandoms to be a part of and I love the art and fanfics that talented people create from it so please try to be kind and respect other people and their opinions.

#dragon age the veilguard #dragon age #dragon age 4 #solas dragon age #da4 #solas #dragon age spoilers #solavellan hell #solas x female lavellan

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indieyuugure · 2 days

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I know I'm a bit late to comment about this and I don't know if anyone's mentioned it but this scene feels really authentic and like the perfect mix of Rise! Splinter and 2012! Splinter.

He starts of talking in a more harsh tone like 2012! splinter would however once he sees the looks on his son's faces he has a look of realization and softens his tone, suggesting that they just play there video games and says he needs alone time. Which I think would definitely be something Rise splinter would say when he's worried and his turtles wanna do something dangerous against his orders.

And the look on the turtles faces. Especially Leo and Mikey. They all nervous and very uncomfortable at splinters tone and they all show it on their faces. But the differences in their expressions really tells you exactly how they handle being yelled at. They all clearly dislike it but raph is better at hiding it. Not even mentioning the look of horrified realization on splinters face when he sees the turtle's faces.

This also feels very much like a interaction real parents and their children could have with each other.

Sorry for the long message. It's just your take on TMNT is really good and is practically a blend of all my favorite iterations. You convey emotions very well, the character designs are great, and the characters seem like a blend of the best parts of every iteration. Plus the story so far has been great.

I wish you the best of luck as this comic continues, because so far it's definitely one of my favorite TMNT comic series/fan projects ever.

It’s never too late to comment on anything 😂

THANK YOU!! I’m so glad you liked how this scene turned out! I wanted to make it seem like a real parent-child reaction.

The turtles’ reactions are meant to show how Splinter doesn’t yell at them a lot—or at least not often anymore—which is why their faces are a mix of shock, fear, and mild confusion.

I wanted to show too that Splinter didn’t mean for his words to come out so harsh, but the subject of the Foot Clan triggered deep memories and feelings that made him yell. That’s why when he sees his sons’ faces he catches himself and realizes that this is to sensitive of a topic and goes to cool off.

I’m really happy that you are enjoying this comic so far! I’ve been greatly enjoying making it and sharing it with you guys! I hope you continue to love it! :]

#tmnt #q&a #indie tmnt #indie’s turtles #You’re analysis is so good my man!#I absolutely will read every letter of your guy’s long questions!

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novaursa · 2 days

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hi!! i know you mentioned your requests are closed but i wanted to share this idea with you!! you don’t have to do anything with it, i just love all of your work and how fluid your writing is!!

but i was imaging a reader being the daughter of maegor 😭 HEAR ME OUT, what if there was a possibility he did have a child from his first marriage and automatically named reader as his heir, in turn of wanting to overthrow his nephew. however the resder wants aegon to be spared. maybe because long ago when she was younger, even though she inherited maegor and visenya’s cruelness, she had a soft spot for aegon and his gentleness. she revels in violence and is against the faith (despite her mother’s persistence) but wants to marry aegon for the sake old valyria and absence of her fathers destruction.

reader could also wield a sword!! like her grandmother i believe when aenys was still alive, they had a great celebration in her name and visenya gifts her a valyrian steel blade :D

i feel like aegon wouldn’t accept her marriage proposal, because he’s already betrothed to Alyssa Velaryon but yet she still persist, possibly even bring war despite her disapprovement of it earlier 😅 again you don’t have to reply i totally understand how busy you are with requests and such. but I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head and I absolutely respect and appreciate your work so much!!

A Flame Torn

- Summary: You confess your love to Aegon, but his answer is not like you hoped it would be.

- Paring: cousin!reader/Aegon (The Uncrowned) Targaryen (one-sided)

- Note: The reader is the only daughter of Maegor I Targaryen and Ceryse Hightower.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

- A/N: I had to cut some information out so the short story in not overwhelmed by it. But, I consider all your information canon for this AU if I decide to return to it later.

The hall is filled with the light of a thousand candles, the flickering flames reflecting off the gleaming armor and bright silks worn by the lords and ladies gathered for your nameday. Laughter and music fill the air as you make your way through the throngs, your gaze drifting toward a single figure.

Aegon Targaryen stands near the center of the hall, speaking with his father, King Aenys, and your own mother, Ceryse. His silver hair glints in the candlelight, and his eyes are lilac soft, kind. You feel your heart tighten as you watch him, longing and hope mingling painfully in your chest. You know this dance, this game of longing glances and polite conversation, but tonight you have resolved to be bold.

As you approach, he looks up, and your breath catches at the way his face brightens when he sees you. He steps forward, bowing slightly. "Y/N, the guest of honor," he says with a smile that sends warmth flooding through you. "Might I have the next dance?"

You nod, unable to speak as he takes your hand and leads you to the floor. The music swells around you, and you move together, gracefully, like two dragons in flight. His hand is warm on your waist, his gaze steady on yours. For a moment, it feels like the world has shrunk to just the two of you.

"Aegon," you begin, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you want to say, "there is something I must tell you."

He tilts his head slightly, curiosity in his eyes. "What is it, cousin?"

You hesitate, the words tangled in your throat. You can feel the eyes of the court upon you, the weight of expectation and propriety pressing down. But you push it all aside, focusing only on him, on the way his hand feels in yours.

"I love you," you whisper, the words so quiet they almost drown beneath the music. But he hears them. You see the way his expression falters, the smile fading as his eyes widen in surprise.

"Y/N..." His voice is soft, almost pained. He glances around, as if seeking an escape from your confession, before looking back at you. "You know I am promised to Rhaena. My father—"

"I know," you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I know, but I cannot pretend any longer. I have loved you for as long as I can remember, Aegon. And I would be a truer match for you than Rhaena."

He looks stricken, his grip on your hand tightening for a moment before he releases it, stepping back. The space between you feels like a chasm. "Y/N, I cannot betray my father's wishes. Nor Rhaena. She is my sister, my—"

Your heart feels as if it is being crushed. You force yourself to nod, though it feels as if you are breaking apart inside. "I understand." The words taste like ashes. "Forgive me."

He reaches out as if to touch you, then stops, his hand falling back to his side. "There is nothing to forgive," he murmurs, but his voice is distant, as if he is already retreating from you, building walls that you will never be able to breach.

You turn away before he can see the tears gathering in your eyes, moving through the crowd with your head held high, though each step feels like it is made of lead. You find your seat beside your mother, Ceryse, who looks at you with quiet concern, her hand reaching out to squeeze yours.

Your father, Maegor, is watching you, his dark violet eyes narrowing as he takes in the slump of your shoulders, the way your gaze remains fixed on the floor. He leans closer, his voice a low rumble. "What troubles you, daughter? Is it Aenys' pitiful son?"

You flinch at his words but do not look up. "It is nothing, Father."

"Do not lie to me," he says, his voice sharp but not unkind. "I can see the sorrow in your eyes. Is this about Aegon?"

You nod, feeling a tear slip down your cheek despite your best efforts. "I... I told him how I felt. And he rejected me. He is bound to Rhaena."

Maegor's face darkens, his mouth a thin line. "Aenys and his weakling spawn," he mutters, his hands clenching into fists. "They are all unworthy of you."

"Father, please," you say, reaching out to grasp his arm. "I do not want you to hurt him. He did nothing wrong."

He looks at you then, his gaze softening, though there is still a storm raging behind his eyes. "I will not see you suffer, Y/N. Not for him. Not for anyone."

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I do not want vengeance, Father. I just... I just want to forget."

He does not respond immediately, his eyes drifting to where Aegon now stands with Rhaena, their hands clasped, their faces turned toward each other with smiles that feel like daggers in your heart. "One day," Maegor murmurs, so softly that only you can hear, "I will see him brought to his knees for this. He will regret ever causing you pain."

You shudder at the cold promise in his voice, squeezing his arm tighter. "Please, Father. For me."

He looks at you, his gaze searching, and finally, he nods, though the fire in his eyes does not diminish. "For you, daughter. Only for you."

But you know, as you sit there beside him, your heart aching, that this wound will not easily heal. And in the depths of your father's gaze, you see a shadow of the war that will one day come, a war that will spill blood and shatter bonds, all in the name of a love that was never meant to be.

The air inside the hall feels thick, suffocating, as you sit beside your mother, lost in the swirl of your thoughts. Laughter and music continue to fill the room, but they seem distant, muffled, as if you’re hearing them from underwater. You can feel Aegon’s gaze on you from across the room, a persistent weight that you refuse to acknowledge. You keep your eyes fixed on the cup in your hands, tracing the intricate patterns etched into the silver as if they hold the answers to questions you do not dare ask.

Movement at your side draws your attention. Visenya Targaryen, your grandmother and the Dowager Queen, stands before you. Her presence commands the attention of everyone nearby, but her focus is solely on you. She extends a hand, and you take it, rising to your feet with a small, grateful smile.

“Come, child,” she says, her voice a cool, calming balm against the storm of emotions within you. “There is something I wish to give you.”

She leads you through the throng of lords and ladies, past the musicians and dancers, until you are standing near the dais where your father’s seat commands the room. A hush falls over the crowd as Visenya reaches behind her and draws forth a sword, its blade gleaming like liquid night under the glow of the torches.

“This,” she says, holding it out to you, “is Dark Sister, a blade of Valyrian steel, forged in Old Valyria and carried by many warriors of our line. I pass it to you now, as a symbol of our blood, our strength, and your place in this family.”

Your breath catches as you take the sword, its weight familiar and comforting in your hands. Dark Sister hums with an almost imperceptible vibration, a whisper of power that resonates through your very bones. You look up at Visenya, unable to find the words to express what this means to you.

“Thank you, Grandmother,” you finally manage, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I will wield it with honor.”

She nods, her eyes softening for a moment. “I know you will, child.” Then, leaning closer, she adds in a lower voice, “Your father has told me what transpired with Aegon. Come, walk with me. We should speak away from all these eyes.”

You nod, grateful for the chance to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the celebration. The two of you slip out of the hall, the cool night air a welcome relief against your heated skin. The sounds of the feast fade behind you as you walk along the winding paths of the castle gardens.

For a while, neither of you speaks. You simply walk, the silence between you heavy but not uncomfortable. Visenya’s presence, as always, is a steadying force, a reminder of your heritage and strength.

“Do not let this break you, Y/N,” she says finally, her voice firm but gentle. “You are stronger than that.”

You swallow, your grip tightening on the hilt of Dark Sister. “It just… it hurts. I thought—hoped—he might feel the same. But he is bound to Rhaena. And I—” You stop, the words catching in your throat. “I cannot change what I feel.”

Visenya nods, her gaze thoughtful as she looks out over the moonlit gardens. “Love is a dangerous thing for those of our blood. It can be a source of strength, or it can be a weakness that others will exploit.” She glances at you, her eyes piercing. “You must learn to use your feelings, not let them use you.”

You nod slowly, trying to absorb her words. “I know, Grandmother. But it is difficult.”

“Difficult, yes. But not impossible.” She pauses, reaching out to touch your shoulder, her grip surprisingly strong. “You have your father’s fire, but you also have my mind. Temper your emotions with reason, and you will be a force to be reckoned with.”

You look down at the sword in your hand, the blade shimmering in the moonlight. “And what of Aegon?” you ask quietly. “He is still my cousin. I do not wish him harm.”

Visenya’s expression hardens slightly. “Your father will do what he thinks best. He sees insult where you see rejection, and he will not forget it easily. But you…” She tilts her head, considering. “You must decide what you want, and how far you are willing to go to get it.”

“I do not want to be the cause of more bloodshed,” you murmur, though even as you say it, you know how hollow the words sound. You are Maegor’s daughter, Visenya’s granddaughter. Bloodshed is your legacy, whether you wish it or not.

“Sometimes, blood is the price we pay for power, for respect, for love,” Visenya says softly. “But that is a lesson you will learn in time. For now, remember this: you are not defined by what others think of you. Not by Aegon, not by Aenys, not even by Maegor. You are your own, and that is what makes you strong.”

You look up at her, the steel in her eyes reflected in your own. “I will not forget, Grandmother.”

She smiles then, a rare, genuine smile that softens her stern features. “Good. Now, let us return before your father sets the hall alight searching for us.”

You laugh, a soft, shaky sound, but real nonetheless. Together, you make your way back toward the castle, the weight of Dark Sister at your side a constant reminder of who you are, and who you will become. And though the night is still heavy with pain and unspoken promises, you feel the first stirrings of something else within you—a resolve, hard and bright as Valyrian steel.

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