#single bedsheet with pillow cover

[tokaihome]

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[busdeals]

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[5sospenguinqueen]

Tastes Like Gin - Max Verstappen x Best Friend! Reader

Summary: Max turns 27, and his best friend surprises him with a birthday party. Unfortunately, a few shots from his fellow drivers gives Max more confidence than he expected.

Warnings: Fluff. Friends to lovers.

Requested: No. Just a birthday piece

F1 Masterlist

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redbullracing just posted

liked by schecoperez, christianhorner and others

redbullracing so many max memories 🎂 here’s to 27. happy birthday 

2,331 comments

christianhorner happy birthday, champ

f1 happy birthday, max

user not rbr only using pics of max in team gear

user waiting (not so) patiently for yn’s bday post because she posts the softest pics of max 

user i love how this post is just fans complaining about max’s car

→ user it’s ‘cause all the drivers will be waiting for yn to post 

user here’s to hoping for more wins when the autumn break is over

user have a purr-fect day 🐱

yn_ln just posted

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yn_ln happy birthday, maxie. no matter how old you get, or how many records you set, you’ll always be the goofball that peed in my paddling pool. happy 27th 🧡🦁

5,533 comments

user yn’s yearly dose of humbling

→ user she always posts the most ego destroying photos of him

→ user as a best friend should 

maxverstappen1 i was 5! and you promised you would stop bringing that up

→ yn_ln was i drunk when i made this promise?

→ maxverstappen1 yes…

→ yn_ln then you know it doesn’t count

→ maxverstappen1 for my birthday this year, i’d like a new best friend

→ yn_ln already bought your present and i can’t refund it. soz

danielricciardo why have you posted two pics of him with his tiddies out

→ yn_ln you mean you don’t like the vertiddies? i’m blessing the mv1 fan base

→ redbullracing and my timeline 

→ yn_ln see

landonorris 27 years means 27 shots

→ yn_ln only if you’re taking him home at the end of the night. he can puke in your bathtub 

→ maxverstappen1 that was one time! and tbf, i’d just won my first wdc 

→ charles_leclerc why do you keep desecrating this woman’s water features

lilymhe ew, is that a man?

→ yn_ln i’m only friends with him for his money, i swear! you’re the only one for me

→ user um, haven’t you been friends since you were kids

→ yn_ln it’s called playing the long game. i could tell he was going to be rich since he was little

→ maxverstappen1 i can’t tell if i’m insulted or complimented 

maxverstappen1 added to his story

yn_ln added to her story

landonorris added to his story

landonorris replied to maxverstappen1’s story wow. what a gorgeous date → i still think you should set us up → maxverstappen1 fuck off → landonorris with a sight like that, i thought you’d be in a better mood

maxverstappen1 replied to yn_ln’s story i can’t believe you pulled off a whole surprise party without me knowing → you’re phenomenal  → yn_ln you’re not mad at me for ruining our nice, quiet evening like you were expected  → maxverstappen1 no. i get to celebrate with all the people i love → and we still had our quiet dinner just the two of us → i can’t believe you’ve done all of this for me → yn_ln i’d do anything for you 

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Tangled in the white bedsheets, you realised you hadn’t changed out of your dress from the night before. Max’s old hoodie, a 33 above the breast, covered the top-half of your frame, providing some semblance of warmth and comfort. Head propped up on the pillows, you squinted at the bright screen in your hand. Blinking furiously, you couldn't tell if the pounding in your head was from the lack of sleep or the disbelief at what you had done. A friendship of over two decades ruined in a single night. Thumb swiping at the screen, a wave of shame washed over you as you scrolled to another post. And then another. 

Another image. Another angle. Another trending tweet. 

All of them accumulated in one place, screaming at you. For years you had buried the feelings you harboured for your best friend. Shoving them deep down below the surface, hiding them under quick-witted remarks and fleeting touches. He had never shown even an inkling that he returned the way you felt. Laughing it off when the other drivers questioned the nature of your relationship. Shoving you at Lando when he joked he’d “take you off his hands”. Asking you for fashion advice a few hours before a first date. And you had endured it all, in order to remain under the light of his platonic love. In one night, you had torn down the wall you had sloppily cemented together. 

The shrill sound of your phone pounded against your skull, piercing through the destructive thoughts. Blurry images of his face pressed against yours were replaced by a professional photo. Max’s face grinning back at you, his cheek smushed against the sliver of your face caught in the edge of the photo. Another night. Another celebration. A very different ending. 

“Why are you awake already?” You muttered to yourself, looking at the contact picture filling up your phone. You thought you’d have more time. More time to think of an excuse, to plan a lie, to pretend you knew nothing about it. 

About his face going viral, her body going viral, the pair of them connected going viral. 

“Morning, old man.” You answered, attempting a light-hearted tone. “I thought you’d still be passed out.”

“I tried,” grumbled Max. “But my phone wouldn’t stop blowing up.”

“That’s odd.”

“Uh, huh. You been on Twitter this morning?” 

Silence fell. You didn’t know how to respond to that with a clear voice. Max didn’t need you to. He could read your silence almost as well as your words. 

“Did that really happen?” 

A sting shot through your chest. Here came the let down. “Well, it can't have been a very memorable kiss if you don’t remember it happening.”

A false laugh echoed down the phone. Max’s eyebrows scrunched together and the unspoken pain. 

“I remember every second of it,” he said vehemently. “I just thought I was dreaming again.”

You didn’t hear his words. Already having prepared your next line. Say the words before he can. That’ll make them hurt less. 

“It’s okay. I know they didn’t mean anything. You were just drunk. I’m sorry it’s gone viral. I can’t imagine the kind of PR mess this will be.”

“No! No, I wasn’t. I mean, I was intoxicated, sure. But, not drunk enough to do things I didn’t mean-” 

“Max, it’s okay. I get it. Nothing will change between us because you had a few too many G&Ts. I’m happy to speak to PR with you and see how we can fix this-.”

“Will you just stop?” Max demanded, voice too loud to both your sensitive ears. He winced as you fell silent, sharp intake of breath filling his ears. “Stop trying to brush this off as nothing. Yes, Charles filled me with shots, and I was more easygoing than normal but I remember every. second. of. that. kiss. You had a cocktail umbrella tucked behind your ear, and Alexandra’s lipstick mark on your cheek. Lando had stolen your hair clip so it was down and loose, just how I like it. I was intoxicated but just enough to give me the courage I didn’t have before.”

“You tasted like gin,” was the breathless reply he got.

“What are you doing this morning?” Max asked, desperate to break the heaviness between the two of you. Desperate to hear your usual answer after a night out; ready for him to take you for a greasy breakfast to mop away the alcohol. 

He could hear your smile - picture it in his head - when you said, “Waiting for you to pick me up, of course.” 

“I’ll be there in 20.”

“Make it 30. I have terrible morning breath.”

Max’s laughter eased the tension in her body. “Maybe this time you’ll taste like mint.” 

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon and others

maxverstappen1 the best birthday gift this year 

6,333 comments

yn_ln i love you 🧡 i can’t wait to spend many more birthdays by your side

→ maxverstappen1 mijn hart

redbullracing finally. we’ve been waiting for this to happen since abu dhabi 2021

→ user rbr so real for that because the way he grabbed her. i fr thought he was going to kiss her there and then

→ maxverstappen1 i wanted to

landonorris but i got you personalised gaming headphones :( 

→ oscarpiastri and i got you the ultimate guide to minecraft

→ danielricciardo yes but neither of you got him laid. yn did

→ yn_ln daniel! 

→ charles_leclerc i got him drunk enough to kiss her. does that count?

→ yn_ln no! 

→ maxverstappen1 yes

→ yn_ln you guys suck

→ landonorris sounds like that was your job

→ yn_ln @/redbullracing @/mclaren @/scuderiaferarri pr training for all of them!

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Requests are open. Coming up;

Drunk and flirty Toto

K Mag Part 2 ‘cause it seems I’ve converted some of you

[iloveboysinred]

Under the Canopy [Firelord Zuko]

Mdni 18+ content | Firelord! Zuko x Reader

Synopsis; Being Firelord had been taking up all your husband’s time. It was hard trying to be a supportive wife by keeping your own desires to yourself.

cw; fem!reader, sexually explicit content, messy oral sex (giving and receiving), fluffy smut, smut with feelings. P in V sex, two seconds of subby Zuko if you squint, split second of overstimulating the firelord, slight mentions of exhibitionism, kinda long and written by an amateur. ;<

; 3291 words

Masterlist

Sorry for the way the paragraphs are formatted, apparently tumblr’s servers cant handle long paragraphs 😒

GIF by @/choschang

It was quiet in the Fire Nation tonight.

You sat by Zuko’s study in your shared room, watching him work. He was writing letters in response to the leaders of the other nations, addressing their concerns as well as handling issues within his own nation. It took all his focus, brush in his hand sliding around on the parchment with precision. While you, left quiet and nothing to do, occasionally took the time to study him. His brow furrowed in concentration as he wrote, his steady hand occasionally pausing to dip his brush in the ink to continue writing on the scroll. The task seemed so simple, but you could see in his eyes he was beginning to grow tired. Zuko has been up long nights as well as enduring equally as draining meetings with diplomats, generals, and his advisors, all in the name of restoring peace to the world, and honor to the Fire-Nation. After the 100-year war, the burden of his forefather’s mistakes fell on Zuko and Aang, working restlessly to reverse 100 years of oppression, which of course, was no easy task. Paired with the uprising of rebellions, and the daunting task of earning the trust of his people and the whole world, being Firelord has kept your husband occupied and stressed.

Many times you found yourself in the same exact place you are now, leaning over the edge of the desk, offering little comments of advice and correcting his grammar, ignoring his occasional demands you get your rest. These long nights were the only alone time you and your husband could enjoy together right now, even if its just you sitting by his side quietly as he worked. Occasionally he would reach over and tangle his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand to let you know he appreciated your presence.

Your heart craved more than gentle hand squeezes and rushed pecks here and there, you missed the warmth of your husband. Many nights you’d lay alone in your extravagant bed, longing for the tender love and passionate touches only Zuko could provide. The silk red and maroon bedsheets reminding you of your husband’s insatiable appetite for your body. Your mind wandered back to your first few nights as newlyweds, when Zuko fucked you on any surface he could hold you up against. His hips rocking into yours hastily, pussy drunk and inexperienced, making his pace desperate. But by the time night had fallen, he had gained plenty of practice on exactly how to please you, making sweet love to you under the stars, not caring how loud you were or who saw you.

You rubbed your hand up the side of your neck, once constantly covered in angry red and purple marks. All gifted from your needy husband who couldn’t keep his lips off of your skin. You sighed, shifting your position on the chair you had taken next to the study. You tried to shake off the creeping arousal you started to feel in your core.

Zuko had to work. It would be selfish to interrupt him.

But you couldn’t help but want to be selfish. The bed behind you looked emptier than it has ever been. The duvet crisply folded over top of the cool, silk red sheets underneath pressed to perfection, not a single wrinkle in sight. Your soft, elegant pillows perfectly arranged in various shades of burgundy and red. All sitting on top of a strong, oak bed frame. A huge tapestry of the fire nation insignia hanging from the wall. Your gaze seemed to stick to the canopy you had specifically asked your husband to have built for you. The thick curtains now tied neatly to their posts. You pictured the lazy mornings you had with Zuko, your legs spread and comfortably resting on his shoulders, his head buried in between your thighs sloppily getting his fill of you. You’d thread your fingers through his hair, lightly grinding your pussy onto his face, urging his tongue deeper. Those very same curtains blocking out the morning light, letting you and Zuko enjoy a little more time with each other.

“Y/n? Cant you hear me talking to you??” bringing you back to the present, you tried to give your husband your undivided attention, your thighs clenched together, your undergarments now damp from your heated arousal. Those filthy thoughts of your husband making your heart race and your clit pulse. “Are you tired or something?” He asked you, tenderly reaching over to place his warm hand on your knee. You jolted at the contact, confusing your lover, who gave you a sideways glance before moving his hand to grasp yours, now resting on your thigh. “N-no i’m not tired baby. I’m just…reminiscing.” Zuko narrowed his eyes at your response, piercing gold looking straight into your soul. “About what?” He questioned, rubbing circles around the back of your palm. The warmth of his hand on your skin made your body tingle. “Well, i’m just thinking about our honeymoon…how I used to have you all to myself. Now it feels like I can barley get two minutes alone with you..” A knowing look overcame Zuko’s face, and you thanked the spirits your husband could read you so well to know what you meant without having to say too much. His cheeks flushed lightly, not expecting an answer of that nature and you smiled warmly at him. He never stopped being bashful, despite being well aquatinted with your needs and desires by now.

“Its okay though, my love. I know you’re busy nowadays. I wouldn’t want you to abandon your duties because of me-“ “come here, love” Zuko interrupted your rambling, pulling his chair away from the study and beckoning you over to sit on his lap. He spread his thighs as you sat down, giving you room to get comfortable. You clung to his robes, and he wrapped his arm around your back, holding you steady against his chest. His other hand rested at your thigh, rubbing and squeezing the soft skin. You felt your clit pulsing between your legs. You were so close to your husband’s dick, resting just under you. The only thing separating you from him being the thick robes that he adorned, and the thin fabric of your panties, now clinging to the damp skin of your pussy. Zuko caressed your back, pressing slow kisses up the length of your shoulder and neck. Nuzzling his nose against your cheek, his warm breath fanned across your skin, you melt into his embrace, breathing out in contentment.

“Tell me exactly what you remember about our honeymoon.” He murmured, sighing blissfully as you threaded your fingers through his hair. You flushed, timidly hiding your face in his neck as you recounted the filthy thoughts you had been thinking about just minutes before. “Well..i was thinking about the first night on Ember Island” you mumbled, moaning when you felt Zuko sucking on your neck, already attempting to leave a hickey on the skin of your throat. “ mmm..mind telling me the details?” His raspy voice made your heart skip a beat, light breaths escaped you as Zuko continued kissing your jaw, his other hand creeping up your thigh, causing your night dress to hike up, the fabric bunching up around your hips. You stilled as his hand ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh, dangerously close to your core. “I was thinking about how you put me up against the wall.. you fucked me so good that night. You always do” you breathed, shivering when you felt your husband’s finger ghosting over the flimsy panties stuck to your skin “And what else?” you barely heard him, the ache between your legs and his teasing was mind numbing. “I just miss you so much, Zuko.” you confessed, your voice was close to whiney, trying to pull at your husband’s heartstrings as much as you can. Zuko hummed, his hands tracing over the lining of your panties, thumb rubbing over the fabric covering your mound. Your breath hitched, the cotton clinging to your lips. He traced over the indent of your pussy, never once taking the soiled fabric off your skin. It was torture, the way his finger pressed slow circles over your clit, the friction of the fabric against you driving you insane. “I want you so bad baby, please” you whined, pressing yourself into his hand. You just about cried with relief when you felt your husband’s fingers slip past the band of your panties, right into your entrance. You arched your hips up, chasing the pleasure.

Zuko smirked against your neck, curling his fingers deliciously against your g-spot, his fingers moving in and out of you steadily. “Zuko..” you sighed, trying your best to fuck yourself against his hand, your hips matching the push and pull of his fingers. “Yes, my love?” He murmured against your ear, knowing exactly what you wanted. But you knew your husband. You knew he wanted you to use your words. “I want you to fuck me..” you whispered, grinding down against his semi-hard dick the best you could with his hand in the way, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. Zuko groaned at the contact, looking into your eyes, glazed over in desperate arousal, lust dancing in his own golden irises. Faster than you could even think, Zuko picked you up off his lap, hastily laying you down on your shared bed. The cooling red silk of your bedsheets felt pleasant against your heated skin. He leaned down, pressing a heated kiss against your swollen lips and you him kissed back, sloppily sucking his tongue into yours, eagerly grabbing at anything you could reach on your husband’s body. Zuko matched your fervor, with his hands running down your sides, fingers hooking onto the hem of your night dress, rolling the fabric up over your thighs and exposing your clothed sex. He pulled the flimsy fabric off with ease, slowly dragging the soaked garment off of you, discarding it somewhere you didnt see, or care. His hands grabbed the underside of your knees, pulling your legs open and pushing them up to your chest, opening you up for your husband’s hungry gaze.

He was quick, dipping his head down and pressing a wet kiss on your mound, dragging a finger up your slit to spread your pussy open, revealing your soaked folds. Your body shivered, the warm air against your clit sending shockwaves up your spine. You felt so open, completely exposed and at your husband’s mercy. Zuko wasted no time, pressing his warm lips against your clit, he suckled on the sensitive bud slowly, parting from you just to press his hand over the surface of your mound, the firm pressure causing your clitorial hood to inch back, giving your him more access to your bundle of nerves. You whined when he resumed his ministrations, devouring your pussy whole. Your body jolted when his fingers entered your heat, the pleasure almost overwhelming your senses. Zuko moaned against you, eating you like a starved man and fucking his fingers into you, curling inside of you and massaging your walls. You gripped his dark locs, hips bucking into his mouth out of reflex. A warm pool began to form in your stomach, the familiar feeling setting your nerves a light. Zuko spread your thighs, burying his face deeper into you, pulling away from your clit to replace his fingers with his tongue, tasing you whole. You gasped from the welcome intrusion, legs closing around his head, holding him still against you. But your husband was having none of it. He aggressively spread your legs open, tongue fucking you with vigor, fingers coming up to rub quick swipes over your clit. It didn’t take you long for your to reach your release, your vision going white as your body convulsed above him. Chant after chant of Zuko’s name as he continued to eat you out, riding out your high. Your chest rose and fell, your breath labored as you looked down at your husband, his hair now tousled and free from the top knot he had neatly placed it in. His chin was shining with your essence, and his pupils were blown. Even with his disheveled appearance Zuko still looked so handsome, and you felt butterflies in your stomach, just as you had when you first met him. Zuko leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to your navel, leaning up towards you and capturing your lips with his. Then he moved back down to your neck, placing feather light kisses against your skin.

A few moments later you caught your breath, your husband still cuddling against your chest, sucking marks on whatever patch of skin he desired. You tugged at his thick robes, successfully pulling the heavy fabric off your husband’s body with his help. Your eyes racked over his body, drinking in the sight of him. Zuko didn’t bother to move the robes off the bed, instead kneeling on them as he pulled his undergarments off, his hard length slipping out, tip flushed and drooling with pre cum. You pushed your hand gently against his chest, laying him back down and reaching for his dick, wrapping your hand around him. You stroked him from base to tip, twisting your wrist around the head and thumbing over his slit, rubbing his pre cum into his skin. Watching your husband shudder and lean his head back in bliss was rewarding. You lowered down to take him into your mouth, tongue flat against the side of him. Zuko sucked in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering up into your mouth at the sensation. You gazed into his eyes as you swallowed him whole. Holding your breath to stop yourself from gagging, you bobbed your head up and down his entire length, breathing through your nose as best you could. Zuko let out a drawn out moan, throwing his head back. You watched him, face hidden from your view, dark hair splayed out on the pillows. You knew exactly how to make your husband fall apart, and you loved every second. You dragged you tongue up his length, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking, hollowing your cheeks as you bobbed your head, focusing all your efforts where he was most sensitive.

Zuko had been reduced a mess above you, whining your name out and panting, begging you to bring him to orgasm. “Oh fuck baby.. just like that”, “youre doing so good baby”, “you look so pretty sucking my dick like this” were a few of the phrases he slurred, praising you as you pleased him exactly how he liked it. Your free hand came down to cup and rub his balls. Squeezing them gently in time with your bobbing head. You swallowed him down once more, choking against his length as you bobbed your head at his base, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You swallowed around him, sending him over the edge. Zuko took a deep breath as him came, his body going rigid as he spilled into your throat. A jumbled mess of curses and your name spilled from his lips as he drowned in bliss. Eventually you pulled off him, stroking his length to milk him for everything he had. Zuko shuddered, pushing your hand off him, feeling over stimulated. But if it was one thing your husband had, it was stamina. Giving himself a few seconds to recover, he was on you again. Flipping you on your back, he wasted no time situating himself between your legs, his flushed tip rubbing poking your skin and his hair curtaining around you as his body leaned over yours. You stared up into his eyes, so many different emotions swimming between you both. Longing, lust, and love. “I love you” he mumbled, leaning down to rub his nose against yours, kissing your lips sweetly. “I love you most, Zuko” you responded, lovingly placing your hand on his cheek, his pressed a kiss to your palm before leaning back up, taking his warmth with him. The loss was soon forgotten when you felt him enter you, your walls expanding to welcome him in. You let out a low moan, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer, deeper. His pace started out slow, rubbing his warm hands down your thighs as he rolled his hips into you, fucking you deep. “Zuko..” you sighed, his name seemingly being the only word your fuzzy brain can remember. “I know baby..” he leaned down towards you again, mouth pressing a kiss to your ear. “Just let me take care of you” he whispered, threading your hands together. His pace soon picked up, his hips meeting your thighs with every thrust. The weight of his body on yours felt amazing, the obscene sounds of your wetness filling the room and fueling his libido. Every thrust into your heat was filled with longing, the same desperation you had reflecting in him as he fucked you eagerly. You shuddered as your husband moaned into your ear, letting out strings of curses and praise as he lost himself in you. “Fuck baby.. i love you, i love how you feel” he slurred, reaching between your sweating bodies to rub at your clit, urging you to near your end. You cried out as you felt his dick beat against your g-spot. Your walls contracting around him, the pleasure in your core almost too much to bear.

The silky sheets under you felt suffocating, seemingly trapping the heat of your bodies. The sensations you felt becoming overwhelming. “Yes baby, yes!” You cried as he continuously hit that spot inside of you, his relentless pace driving you further and further over the edge. “You fuck me so good baby, oh fuck!”your voice reduced to whines, rolling your hips to meet his, fucking him back. “Let it out baby, give it all to me” Zuko grunted in your ear, his own release creeping up behind him. He rubbed your clit in fast circles, desperately chasing your release, as well as his. Your body went rigid as you came, the breath forced out of your lungs. Your walls squeezed and spasmed around Zuko, who bottomed out inside of you, releasing deep into your pussy. He let out a deep groan, his eyes shut tight and his eyebrow furrowed as he lost himself in pleasure. It was a sight to behold, and you considered yourself lucky to have it reserved just for you.

After a few heartbeats Zuko pulled out of you, grabbing one of the towels the maids made sure to leave on your night stand. He dipped it in the water basin, heating up his palm to warm the cloth. He cleaned you up, carefully wiping the mess up from between your legs, pulling the top sheet off the bed and throwing it somewhere on the floor. You sighed in contentment when you were in his arms again, he had taken the canopy down from its posts, the dark curtains blocking out the candle light in your room. Happiness surged through you as you snuggled into him, your back pressed to his bare chest as he tenderly pressed kisses to your shoulder blades. “That was amazing” you whispered, cuddling into his bicep and closing your eyes, enjoying the afterglow. “Yeah, it was” he murmured, wrapping his arm around your mid-section. “I’m sorry i’ve been so busy my love.” He sighed, pulling the discarded duvet over “like i said, its okay baby. Being Firelord isnt an easy job.. your nation comes first” you sleepily assured him, nodding off in the warmth of his embrace. “But you matter too..i promise i’ll make time for us. I’ll ask my advisors for more help. I’ll get through this as quick as i can” you smiled against him, bringing his hand up to press a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “Okay baby” you mumbled “i love you…” “ i love you too, y/n. So, so much” he whispered, putting out the candles in your room, tugging you closer to him. You slept peacefully that night, and in the morning your husband helped himself to another serving of you, just as he always had before.

Reblogs and notes appreciated :> hope you enjoyed!

Edited and final proofread; 04/28/24

[togamest]

-> 1,110 words. gn!reader, penetrative sex, alien genitalia if you squint, creampies, multiple orgasms, vash calls reader "flower, angel". subspace if you squint. based on this fan art.

author's notes: got a little too into fucking an eldritch deity last night. that fan art will haunt me for weeks. -> archiveofourown posting

you’ve seen this before.

you’ve sensed this before, this overwhelming feeling of dread and arousal. this feeling that grips you by anywhere it can latch on, refusing to let you escape. you just have to take it, and you love it. you know you do.

vash’s eyes are bright blue. they glow, enough for you to squint at him as he hovers over you, teeth barely poking past his lips.

“you okay, flower?” you hear him whisper. it sounds like a thousand voices at once, like him and every other rendition of him is speaking to you at once. somehow, despite the eeriness, it’s caring. empathetic, even. still so vash that even his blooming wings all over his body couldn’t deter you from squeezing your thighs around his tight waist.

“mhm.” there’s not much you can say right now. it feels exhausting to even voice words. “touch me, please?” your nails dig into his skin as you say it, and he shudders.

it’s like watching someone battle a demon, possessed inside of them. you can see it underneath his skin, bright cerulean veins glaring past the pale body that contains them. they pulse, and flash, and you’re in awe of it as he leans down to you, pressing your lips to his own.

he’s so warm. so bright, so pretty, everything you have ever wanted is right here in front of you. there’s a pulse within you, in time with his heartbeat gently beating in your ears; this close, you can feel his pulse in the very air. the beat…it’s gentle, but it’s all-encompassing.

it shoots through your whole body, and you arch your back, sighing as his hands move to your hips. “i’m gonna go in now, okay?” you hear him whisper. he sounds so far away, but so close at the same time.

you nod, and instantly, you feel something soaking wet pressing against you. sliding into you, so easily given how open you are for him. welcoming him in as if you were made for him.

it’s sickening how good it makes you feel. it’s bliss that you’ll never be able to replace; not that you want to. who would give up this beautiful eldritch deity in front of you, so kind as he spreads death to everything he touches?

except for you, it seems.

except for you.

your head falls back against the pillow behind your head. there’s sweat dripping on you, and your eyes slide open to meet vash’s own. bright blue, so deeply blue. like an ocean that’s begging you to drown in. your hands wrap around his neck, and you see his jaw set.

like he’s holding back.

“you can move, darling. let go.” your voice is so small against the sound of his pulsing and the cacaphony of voices intertwining his own as he groans, looking down at where you’re conjoined. his fists sink into the bedsheets on either side of your head.

you agreed to this.

sometimes you just have to remind him.

“fuck.”

the single syllable slams into your body like it resonates with your very soul. you’re shell shocked, your arousal tight in your stomach so quickly you haven’t noticed as you feel him begin to move. your walls squelch around him; but you’re not listening. instead, you’re staring up at vash, watching the sweat drip off his face as he bares his teeth, eyes screwed shut.

“god, fuck, god. you feel so good. better than anything i have ever had. holy shit.”

his voice shakes as he drops swear after swear, rhythm picking up. he’s slamming against that one spot inside of you now, and you feel your release building. your eyes screw shut. you know it. you have to tell him. you have to—

“g-gonna—“

your hand on his shoulder, digging into his skin, is covered with something much warmer. vash’s hands have disappeared from your waist, one rubbing circles onto your hand and the other gently grabbing your chin. your eyes fall open once again, and you find yourself falling into the oceanic depths.

“come for me, angel.”

all you remember after this is gushing. flooding all over him, your body twitching and shuddering in his hands as he drills into you, carrying you through your orgasm. you may have imagined it, but you almost see his tongue hanging out of his mouth. like he’s drinking in your orgasm with everything he has, not just the squirt covering his entire pelvis. like he’s drinking in the very air. taking advantage of the sloppiness to claim your sweet little hole.

you’re babbling now, grabbing at the sheets. all you can say is his name. it’s all you know now. “f-f-fuck, vash, vash—“

“yeah, angel?” there’s that pet name again. your walls slam around him, clamping down on him as another orgasm wracks through your body, sobs and moans hitching in your throat. “you’re taking me so well. so much better than anyone else. you’re meant for this, you know. you belong to me. only me, okay?”

you nod. you don’t remember forcing your head to nod, but you react with muscle memory instead. you can feel him grinning at you as your head lolls on the bedsheets, drool dripping down your chin.

“i’m gonna fill you up, okay? gonna fill this sweet hole for you, make sure you know who you belong to.”

he says it so kindly but so filthy, it’s insane how you twitch and moan underneath him, feeling his warm cum fill you up. sticky essence sticks to your walls, locking him inside of you as he all but collapses on top of you. he slides onto his side almost immediately, bringing you close. tour lips land on his shoulder. you suck on his skin without even thinking. there’s a ripple of muscle underneath your lips.

“so pretty.” it’s all you can think of as you release your hold on his shoulder, falling a bit in front of him and looking up at him. the blue has faded, but still gleams in the dark. no longer blinding, but comforting. his eyes are so pretty, and your hand lands on his cheek, tracing the pads of your fingers against his cheekbone.

“says you.” his voice rumbles, not as cacaphonic as it was before. his hand is so much larger than you, nails still quite long as his hand covers your own. the warmth from him is cozy, finding your eyes battling sliding shut. you want to memorize him. just in this moment, in the aftermath of the kind ferocity you’d just dealt with.

“sleep, flower. we’ll talk tomorrow.”

and who are you to argue?

divider credit: @/cafekitsune networks: @interstellar-inn @themovingcastlez

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© togamest 2023-2024

[thef1diary]

moving along by 5sos, charles leclerc, angst?? ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Thinking ‘Bout You | C. Leclerc

Summary: you and Charles lived in the same building, so it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did seeing you again after breaking up.

Warnings: angst, heartbreak.

Pairing: charles x ex!fem!reader

wc: 2.3k+

Charles sighed, turning the alarm off before covering his face with the blanket as he tried to get some more sleep.

Thinking 'bout you lots, lately

He pulled it off as soon it as got too suffocating, and begrudgingly looked to the empty side of the bed.

It had been empty for far too long, a few weeks went by without it being occupied by you.

He turned onto his stomach, reaching his hand out to graze the bedsheet on the other side. He grabbed the pillow you used to sleep on and brought it close to his face.

He could still smell the faint scent of your shampoo even after washing it once. Inhaling sharply, he threw the pillow off the bed before groaning.

As he closed his eyes, he was disturbed by the sound of his phone ringing. He knew it wasn't you, but a small part of him hoped that you'd call.

It was his trainer, asking if he had followed his morning routine but Charles easily lied and said he followed every step but in reality he was still in bed.

His trainer sighed, knowing how difficult it was dealing with Charles after his breakup. Usually it wasn't like this, but you weren't just anyone, you were his everything.

Knowing that if he stayed in the comfort of his sheets, he'd only reminisce the memories he made with you, so he decided to finally get up.

Have you been eating breakfast alone like me?

He wandered to the kitchen after freshening up but it didn't change his appearance much. The dark bags underneath his eyes along with the small frown that made its way to his face permanently remained the same.

He remembered how you used to stand in the kitchen, wearing one of his shirts that you accidentally stole, making breakfast that was definitely not approved by his trainer.

If he stared any longer at the empty space, his mind would play tricks on him and conjure up a dream that looked too real.

Thinking 'bout you lots, lately

He closed his eyes and rubbed them, ensuring that he wouldn't hallucinate your presence. Maybe, it was because of the lack of sleep he's been getting lately.

He had no one to blame but himself, as he had gotten used to you too quickly and it would take a while before those habits would start to disperse.

With you, even something as mundane as making breakfast was the best start to Charles' morning, but now it's the beginning to the worst days.

As he walked over to the fridge to grab some eggs, he paused, shaking his head. "Fuck this,"

He chose to grab a fruit instead so at least he had some proper nutrients and wouldn't be lectured on his eating habits.

Is it bad that I'm hoping that you're broken?

He made his way onto the sofa, in a half sitting half lying down position. He tossed his apple in the air before catching it, pretending as if it were a ball.

There were many thoughts haunting his mind, but only one stuck out to him the most. He wondered how you were, better or worse.

He kind of hoped that you were in a similar position as him, thinking of him as much as he thought of you.

Is it bad that I'm wishing you're still broken?

This had become his routine a few days after he had broken up with you, once the realization set in that you were no longer someone he'd be seeing everyday.

The first few days, his friends had taken him out to enjoy the 'single life', whatever that meant. But he did enjoy it. There was no one waiting at home for him and for some reason he liked that because he wasn't obliged to return at a reasonable time.

That you haven't found fish in the ocean

However, once he began waking up alone, missing out on the morning kisses and hugs, he realized that he had let you go.

His phone rang again, but this time he didn't even bother looking at who was calling, knowing who it'd be based on the time.

Everyday, Pierre would call at the same time just to check up on him. But by now, their conversations were so bland because he barely put effort into his responses.

He only wanted to be left alone, but ironically, he never wanted to know what it was like to be alone without you.

Is it bad? So bad

He had no idea how you were doing. But if he did, he might have felt a little better knowing he wasn't the only one in a bad mood following the breakup.

While you didn't look as bad as he did, you felt just as worse. You had already taken a few days off of work, but it was more than enough time spent sulking over him.

Truth is, you had understood the situation and accepted it better than he had. Since it wasn't exactly a mutual breakup, there was nothing you could've done to convince him otherwise.

He had already made up his mind.

While you thought he had fallen out of love with you, he was blaming himself for letting the love of his life walk away.

Is it weird that I'm drunk and on my sofa?

Charles' gaze fixated on the cabinet that held a few bottles of both yours and his choice of alcohol. He wasn't a day drinker—in fact he rarely drank unless he was celebrating—but if anyone asked, he would deny it. However, lately he had been grabbing a bottle without caring of the time.

He played some music, connecting to the speaker that you gifted him. He didn't have the heart to get rid of the things you had forgotten to take with you.

Opening the cabinet he grabbed a bottle without looking but he bypassed the glass, choosing to drink straight from the bottle.

As he spent time on his phone, which was something he rarely did, he didn't notice how much alcohol he was consuming.

Is it weird that I'm naked on my sofa?

As he was about to put his phone away, he got a notification from Instagram. When you began dating, he had turned on notifications for your account whenever you posted something. After all, he wanted to be the first to like your posts, even if he'd seen the image before you posted it because you always asked for his opinion.

Without thinking twice, he tapped on it, bringing your latest story on his screen.

It was a simple photo of the city, a view you had from your office but the words you added with the photo piqued his interest.

You had finished your long work day which made Charles check the time. He had sat on the couch sulking the entire day.

He knew you so well that he was certain you had posted the photo a few minutes after you had taken it. It was a habit that Charles told you to change, especially because he was concerned for your safety in case something bad happened.

However, right now, he was glad you didn't change, because he knew you were on the way home.

The thing was, you lived in the same building as him but you had moved into his apartment when you were dating.

All alone, damn, I wish I didn't know ya

Charles wanted to see you again, and even living nearby made it impossible due to his constant travels for work.

He stood up, ready to make his way towards the door but he stopped, finally realizing what he was about to do. You were no longer with him, heck, he's the one who ended it, but he was just so desperate to see a glimpse of you again.

You were so, so important to him but now he wished he never knew you because you occupied every thought of his.

Is it weird? So weird

Maybe he should leave the building just so he doesn't come in contact with you. He would have stayed at home, but knowing you were on your way back and living nearby, it became unbearable to stay.

Nodding once, he left his apartment. Although he slightly swayed while walking, he wasn't drunk or at least he'd like to tell himself that.

Once he entered the elevator, he placed his hands behind him on the metal bar while his head rested on the mirror.

I know I'm the stupid one who ended it

The entirety of your relationship flashed through his mind, the good, the bad, even the worst moments that he once thought were a good idea. Like breaking up with you. He laughed at himself as he wondered why on earth he ever thought being away from you was a good idea.

“I want to focus on my career, I don’t want any distractions plus I think we’d be better off without each other.” He recalled his reasons for breaking up.

And now I'm the stupid one regretting it

You were never his distraction, you were his biggest supporter. And fuck, why would he be better off without you, he doesn’t even know why he had to add that sentence.

He reached the ground floor and the doors opened but he was too consumed by his thoughts that he almost forgot to notice.

As he brought his arm out to stop the door from closing, he heard a voice—a very familiar voice.

“Pouvez-vous tenir la porte, s'il vous plaît?” You called out, rushing to enter the elevator, barely making it. (Can you hold the door please?)

I've been thinking about you lots, lately

“Merci,” you called out to the person who held the door open for you. However, you didn’t look up at them yet because you were attempting to grasp onto your bag, a purse, an umbrella and your phone all at once.

It was when Charles whispered your name you looked at him. He was in just as much shock as you, making direct eye contact.

It was too late for him to leave the elevator, it had already began going up to your floor, which was a few levels above his. He could’ve chosen to press the button for his floor, or even the next level to leave the elevator as fast as possible.

Instead, he chose to stay, watching your eyes flick over and away from him quickly, as if you were trying to decide whether to avoid him or not.

However, you chose to indulge in a conversation, especially after smelling the horrible scent of alcohol surrounding him.

Oh, are you moving along?

"Are you drunk?" You asked even though you knew the answer. He was slightly swaying around as the elevator kept going up, but he held on to the bar to stabilize himself.

He almost looked offended at your question, either because you thought so low of him to assume he was drunk or because that was the first question you asked him after your breakup.

"I might've had a drink or two" he decides, unsure whether to tell you the truth. Something he never had to think twice about before.

"You smell like you had the whole bottle, I know you Charles,” you stated, but once you saw Charles wince at your last few words, you felt the same emotions roll through you when you walked out of his apartment for the last time.

Is it wrong if I ask you to come over?

"That's the problem, you know me, so how did you let me tell you to leave?" He countered, shaking his head and wanting to blame you for his mistakes.

"What did you want me to do, stay?" You asked, scoffing when he nodded, “yes"

"I can't, you know that,” you turned away from his burning gaze, or you might just let him back in your life. “Why not? Je t'aime toujours, I can never stop loving you.” (I still love you)

Is it wrong if I tell ya that I love ya?

You were glad that you turned away otherwise he’d see you cracking through your tough exterior. You never imagined that your first meeting would be in an elevator, unplanned.

You watched the numbers on the digital screen go up, only a few more floors until yours. “You were right you know, I think we're better off without each other."

You didn’t want to repeat his words back to him, but since you had turned to look at him, you saw how those words affected him. Just like how it affected you when he first said them.

His eyes widened, his hands gripping the metal bar to ground himself. Out of all the thoughts he had running through his mind, he never thought about what he would feel if you acted the way you did.

He should’ve expected it, but he was too optimistic. Now, his own optimism would be the reason for another heartbreak, perhaps worse this time.

The elevator dinged before the door began opening, and he remained in his spot as you began walking out. His mind screamed at him to say something, anything but you spoke before he could.

“I just want you to know, I’m moving out of here—well out of Monaco. I don’t think I’ll see you again, and I’m hoping you understand and not try to contact me anymore. Goodbye Charles.”

As the doors closed again after you walked out, he felt as if the door to the opportunity of you returning was slammed shut in his face.

[blackdollette]

A&W. - euronymous

✩♬.ᐟ now playing: a&w. - did you know that theres a tunnel under ocean blvd?

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: this is the experience of being an american whore...

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp @auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart

female!reader x r!euronymous

word count: 896

contents: porn without plot, public sex, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, smoking, a little spanking

a harsh slap landed on your bruised ass as euronymous ruthlessly pounded into you from behind, the loud bass of his rehearsal breaking into your lewd thoughts. you sobbed into your pillow as he grabbed your hips, roughly shoving himself in and out of you as Forensic Files played on the television in the same room that his bandmates were playing. 

he groaned deeply as he buried himself deep in your tight hole, his calloused fingers digging into your sore hips. “that’s my princess… my little whore.” you didn’t know how you got into this position. having terror incarnated fuck you on the floor of the hotel that held three other people. it was humiliating, really. showing up at the door in the tight little dark dress that hung too low at the chest and just barely covered your ass. you would always be eye candy for whichever one of his friends decided to open the door.

the cycle would repeat itself every day. he would be practicing for a show, he’d get bored and call you up to drink with him, and then somehow you always found yourself laying in the same sweaty bedsheets with his naked body cradling your own after a night of sin. as he laid his head on your bare chest, your fingers tangling through his long, dark hair you thought about how you didn’t even need anyone to love you anymore. but in the end it didn’t really matter. 

your mind snapped back to reality, euronymous’ strained whimpers growing more laboured by each passing second. his cock twitched inside of you as he forced himself to keep his composure, but his thrusts were becoming sloppier and you could’ve sworn that his eyes were glossing over. 

he flipped you over and pressed himself into your trembling body, your legs wrapping around his waist as hot, sticky fluid began to drip from your hole. you screamed out, not bothering to keep your voice down anymore. the echoing sound of sticky skin slapping and lewd moans surely notified the entire building of you and euronymous’ activities. you could see the pale shadows from under the door, seeing that his friends were listening through it, wishing they could join the fun. you felt like a whore, your panties slung to one corner of the room and your bra at the opposite, hanging from the open window sill.

“damnit..! i-i’m fuckin’ cumming, baby!” euronymous slammed into you, breaking your walls and turning you into a mindless, gushy mess. you couldn’t process a single thought as the feeling of his thumb on your clit and him poking and prodding at your nipples sent you to what felt like heaven. he tossed his head back in ecstasy as white hot cum poured from his swollen tip, filling you up to the brim until your were spilling out all around him.

slurred moans slipped from your parted lips so he took the opportunity to shove his fingers into your mouth, making you lick your own cum off your fingers. he pushed himself all the way into you, groaning with satisfaction. “yeah… see how good you taste on my fingers, baby…” he stirred his cock in your gummy walls, feeling himself get overstimulated.

he pulled himself out of you, pumping his length and shooting the last few strings of cum onto your stomach. you laid on your back, panting as you came down from your high, but you knew it wasn’t over yet. 

he sank down a little until he was face to face with your glistening pussy. “such a pretty little pussy you’ve got.” he cooed, giving your cunt a few slaps and drawing up thick threads of gooey cum from your hole. he got right to business, bringing his mouth to your dripping slit and sloppily making out with the honey between your legs. 

you screamed with pure bliss, grabbing a handful of his hair as he hungrily lapped up all your delicious drops. your legs clammed shut around his head but he forced them open again, taking advantage of your weakening limbs. he stuffed a finger into your hole, pumping it in and out and watching as you coated his hand with your liquids. 

his motions were hypnotic, sending you to a universe that you never wanted to return from. your legs began to tremble as you felt another orgasm tearing through your body. your gut tightened as your pussy throbbed against his long tongue, your vision going blurry as you finally reached your climax. 

you wrapped your legs around his head, surely suffocating him. but this felt like heaven to him. a waterfall of hot liquid squirted out of you, spraying all over his face as your body submitted to the pleasure. euronymous drank you up, not letting a single drop go to waste as his face dripped with your warm fluid. your heart raced as you recollected yourself, panting as he wrapped his arms around your body and set you on the bed. he sat beside you, lighting himself a cigarette and offering you a drag. he watched your lips wrap around it, staring at you predatorily as you exhaled a thin ribbon of smoke.

and just like that, he was hard again. you were in for a second round and couldn’t even decline it. this was the experience of being an american whore.

author's note: my mental breakdown is over!! 🥳

[piratefishmama]

I Wish | Part 2

Two sharp claps woke Eddie that following morning.

Followed by the whirring sound of some kind of motor, and then gradually, sunlight.

Sunlight travelled up his face until it hit his eyes directly, lighting up all the little veins behind his eyelids that nobody ever really wanted to see but no matter which way he shoved his head into the pillow, and he did try left and right…

He couldn’t dodge the sunlight.

“Wakey Wakey rockstar!” He was awake. Wide awake, sat up very straight very quickly and then everything felt very wrong when his world spun and— “awh shit Eddie, not again. Hold it! Don’t you dare, not until I—” chunks hit the floor about two seconds before a bucket would have been in place to catch it all. The shockingly red bucket held frozen in place where it’d failed to reach him. “Get there.”

Whoever that was sounded so disappointed.

Eddie had no idea why, but he felt like death. The sunlight hurt his eyes, and his head ached like he’d been hit by a brick wall, not him walking into one, no, one falling on him.

“Ngghhh” he groaned, before spitting what remained in his mouth out into the bucket, for what it was worth.

“What did you do last night, Eddie?” Eddie lifted his head up slowly, trying not to agitate his throbbing headache any more than it already was. With squinted eyes, he struggled to make out the person in front of him, but even when his focus returned, he couldn’t place exactly who the guy was, nor… where he was.

The room he was in was… large.

A huge open space with beige walls sparsely decorated by what looked like gaudy hotel art, he didn’t recognise the bedsheets either, softer than his usual ones, and when he finally found his eyes able to focus against the harsh direct light of the windows, with his hand shielding them a little, the large floor to ceiling windows of his room looked out across a city skyline.

“Who… who’re you?” That was apparently the wrong thing to say. Mystery guy didn’t look too impressed.

“Are you kidding me? Who—who am I? That’s how bad it is? You’re so fucked up you’ve forgotten me this time? I swear to god every fucking time Eddie. Every single goddamn time it’s like this and you just—I keep falling for it!!” Every pitchy hike of that voice had Eddie wincing back “What excuse will it be this time Eddie? It was just ‘one last time?’ Or what about your greatest hit ‘everyone else was doing it’, or maybe you’ll just wave it away like it doesn’t even matter? What did you even take?!” Eddie just wanted to hide, he wanted to hide under the mystery covers, away from this loud person who seemed to know him but…

Eddie was still drawing a blank.

The last thing he remembered, the last thing he clearly remembered, was being in the trailer after coming home from the faire, he remembered… he remembered—

“Where’s… where’s Stephan?” He remembered the Genie.

“Stephan? Who the fuck is Stephan? Are you—motherfucker are you cheating on me?! Who the FUCK is Stepha—” the bedroom door opened, cutting off the mystery mans tirade before Eddie could think too deeply about the idea of cheating on someone he didn’t even know, and like straight out of some kind of sit com, in walked the man himself.

All that was missing was an audience cheer track.

“I’m Stephan, Louie. Please get out.” ‘Louie’ straightened up, face seemingly set into a permanent scowl, he’d have probably been attractive if Eddie’s first encounter with him wasn’t that.

“Steve? Where the hell have you been?! You let him get like thi—”

“Get out Louie, or I remove you.” Arms crossed over broad chest, frame tall, broad, his attire less like it was in the trailer, now he wore a simple white button down and a pair of black slacks. Imposing despite its simplicity. “And make no mistake I will remove you.” He added, tone just as firm as his stance, Louie faltered, resolve quickly crumbling under that impressive presence.

“Fine, but I’m done with this. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t support him like this, so… please have my things sent to my apartment in Chicago. I’m finished.” And out he went, without even so much as a backwards glance to the deeply confused man still in bed, door slammed behind him leaving him alone with ‘Steve’.

“…Stephan?”

“Yeah, Eddie?”

“What the fuck is going on?” The outfit melted away, replaced with a glittering twinkle of a stereotypical magical effect, by the peasant garb he’d worn in the trailer. It was him.

He was real.

Stephan, or… Steve. Steve was easier, he was going to use Steve. Steve offered him his best attempt at an apologetic smile, before approaching to sit on the edge of the bed. “World fame, big shot. You’re lucky I didn’t dump you mid-way through one of your gigs, or worse, last night. Sorry but this was the uh… lesser of many evils. You’re currently in LA staying at a hotel midway through a press tour to advertise your new album, and that… was Louie. Your boyfriend of… three months now? Underwear model, definitely too young for you, I never approved but hey, who listens to the Genie? Nobody, because you’re all too ‘metal’ to listen to the Genie.”

That was… so much information at once. The room still felt like it was spinning, Louie had left the bucket on the floor next to the throw up. Eddie kind of wanted to throw up again. He couldn’t even process the ‘boyfriend’ thing.

“Can… can I wish to feel better?” He was almost proud of himself for coming up with that one.

“Sure you can.”

“I wish I felt better.” A snap of Steve’s fingers, and all those aches, all those pains, the headache the nausea the spinning, it all just. Vanished. Kind of disorientating but, for less than a second, and he was fine. Clear as a whistle, never felt better than he did in that moment. “Holy shit…” Steve smiled. He was prettier than Louie when he smiled.

“You’re welcome. Listen Eddie… I’ve basically disguised myself as your bodyguard in this reality, I exist as a normal person in your life, your band know me, your friends know me, I will be there in all realities we walk through together in some way shape or form. But this one… this one is tricky.”

“Can I wish for the throw up to be gone cause it’s starting to smell.”

“Go ahead.”

“I wish the throw up was gone.” Another snap, both the vomit, and the bucket were gone “oooh bucket too, you overachiever” Steve snorted a little laugh, shaking his head, making his softly coifed bangs sway lightly. “Where were you when I needed to clean my room last month?”

“Please be serious, Eddie, only for a moment.” Eddie settled in the bed, hands in his lap, totally fixed on Steve. Then he noticed he had new tattoos on his hands and suddenly that was way more interesting. As were the tattoos up his arms, a whole sleeve, no. Both sleeves! He looked down at his chest, MORE tattoos, and— Steve grabbed the covers before he could lift them to check his lower half. “Eddie.” Oop. The tone was firm, not quite as intimidating as the one Steve had used on Louie, but… Eddie stilled.

“I’m listening big guy.”

“You wished for world fame, that your band were to become world famous. That does not happen in a blink of an eye, Eddie. Not even by magic. That happens with years of experience, of effort, it happens with dive bars, basement, and garage gigs, it happens with multiple awful record deals that limit and exploit you until you find something that works, it takes nearly breaking apart, it takes, and it takes, and it takes, but what it takes the most of… is time. Eddie. It takes time.” And wasn’t that sobering.

He looked at his hands again. Saw the weathered lines amidst the tattoos for the first time.

Steve didn’t stop him this time from looking beneath the covers, there were more tattoos, way more than he remembered having, but there were lines where lines shouldn’t be, scars where scars shouldn’t be, there were wrinkles in places he was too young to have wrinkles in. Weathered.

He looked weathered.

Steve could only be sympathetic about it, could only appear softened, like he knew this would be tough, but he couldn’t really do anything about it.

“…How much time, Steve?” His fingers gripped the covers tight, he could feel his heart in his throat, thumping away faster as anxiety skyrocketed. He was older. His wish was world fame he didn’t think about anything other than that. It wasn’t even supposed to work Steve was supposed to just be some crazy homeless person who walked in from the cold.

He wasn’t supposed to be real.

“About thirty years?” Eddie pinched himself again on autopilot. It hurt. Silently, he threw his covers off of himself, and stood, the room didn’t spin like it had been earlier and nothing hurt like before, Steve’s magic working like a charm. Still silent, he crossed the room to the bathroom, turned on the light, and found himself looking at… a stranger.

No. It was still him. But he was struck with the thought of why someone like Louie, youthful and handsome as he’d been even in his anger, would want something like him? Wrinkled skin, bags under his eyes, his body slimmer than it ever ought to be and his hair… still long and badly maintained, but now peppered with streaks of grey. “What…” his voice croaked, his hand lifting to rub at the loose skin of his cheeks. Gaunt. Weathered. “What happened to me?”

“Addiction mainly.” Steve was there, behind him in the doorway, close but not touching. Never touching. He held a robe in his hand.

“I don’t do—”

“Mmm… you didn’t… not at first. You smoked but… drugs were more a business venture to you than a vice, right?” Absently, Eddie nodded. He’d dealt his fair share of weed, so what? How had he gone from dealer to— “one of those record labels that didn’t fit. You see… it’s easy to keep a band relevant and making money, when they’re always making headlines, good or bad, it doesnt matter, getting publicly trashed makes some people more money than it loses. Coupled with heartbreak, encouragement, and easy access… impulse control was never your strong suit, was it?” He spoke like he knew him. Maybe he did, Steve had said a genie knew its master, right? “World fame has its dark side. There’s no gain without some form of suffering, Eddie, especially when the gain is as gigantic as world fame.”

“Can—can I go back?”

“Of course you can, you need only wish it. However… I don’t think you should though. Not yet. This is jarring, seeing yourself like this, it’s incredibly jarring, however… you asked for world fame and haven’t even experienced it. Just a small downside. Why don’t you live the day, think of it as an opportunity to experience what this is like, maybe it’ll help you achieve some goals in your own time.” Eddie’s eyes returned to his own reflection, taking it in…

He kind of looked like Wayne. There were worse people he could look like in his older years, especially since people had always claimed he looked like his father. But no... he looked like Wayne. He took some comfort in that.

“…Will it be safe?” Steve regarded him with silence for a moment, just long enough for Eddie to understand. “Nothing’s ever totally safe, is it?”

“No, it’s not. But as your bodyguard I’ll be as close as I can at all times. You don’t need to ask if you can wish it either, if you want to go home, just wish it, and it’ll be done, alright?” Steve stepped forwards into Eddie’s space, and carefully draped the robe over his bare shoulders as Eddie nodded his acknowledgement and pulled the robe tighter around himself, Steve’s hands still there, a pleasantly warm and grounding weight on his shoulders. “Now you should shower, and get yourself dressed. You have a few things to do today so I’ll be waiting outside to take you to your first thing once you’re ready.”

Eddie was almost scared to ask. “Which is?”

“Breakfast of course, but then you’re taping a talk show so chop chop!”

Two quick claps in succession and Steve was off, headed for the door to give him some privacy as if he hadn’t just seen Eddie completely nude, ignoring the sharp, “A what?!” That followed from the bathroom as he exited the suite.

Part 4

[wildemaven]

saturdays with javier : unconditional | javier peña

-> pairing: javier peña x f!reader

-> word count: 1744

-> content warnings: 18+ blog; soft smut, kissing, coffee consumption, lots of fluff, baby cows, mentions reader wears a necklace, zero descriptive features of reader, established relationship

-> notes: what was once known as Coffee, Cows & Cock. The final title nowhere close to that lol This was just another random thought and another excuse to write in some cute baby cows. Big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey who not only coined the CCC title, but helped cheer me on and beta this as well!!

series masterlist / main masterlist

“Amor, it’s time to get up.” His voice is low and warm against your ear, mindful of the early hour and the way sleep is still so firmly wrapped around your listless self. 

“Mmm, Javi. It’s too early, let’s stay in bed a little longer.” You manage to say, turning your body towards Javier, where he is laying next to you on top of the disheveled bed sheets.

You’re not a morning person per say. At least not if you don’t have to be. Sleep is a sacred function, especially when your husband delivers mind blowing evenings night after night. Sleep is needed. You rise with the sun and start your mornings together. But on a rare occasion, you will wake while the moon is still shining dutifully, bidding it a farewell as you begin your day at an ungodly hour. 

“Against my better judgment, I’m ignoring your plea for more sleep, so time to get moving if we want to beat the sun. The minute we get back, you can crawl back under these covers— I might even join you.” His alluring words murmured against your bare shoulder, the softest kisses in their wake. 

You hold him close. Fingers tangling in his freshly washed hair, smelling of the citrusy mint shampoo you recently bought him— finally running out of his all-in-one bar of soap. He pulls back to look down where you’re still lying comfortably among the heap of pillows. Your hand settles on Javier’s cheek, the coarse stubble is rough and resistant as your palm rests against his cheek— he must have opted out of shaving at this early hour. 

“Promise you’ll join me when we get back and you have yourself a deal, Javi.” 

“Te promeso, mi amor.” His lips mold over yours, sealing his promise with the softest kiss. A promise he’s sure to keep, but he has other plans for the time being. 

Javier works well under pressure. Years and years of elaborate training and risky operations requiring quick thinking on the ground, has made him proficient in his ability to do things in a timely manner with exquisite detail and stunning results. 

Instincts thrum through you. Your body is well versed in the way your husband is capable of pulling you apart— even when sleep is still within reach. Giving yourself fully to his control and allowing yourself to feel every single breath, kiss and graze of his mouth over every curve of you. 

Bedsheets thrown from your body, the cool air of your bedroom is like ice on your skin— a devastating paired with the warmth of Javier’s body over yours. Your legs fall open, welcoming him, a silent plea for him to give you all of him— fully and completely. 

It’s astounding how Javier has the ability to bring you to life. His voice, all smoky and smooth, dances across your dewy skin. His nose pressed to your cheek. Praise pouring from him as he continues to worship you. Beautiful. Perfect. Amazing. 

Javier is all consuming. From the way he makes your toes curl to the way your leg muscles tense as he hits that heavenly spot within you, every bit of him is intoxicating. All you can think about is him— Javier, your everything. 

Before you’re even able to realize it, he has you both free falling. Bodies brimming with a satiated bliss. I love you’s exchanged silently as he kisses you breathless. His body vibrating and warm under your fingertips. 

“Mmm, that was just what I needed to wake up.” You humm against his plush lips. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling more awake.” He kisses you gently. “Time to get up and get this cute ass moving now. I’ve got coffee waiting for us in a thermos. Go get dressed, Amor, so we can get on the road.” 

*

Minutes after Javier has left to warm up the truck, you’ve managed to extricate yourself from bed. You quickly brush your teeth and wash your face, you’re throwing on a comfy pair of Levi’s, a Sherpa lined denim jacket over your thick thermal shirt, some wool socks and your well-worn brown boots. You make sure to grab your camera and a few rolls of film before you’re heading out the door. 

As promised, there’s a thermos of coffee waiting for you in the cup holder when you slide onto the bench seat of Javier’s old pickup truck. Javier is sipping from his own coffee as you settle in, then places it in the holder next to yours. “You’re too far away, Querida. Scooch over here.” He pats at the open leathered space between you. A gentle kiss to your temple as he pulls the lever down to drive, once you’ve reached the spot right next to him. His right hand settles between the warmth of your thighs and rests there as he heads in the direction of the ranch. 

There’s a comfortable silence in the cab of the truck. Your head finds a spot against Javier’s shoulder as you gaze out the windshield. The familiar road is still recognizable even under the dark morning sky. 

There’s a slight jostle, and the truck rolls to a stop. “Baby, wake up. We’re here.” Javier whispers, the arm you had been sleeping on coming up to wrap around your shoulder. 

“Sorry, Javi. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep.” Your eyes slowly open, your shoulders scrunching up to ease the ache in your back from the awkward sleeping position. 

“It’s a good thing you’re my favorite sleepy passenger.” His hand tilts your face towards him, his lips softly molding over yours briefly. “I’ve got to get the gate. Save my spot?” 

“Always.” You beam at him, watching as he climbs out and opens the large metal gate and entrance to the Peña Ranch. 

It’s not long before he’s back and the truck is heading down the dirt road. The headlights guide the truck to its final resting spot for the morning. Beneath the giant old tree that still sits on the back side of the ranch. The tree where you had exchanged your vows, now a regular visiting spot for the both of you.

It’s not nearly as dark as it was when you left your house. The sky now a light blue as the sun slowly starts drifting up over the hills. The light fog slowly burns off, making the pasture a bit more visible.

“How many are there now?” You ask in between another round of sips of your warm coffee. 

“Pops and I counted 10 yesterday. Wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a few more this morning.” He grabs for your thermos, having drunk the entirety of his while you were sleeping, you hand it over as you continue to watch the herd of cows in front of you. 

The newest calves joined the Peña ranch over the last few days and you had been begging Javier to bring you this weekend. In the distance you notice a few little heads pop up above the brush line, awake and ready for their morning milk. Their little legs still not quite acclimated to being earth side as they try to make their way to their mamas, who were enjoying tuffs of the dry grass as they waited for their young to join them. 

Pulling out your camera, you start snapping a few pictures through the window. The tree’s canopy perfectly framing above and the heard off in the distance with a wash of pinks and yellows as the sun finally crests the hilltop. Javier watches you take it all in, his elbow propped against the window of the driver's door, nursing the rest of your coffee. 

“This was worth it. Thank you for the early morning wake up and bringing me to see them.” You settle back into the seat. 

“There might be something else for you in the glovebox.” You sit up, turning to look fully at Javier who's got a handsome smirk on his face. 

“Javier. What do you mean there’s something else in the glovebox for me? I thought we agreed on no gifts this year.” You should have known he wouldn’t adhere to the agreement the moment he agreed to it. 

He gives you a nonchalant shrug and smile that makes you feel like you won the lottery with him— sometimes you can’t believe he’s yours. His arm draped casually over the back of the seat, his chin slightly raised and pointing in the direction of the glovebox.”

You open the small metal door on the truck dashboard. There, sitting on top of the truck's registration and insurance papers, is a small box. You grab it and sit back against Javier, before opening it. You look back at him again, his brown eyes filled with pure adoration and love for you. 

When you lift the lid, you find a small gold pendant and chain. 

“It’s a locket— it belonged to my Mamá.” He says, watching as you delicately remove it from the box. 

It’s a heart shaped locket, etched with intricate details of a flower. You turn it over in your hand, admiring it entirely. When it hinges open, you find a tiny picture of you and Javier on your wedding day already nestled into one of the slots. 

“It’s beautiful, Javi.” Wiping the few tears that have littered your cheeks. 

“I know how much you like that picture. I left the other one open for you to choose.” His hand rests at the base of your neck, thumb gently kneading over your skin. 

“Thank you. I love it so much.” You hand it to him so he can secure it around your neck. You tuck it into your thermal, where it perfectly rests next to your heart. 

You turn in the seat, your hand cupping the side of his face, you pull him to you for a kiss. His hand cradles the back of your head as the kiss lingers for a few minutes. 

“Happy Anniversary, Javi. Now take me home. I think someone promised to crawl back in bed with me.” He kisses you one last time as he turns the key and the engine comes to life. His hand settles back on your thighs, close just how he likes you. 

You don’t know what you did to deserve this life with Javier, to be loved so unconditionally by him, but you’re grateful for another year together and looking forward to many more. 

[mangoshorthand]

Senseless | Five Hargreeves/ GN Reader 1.3k words, Rated T/M (Steamy but not explicit).

Hello lovelies. Not a request but a little something I whacked out in a couple of hours after listening to a certain song. I will give you a cookie if you can guess which one😉. We have angst and a slightly toxic relationship. I'll warn you know, like the song that inspired it, this fic is kinda campy...

He was an unstoppable force and you an immovable object; it was fire and ice; you were each the red rag and each the bull. Static always crackled between you, even in the quiet times, the lightning ever ready to strike. 

You’d clung together as if drowning, each using the other in an effort to claw their way to the surface, though only succeeding in dragging yourselves down faster. You were drawn together by mutual brokenness and mutual need into this torrid, hurricane of a thing between you. 

You and he were like a room full of noisy machines: Discordant hums and whines creating a horrid, unbearable, nails-on-a-chalkboard din.

There were lies. There were fights and threats and harsh words. A look of rage or hurt filling his face could fill your heart with savage pleasure, and yet whenever you thought you’d given him a fatal wound, he could always turn right around and gouge an even deeper one into you, and then he would be the one enjoying the effects of his cruel tongue. 

He didn’t need to use the door, but the last time he stormed out of your apartment, he slammed it anyway.

So now he was just time you’d wasted long ago. For all you knew, he was dead, and you were proud to say you hadn’t cried a single tear over him. He’d chosen to leave, after all. He’d chosen to throw himself back into the chaos of his old life. He’d chosen that, knowing full well that it was that or you. 

So you burned his love notes, washed his scent out of your bedsheets and purged any hint of him from your life. You’d built yourself back up, somehow. 

Through a dozen changing seasons you’d long ago frozen and sweat him out of your system. He was gone, and gone for good. You didn’t waste your time thinking about him; any memory of him, on the rare occasions they occurred, was quickly pushed away and ignored until you’d all but forgotten him.

Alongside him, you were drowning, and without him you’d reached shore.

***

This should have been a night like any other.

You lay wide awake in bed, listening to the wind buffet and bluster against the window, blowing the rain into the glass with hail-like force.

Sleep evaded you. It had been a whole week of fruitless tossing and turning, in fact. For some reason your mind was on high alert.

A chill went through you despite your blankets. The dark seemed impenetrable tonight. Dense and pregnant, as if unacknowledged knowledge was waiting to overcome you while sleeping, fingers creeping into your brain and secreting unwanted ideas in the deepest recesses.

You shivered and tried to rub some warmth into your icy skin, ignoring the nervous feeling in your stomach and the light film of feverish sweat on your forehead. 

The window creaked under the continued assault from the elements and you turned over with a huff, folding and punching your pillow into a more comfortable position, though without expecting it to have any effect.

Another sound, and this time your body tensed. You sat up in bed, poised to listen. This, you now knew, was why you’d been on a hair trigger all these nights: you’d been waiting.  It was as if the wind, high for these last few days was blowing a scent along with it. Subconsciously, you’d been waiting for this night to come.  

That noise didn’t come from the window. It came from the hallway. 

Your feet were on the floor before you were aware, and you were moving light-footed towards the door, pulling on your robe to cover the goosebumps on your exposed skin.

You didn’t stop to think you might be in danger, moving completely without caution towards the source of the sound. In truth, there was no space in your mind for anything but the hope of a resolution to the flutters of anxiety and anticipation you’d been dealing with. You were drawn like a magnet to that possibility.

And, when you opened the bedroom door, you found it, because standing in the hallway was an explanation for everything. 

It was a ghost you thought was long since laid to rest. 

He stood there, chest heaving against his waistcoat, his dark hair damp from the rain and blown into disarray. 

For a moment, you and he simply stared at one another.

It was him, alright. It was his perfect, angular jaw, his smooth skin and thick brows. And there, behind the dark green eyes, was the old man looking out at you: the weary traveler who rarely allowed himself to rest, who, in his deepest heart, didn’t think he deserved such happiness. 

And, in a rush, it all came back. 

You and he were like a room full of noisy machines, but all their discordant sounds were capable of falling into some inexplicable, otherworldly harmony and, in those glorious moments, everything about you made sense.

You made sense when the fire flickered, throwing dancing light onto his face, on his brow lowered in concentration and his lips moving softly as he read aloud to you. 

You made sense when he stretched out in the sun like a cat, grass stains on the arms of his white shirt, laughing as you goofed around above him. 

You made sense when you held his head pillowed in your lap, you brushing his hair out of his eyes and he looking up at you with his steadfast gaze; looking at you as if you were home.

And you made sense when the bed sheets stuck to the sweat on your entwined legs, when your back arched off the mattress, pulled into a helpless curve by the heat of his kisses to your neck.

God, it made so much sense when you gasped his name like a prayer throughout endless night-time hours. You let him touch you in ways that nobody else ever had, in ways that nobody else ever would. Only with him could it ever seem right: only to his touch could your flesh bloom like a field of summer flowers.

So, as he moved towards you in the hallway, you grabbed him by his waistcoat, pulling him to you and along with you as you backed up towards the bed. 

His touch hit you like a freight train. As soon as his mouth was on yours, as soon as his cold fingers were in your hair, everything fell back into place. His three year absence dissolved and everything besides him fell away. 

Teeth clashed, bodies half fell onto the bed. He had a tight fist curled in your hair, pulling from the roots. You kissed him fiercely, craving him as gasoline to glowing embers on the verge of smoldering.

He tasted the same, he smelled the same. A creature of habit, his shampoo was the same eucalyptus, and it hit you with another body blow. 

His body was a homecoming, and you knew it like muscle memory: he groaned into your mouth as your tongue flicked along his sensitive alveolar ridge, and then he bucked his hips into you as you transferred it to his ear, swiping your tongue down his helix in the way he clearly still loved.

And, judging by the way his hands and mouth made you shiver and squirm against him, and how hot your sex already burned for him, he remembered you as second nature too.

His light stubble scratching pleasantly against your ear, he finally spoke:

“I’ve missed you,” he rasped.

And as he kissed down your neck, pulling your robe aside to more easily get to your chest, you let out a breathless, supplicatory whisper. You said the only thing that made sense.

“Five.”

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage, @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee, @abeeabee6969

Megalist

Request info + rules

NOTE:

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

[busdeals]

Utilize Cotton Single Bedsheet with Pillow Cover to Improve Your Bedroom's Style

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Source URL: https://medium.com/@garcia777taylor/utilize-cotton-single-bedsheet-with-pillow-cover-to-improve-your-bedrooms-style-ee85a5fac672

Conclusion 

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[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Pillow talk

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Natasha is back from a mission and all she wants is to see Wanda. Wanda, however, is already entertained with another activity.

Disclaimer: SMUT! NSFW! Warnings for a light dom!sub relationship and daddy kink. English is not my first language, be aware.

READ ON AO3 | MASTERLIST

Natasha was tired after a mission that took way longer than she initially thought it would. She thought Steve and her would be out for a couple of days, three at max, but it took them two weeks to return to the compound, both feeling tired and in desperate need to take a shower and eat more than some granola bars they could easily carry with them while following their mark. The mission went well, in the end, and Natasha was glad with the outcome, although she left the quinjet playfully shoving Steve to the side, telling him she didn’t want to see his stupid face for a year now. He had laughed before disappearing inside the compound, where Natasha assumed he was searching for Sam.

That made up her mind as well. She needed to find Wanda.

Wanda, who she had said goodbye to before going away with Steve saying she would be back soon. Wanda, with whom she hadn’t been able to speak for the last two weeks. Wanda, whom Natasha loved with all her heart.

So, yes, she needed to find Wanda.

After promising Tony she would be back to debrief later - and ignoring when he yelled at her retreating back, asking for her to come back - Natasha went up the stairs of the compound two steps at a time. She had tried to call for the elevator, but it was taking forever and she knew she would be able to rush up faster than the big metal box. Wanda’s room - old room, since the woman hadn’t used it in a while - was a few floors beneath hers, but Natasha ran right past it. She knew Wanda would be in her room.

They hadn’t officially said they were sharing quarters, nor had they freed Wanda’s room for someone else to take it, but they had been sharing Natasha's room for a while now. They hadn’t slept apart when they weren’t on missions away from each other, and Natasha was sure that most of Wanda's clothes were squeezed beside hers inside the too small wardrobe. Maybe, Natasha thought while walking down the hallway to the white door, she should ask Tony for a bigger space soon.

Natasha sighed while she waited for the door's sensor to read her fingerprints and concede her access, but it gladly took only a couple of seconds. She pushed the door open without much care, although being silent had become second nature to her by now, and stepped inside with a content sigh of relief.

And that’s when she was surprised by what she saw inside the room.

Wanda was there, as she expected her to be, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, her thighs exposed all the way to her black panties, her face contorted in an expression filled with pleasure - lips slightly parted, furrowed brow, flushed cheeks, a single drop of sweat rolling down her face.

She must've not seen that Natasha was back. Probably didn’t hear the quinjet landing and, since she was locked inside the room, Wanda also hadn’t heard Tony and Natasha's banter. Wanda must've thought she would be alone for a while longer.

Natasha watched - with one eyebrow raised and a hand still holding the doorknob tightly - as Wanda rolled her hips forward, pressing her covered pussy against the pillow beneath her. That was the source of her pleasure, certainly, though now Natasha could see a hint of frustration coloring her face. Almost as if Wanda didn’t know what to do, even if she got herself in that position in the first place - kneeling on the bed, a pillow between her legs, hands clutching the bedsheets.

It took Natasha a few seconds to recover - mostly because her body went through several reactions at once. The tiredness was gone and she could feel a hard throb down her center, and it felt like she had just got up from a powerful nap instead of coming back from a two weeks long mission. So, of course, it took her a while to recover, but, once she did, Natasha slowly let go of the door and crossed her arms before leaning against the frame while running her tongue between her lips.

Like a hungry predator.

"What do you think you’re doing, printsessa?"

Oh, how Natasha loved using the russian pet name just as much as Wanda seemed to enjoy hearing it.

The words, though, cause a chain reaction that would've made her laugh in any other circumstance. Wanda gasped, her eyes flew open and her hips stilled so suddenly that she remained half-raised on the bed. The younger girl's cheeks became much redder suddenly out of embarrassment and her hands grabbed the sheets tighter, this time trying to cover her legs with it.

"Natasha," she breathed out of surprise with just a little whimper behind the word.

"Don't look so shy," Natasha teased her with a smirk. "It's just me."

Natasha pushed herself from the wall and walked slowly towards the bed, noticing how Wanda’s breath became shorter at every step she took. Natasha made sure their eyes were locked until her knees touched the mattress, and then she allowed her eyes to scan the body in front of her, not even trying to hide her hunger. It has been two weeks since she was graced with the image of Wanda's body, after all. Two weeks too long. Either out of embarrassment or because she wasn’t sure what Natasha would do, Wanda tried to cover herself with the sheet, which was enough to snap the spy's eyes back at her face.

"Answer me," she commanded - and she did so because, after months of that, she became a pro at reading Wanda and figuring out what she wanted. What, how and when, in fact.

When Wanda spoke again, her voice sounded more innocent, smaller. "I was feeling a bit tingly."

"Tingly?" Natasha repeated with a deep hum as her fingers moved to grab the sheet from Wanda’s hands. She didn’t pull it hard. Instead, Natasha started to slowly pull it away from Wanda’s body, revealing more and more skin as it went. She let her eyes devour all of it - the pale skin, the scattered scars, the birthmarks, the strong muscles - before she raised her gaze to Wanda’s flushed face again. "Let me see if I got this right. You were feeling tingly, so you felt the need to rub on something?"

Wanda nodded, her big doe eyes staring back at Natasha with a very well-practiced fake innocence that never failed to drive the other woman crazy. "Yes."

"Say it," Natasha demanded with her strong, steady voice. "Say it to me."

Wanda gulped and they both ignored the way her thighs squeezed the pillow tighter. "My pussy got all tingly so I humped against the pillow and couldn’t stop it."

Natasha let out a small breath, her hand finally pulling the sheet away for her to see all of Wanda again. "And why did your pussy get tingly, printsessa?"

"I dreamed about you," Wanda admitted and, to Natasha's absolute delight, she bit her bottom lip for a moment.

Natasha hummed gladly as she felt her chest swell with pride. She raised her hand to run her thumb through Wanda’s lips, freeing it from her teeth, before an amused chuckle escaped her mouth upon seeing the way the younger woman shuddered. “Tell me about it.”

“Nat-” Wanda whined and, despite her best efforts, her hips rolled against the pillow again.

Natasha only smirked and, taking some pity on her, she decided to just slip her thumb between Wanda’s lips. The witch wasted no time before she started sucking on it as she gently nudged her hips forward in a rhythm she had created. Natasha decided to allow her the small moment of relief while her other hand moved to pull the shirt slowly up, just enough to peek at a round, big and perfect boob with the perky pink nipple hardened. She took a deep breath, watching as the boob bounced with every roll of Wanda’s hips, feeling happier than ever that Wanda refused to wear a bra when she was inside their room.

Her small show was interrupted, though, when a frustrated whine left Wanda’s lips, capturing Natasha’s attention immediately. It was obvious, after looking at the younger girl’s face, that her humping on the pillow wasn’t enough to give her pleasure and Natasha smiled widely when she noticed the way Wanda’s hands were grasping at the pillow desperately.

“Oh, poor baby girl,” she cooed, immediately receiving a loud moan in response. Gosh, she loved how needy Wanda could get when they started those types of plays. “I can help you, how about that? Would you like Daddy’s help?”

Wanda nodded so fast and so eagerly that Natasha couldn’t help but chuckle. The spy used the thumb already inside Wanda’s mouth to grab her chin and turn her face at herself, forcing Wanda to look at her with wide innocent eyes before Natasha leaned over to press a loving kiss on her cheek. Then, Natasha let go of the girl’s shirt to grab her hip harshly, causing her movements to stop all at once.

With even wider eyes, flushed cheeks and heavy breath, Natasha’s thumb still inside her mouth, Wanda looked so damn hot and fuckable that Natasha took some precious seconds to just enjoy the view.

Eventually, she took her hands from Wanda, hearing a small sigh of complaint, and took a step back to remove her leather jacket slowly. Natasha was only wearing her white tank top beneath it, the straps of her bra showing up on her shoulders, and she smiled to herself when she heard Wanda’s hard intake of breath. Wanda had a thing for her arms, always impressed by the muscles Natasha built while training, but even more enamored by them when Natasha was using them to bend her over and fuck her senseless. Her personal favorite, actually.

“Take off your shirt,” the spy instructed while she neatly folded her jacket to put it on top of a chair that stayed by the corner - a chair sometimes they used for purposes other than holding their dirty clothes before laundry day. “Keep your panties.”

Wanda was obeying her order not even a second later. Still kneeling on the bed, the girl quickly pulled her shirt up and out of her body, throwing it on the floor without much care, before she looked at Natasha already waiting for more orders. Thankfully, Natasha loved ordering her around just as much as she loved hearing it.

Natasha removed her dirty boots, placing them beside the wardrobe carefully, and then she walked over to the bed again. She didn’t hide her smile, especially when she saw how desperate Wanda seemed, but she took her precious time before even doing anything. First, she placed a hand back on Wanda’s face, allowing her to suck her thumb for a few seconds before she ran her hand to the back of the girl’s neck.

Wanda’s hair was smooth like silk. It always felt like Natasha was touching the most delicate thing in the world when she ran her fingers through it. Natasha particularly enjoyed running Wanda’s hairbrush through her strands when the witch washed her hair or when she would braid Wanda’s hair while the girl was reading something. Wanda also liked Natasha’s hair very much so. She could spend hours playing with it, braiding it in all the complicated ways she learned just to replicate in Natasha’s hair, washing it when they shared the bathtub, but she was mostly kin on pressing kisses on it whenever she walked past Natasha, always seeking for some sort of contact.

And, as much as Natasha loved how tender they could be with each other’s hair, she didn’t think twice before intertwining her fingers through red locks and pulling hard to make Wanda’s head fall back to expose her neck. The girl moaned loud, sinfully even, and her hands quickly grasped Natasha’s shoulders to keep some sort of balance. With Wanda’s neck exposed to the room, Natasha wasted no time locking her lips against her pulse point to suck an uneven pattern on it. She wanted to leave a hickey, not because she wanted to mark Wanda, but because she knew it would drive the woman crazy.

It never failed to make Wanda mad when she looked in the mirror and saw that another hickey was left behind. It would make her growl Natasha’s name and look at her with hard eyes and closed fists, and it would usually mean that Natasha would be fucked to an inch of consciousness before they left the room.

Natasha loved to be in control, she loved to make Wanda scream and beg, to fuck her so hard and so good that Wanda would lose all control. But she couldn’t deny that having Wanda doing the same to her was very appealing. Especially when they fell into those roles so easily together.

Once Natasha was sure a mark was left behind, she finally moved to put one knee on the mattress, already pulling Wanda’s hair to get her moving. The girl groaned when she dismounted the pillow to give Natasha space to get on the bed, willingly letting the russian spy handle her harshly. The older redhead slipped on the mattress until she was sitting with her back against the headboard before she finally let go of Wanda’s hair to grab her hips with both hands. With no trouble at all, Natasha pulled Wanda to her, making the girl sit on one of her thighs while the other woman instantly moaned at the feeling.

Natasha could feel Wanda’s wetness slipping through her panties and wetting Natasha’s pants as well, which only made her groan to herself. She hadn’t touched Wanda’s cunt, but she could feel how wet the girl was and it drove her insane.

“There,” Natasha said and then tugged at Wanda’s hips to get her moving. “Hump on Daddy’s leg like the little slut you are.” Wanda moaned loudly, causing a satisfied smile to curl Natasha’s lips up. “Slowly,” she warned a second later when Wanda started to move as fast as she could.

Wanda whined and threw her head back, but did as she was told - like the good girl she was. Slowly, oh so slowly, she started to hump Natasha’s thigh, feeling her swollen clit brushing against the harsh material of her panties and the spy’s jeans. It took very little to have her moaning and gasping, forming a beautiful melody that was simply Natasha’s favorite sound in the world.

Natasha kept her hands on Wanda’s hips to set the pace of her movements, making sure that the girl wasn’t going fast enough to trigger her orgasm just yet while her eyes took on the gorgeous view she was being graced with. The most powerful Avenger - probably the most powerful being in the world - reduced to a soaking mess as she rode Natasha’s thigh like the needy baby she was. It certainly made her own cunt gush a hot liquid as well.

Wanda held herself upright for several minutes but, eventually, her body started to shudder with both the effort to keep her pace and the effort not to cum, and her head fell against Natasha’s shoulder. Natasha chuckled softly and curled her arms around Wanda as she felt the hot breath hitting the side of her neck and the strong hands grabbing her shirt. She then moved her hands up from Wanda’s hips to her sides, using her short nails to scratch Wanda’s skin and causing goosebumps to rise on her trail. The muscles twitched beneath her fingers, the body contracted and tried to move her hips faster, but Natasha only stopped once she was cupping Wanda’s breasts with her palms.

“Slower,” Natasha warned her swiftly. “Don’t be a brat.” Then, after hearing Wanda’s whimper, Natasha chuckled and raised a hand to pull the girl’s hair again. Wanda arched in her lap, chest going forward, and Natasha took advantage of that to capture one of them in her mouth for just a couple of seconds. “Keep humping, baby girl, it will feel even better.”

“Daddy-” Wanda moaned loudly when Natasha committed fully to sucking on her nipple while her fingers rolled over the other one. Wanda, without noticing it, squeezed her arms, basically trapping Natasha’s head where it was. “It feels so good,” she breathed out. “Please, can I go faster, Daddy? It feels so tingly.”

Instead of pulling away to reply, Natasha only ran her hands down to the girl’s hips again and, taking her entire boob inside her mouth, she helped Wanda ride her thigh faster. Wanda’s breathing became ragged, her movements losing all rhythm and becoming totally desperate, her moans louder forming Natasha’s name in her mouth. It built fast after that. Her body tensed and shuddered, she moaned and whined and then, suddenly, it all came to a stop when she gushed. She didn’t squirt - although it wouldn’t be a first - yet still soaked her panties and Natasha’s pants under her center.

Wanda collapsed forward into a panting mess, realizing only then that one of her hands had raised to grab a fistful of Natasha’s hair while the other one was grabbing her shoulder so hard that she was sure there would be half-moon marks on the woman’s skin later on because of her nails digging her skin. Natasha hadn’t stopped sucking her nipple, though now it was more of a soothing action than something to draw out pleasure. It was soothing for both of them since having Wanda’s nipple in her mouth always made Natasha feel at ease and at home.

It took them a few minutes to snap out of it and, once Natasha pulled away with a loud ‘pop’, Wanda glanced down at her with a sweet and a bit shy smile. “Hi,” she said.

Natasha huffed a laugh, not immune to finding the girl the cutest person she had ever seen, before she tilted her chin up to kiss Wanda’s lips. “Hello,” she greeted happily.

“Welcome back.”

“Hm,” Natasha hummed as her arms wrapped around Wanda’s waist. “I liked that welcome party.”

Wanda blushed a deep shade of red suddenly, which would make anyone believe she hadn’t been humping Natasha’s thigh a moment ago. “I missed you.” Upon seeing Natasha’s soft expression, Wanda leaned down to kiss her again. “Do you want to take a shower while I grab you something to eat?” She asked when they parted again.

“Oh, no,” Natasha scoffed and started to move. She put her hands behind Wanda’s knees, already flexing her muscles to be able to raise her off her lap and throw her into the bed. “I’m not done with you yet.” Wanda yelped in surprise before her yell turned into giggles when her back hit the mattress. The spy started to run her hands all over her body and Wanda could already feel herself lighting up again, though she couldn’t help but keep laughing when Natasha kept talking. “I’m going to give you something to hump to while I’m away, okay? Some nice memories, good things to think about. Maybe I will even give you a better pillow to hump on.”

“Natasha, stop talking and get it going already.”

“So bossy all of sudden,” Natasha teased, but she stopped losing time curling her fingers on the waistband of Wanda’s underwear to pull it down her legs.

She was on a mission again.

[xxn00bpwn3rxx]

woaw iz dat a pestkit fanfic ?!?!?

hai . made thiz for 1k twitter followerz celebration :3 waz zuppozed 2 be a comic but i waznt liking it and felt i could better zhow my ideaz and pest/medkit'z emotionz thru writing zo here : ) bware . fluff

Summary; Medkit has a nightmare, and Pest tries to comfort him

⠀⠀Darkness surrounded him. He didn't know where he was or how he ended up here, and he looked around, eyes wide as his eyes adjusted to the light. His hands trembled as he held on to a lantern with a small fire inside of it, illuminating everything around him with a weak yellow glow. He was holding onto the lantern like his life depended on it, he didn't even think he would be able to drop it if he had to. ⠀⠀Flies buzzed quietly around him as he stepped forward. There was a long road in front of him that led into darkness, with an occasional torch dotted here and there that didn't do much to pierce through the pitch black. Sand covered the ground on either side of the road, and he could hear small whispers in the distance. ⠀⠀He walked along the path, stopping when he saw a person. He ran up to it, calling out to them, but nothing came out of his mouth. He stopped in his tracks instantly when they looked at him with firey green eyes and muttered a garbled sentence, though he understood it clearly. "You filthy traitor." ⠀⠀Ice seemed to crawl up his spine suddenly as he looked away and started power-walking down the road again. He could hear the whispers from the darkness clearly now. ⠀⠀"I need healing!" ... "How's your eye?" ... "Do I have to work with a traitor?" ... "Help!" ⠀⠀It made his mind and heart race as he started to run, wanting to get away from the whispers as fast as he could. His feet pounded against the asphalt, sending up pain through his legs from the force of it, but he couldn't stop. He felt like something was following him, and it sent his adrenaline rushing. ⠀⠀Through the darkness and occasional light, he saw it. A house. He could hide in there! He went faster, running up through the steps and through the open door, almost flying into the T.V.s that were scattered in certain places in the room. He stared down at them, the red screens flickering. A single light source came from the roof; everything else was open and empty. There was no place to hide in here. ⠀⠀He could still hear the whispers. They were getting louder. The same thing, over, and over, and over again. And he could hear the shadowy figures walking around, their footsteps soft but audible. Then he heard a sound he hadn't heard before. A buzzing sound that was definitely getting louder. He looked over his shoulder right before a giant green slitted eye flew through the door towards him, and he let out a scream right before he blacked out, the last thing he heard from the eye being "You must kill him, to become him." ...

⠀⠀Medkit sat up straight on the bed with a loud gasp, his heart racing too fast for him to handle, his hands clammy, his mind fuzzy. He was panting heavily, and his mouth felt dry. His hands shook as he gripped the bedsheets, making sure he was still alive and fine, but grounding himself didn't seem to work as his eyes darted around the dark room. He didn't recognize where he was. And that sent more fear through him. ⠀⠀He was starting to hyperventilate, and he could hear nothing but his own heart beating at a scary pace, faster than it should ever be, and he was terrified he was about to have a heart attack. He gripped the pillow next to him, holding it with so much strength that his knuckles had turned white, and he started sobbing. Soft sobs, with a few hiccups in between, but slowly started getting louder as he smothered his face into the pillow.

⠀⠀In the other room, there was the soft sound of a water faucet running into the sink with the occasional splash of water. Pest stared at the mirror in front of him, water dripping off of his face. One of his antennae flicked upwards and twitched towards the bathroom door, something felt off. He turned off the faucet and bent over slightly, elbows resting on the counter as he listened. Then he heard it. Crying. ⠀⠀Crying again? He sighed softly, turning his gaze over to the bathroom door as he took the hand towel from besides the sink to wipe his face dry. That's the third time this week. He listened for a small bit more, noticing how it wasn't letting up. He grumbled. ⠀⠀Now, Pest wasn't one to care if somebody was crying around him, he'd ignore it. And he did the first couple times Medkit had cried near him. But three times is one too many, and he was getting annoyed. Though, what he couldn't ignore was the small sliver of empathy he had towards the demon; as much as Pest hated to admit it, he felt bad for Medkit. ⠀⠀And personally to Pest, Medkit wasn't the one to break down like he had been recently. Pest had been around him long enough to know that something had changed within the man, and he didn't know what had caused it. He didn't think too much about it though as he finished drying his face and moved over to open the bathroom door. ⠀⠀He slowly moved it open and peeked out of it, eyes moving around the dark room until his eyes met the form of Medkit huddled on the bed, face covered with one of Pest's pillows. He let out a soft growl, but ignored it as he opened the door more. As he stared over at Medkit, that feeling of empathy grew, and it confused him. He'd never felt it before. Something was telling him to suck it up and go comfort his boyfriend, but he was unsure how. So, he knocked on the bathroom door softly just to let Medkit know he was there. ⠀⠀Medkit stilled, his sobs disappearing as he laid there. He was shaking, his heart still racing. Hearing the knocks made him more scared, as he was unsure of who it was. By staying still he hoped whatever it was would think he wasn't there. Then he felt the bed dip slightly where his legs were and a low creak of the bedsprings. He breathed heavily and got brave enough to look over his pillow slightly, to be greeted with 4 red eyes staring at him. Medkit thought he would have just croaked right then and there finally from a heart attack, but something about the way the eyes were looking at him gave him a sense of safe that he didn't understand. ⠀⠀The other person shifted slightly closer, still looking at him. Medkit couldn't see much from how dark the room was, but he could recognize the shape of Pest from anywhere, and he calmed down a tiny bit as he stared at him. ⠀⠀"Are you okay?" Pest muttered out. Medkit's brain paused for a quick second, and he continued to stare at Pest as he slowly processed what he had just asked. To him, it sounded more like a demand than a question, and it dumbfounded him, especially since he was still mentally out of it from his nightmare that the question was lost on him. And he must still be in his nightmare, because Pest would never ask him that. ⠀⠀Pest watched Medkit for a few more seconds before growling. "Did you hear me?" His voice was harder this time. Oh. It really is Pest. Medkit thought, and he slowly put his pillow down to lay it on his chest. He nodded, opening his mouth to reply, but instead licking his lips to get rid of the chappy dry feeling he still had. After a couple seconds, he replied. "Y-yeah. I did." Medkit's voice was shaky, low and hoarse, and he hoped what he said was intelligible enough for Pest to hear.

⠀⠀"Then answer. Are you okay?" Pest narrowed his eyes at him, and Medkit felt a hand gently being placed on his own. It wasn't much, but that small gesture made Medkit feel warmer than he had a few seconds ago, and he instantly went to intertwine his fingers with Pest's. ⠀⠀"I... I suppose so." Medkit looked away, leaning back against the pillows. Pest moved over and turned the bedside lamp on, turning his head to stare at Medkit's face. He looked tired, which was the norm for Medkit, but somehow he looked even more pathetic like this. His one eye was shot, his hair a complete mess, and the little fluff on his cheeks were stiff with dried tears. Pest chittered, clicking his mandibles together as he took in the sight in front of him. ⠀⠀"That's a lie." Medkit frowned at Pest's response. "You look like you were run over by multiple trucks and possibly an airplane." Medkit knew Pest was attempting to lighten the mood, but it didn't work for him. ⠀⠀"Why... why would you care?" Medkit turned his head to Pest as he asked the question, and he felt guilt as he heard the way it sounded as it exited his mouth. He instantly went to apologize, "I'm-" ⠀⠀He was cut off by Pest suddenly getting up further onto the bed, moving Medkit's legs to crawl towards him like a feral animal, his head lowered, and eyes squinted at him like he was suddenly a piece of prey. "Pest, what are you-" Suddenly, Pest was laying right on top of Medkit, and he couldn't help the blush creeping onto his face as Pest wrapped his top arms around him, bringing them both into an embrace. ⠀⠀Pest stared up at Medkit, his chin on his chest. "Look. I don't care what you think of me. Just stop your crying. It's starting to get on my... nerves." Medkit exhaled softly. The way Pest spoke was harsh, not a lot of comfort, but that wasn't what caught Medkit's attention. The way Pest had hesitated on the last word gave Medkit all he needed to know about Pest's true feelings, he knew it was his own way of saying "I want you to stop crying because it's making me upset," which showed he cared. At least, that's what Medkit was hoping for. ⠀⠀Pest's mandibles tapped Medkit's chest. "Or else." Medkit stiffened a bit, wondering why he was suddenly being threatened to stop his crying, but when he looked down at Pest's eyes he saw a playful glimmer to them. That did not help matters. ⠀⠀He shifted slightly underneath Pest as he stared at him straight on. "Don't." His voice was low, a warning, but Pest did nothing but smile teasingly back at him. ⠀⠀"Don't what?" Pest replied. Medkit's heart dropped when he felt Pest's lower hands trail up underneath his nightshirt, and he blushed harder. A small thumping noise could be heard, and when Pest looked down, he noticed Medkit's deer tail was hitting the bed, and he snickered. "Okay. Now I know this'll work." He looked back up at Medkit right before he used his claws to gently claw at his fur. ⠀⠀The moment Pest's fingers did that, Medkit jolted with a soft yelp. The sensation made a million different thoughts and emotions go through his head at once and it was getting increasingly hard to not get overwhelmed or melt, or both at the same time. Medkit hissed through his teeth, "Pest. Stop it. That tickles." ⠀⠀Pest rolled his eyes and moved upwards more. "That's too bad." He bent down and started planting soft kisses on Medkit's face, bringing his hands up to lay on Medkit's chest as he did so. Pest was getting confused on why he was suddenly getting so touchy with Medkit, but it looked like he needed it so he went with his urges and showered him in affection. Medkit on the other hand, was becoming a flustered mess below him.

⠀⠀Medkit was letting out soft giggles as Pest kissed his face, he was trying desperately to act like it wasn't doing anything just because he felt stubborn, but it was not working out in his favor. Especially with his tail going 50 mph right next to them. Pest cupped his face with his hands and started kissing him more deeply, one on the forehead, another on the cheek, a gentle one on his facial scars. Medkit's ears flicked and he whined, making his lips a thin line as if to stop himself from smiling. ⠀⠀He felt like if Pest continued any longer he was gonna end up melting into a puddle, his heart felt like it was about to burst. Then Pest kissed him on the lips, and his body went completely limp, his eyes closed, and his mind went completely blank from shock. He could feel nothing but Pest's hands and arms wrapped around him, his mandibles caressing his cheeks, his lips on his, and his antennae gently tapping him as if Pest were feeling him with those too. ⠀⠀After a couple seconds of the kiss that felt like it went on for hours, Pest pulled back and looked down at Medkit, hands still cupping his face as he scanned his expression. Medkit fluttered his eyes open, making immediate eye contact with Pest. He breathed quickly through his nose, and he cheeks were a deep blue color as his lips trembled into a weak smile. ⠀⠀Pest adjusted himself so he was laying next to Medkit, and he laid his head against one of his horns as he wrapped all four arms around him fully. "There. You smiled." He grinned smugly at him, and Medkit grumbled softly. Though, he couldn't stop the smile growing on him as he nuzzled his face against Pest's neck, placing a hand on his chest. ⠀⠀"Shut up," he muttered, placing a little kiss against Pest's neck, earning a chitter in response. ⠀⠀He raised one of his hands up to rub gently at Pest's horns, which was in his own way him being affectionate right back at him. His blunted claws scratched and massaged in the little grooves, him being extra careful of the spiky parts. It didn't take long for Pest to entirely lean against Medkit, kicking his leg against the bedsheets like a little dog as Medkit continued, and he started hearing a soft rumble coming from his chest as he used the other hand to massage the other horn. They suddenly twitched, clicking together once, and Medkit had to withdraw his hands quickly to make sure Pest didn't accidentally grab his nightshirt (or hands) and rip it. ⠀⠀His smile grew as he snuggled closer to Pest, looping his arms around his neck, feeling safe in the comfort of him. After a bit, his breathing slowed down, and he found himself finally falling back asleep, his ear right up against Pest's chest as he listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. Pest went and moved his tail to push the blanket closer to him, going slow to make sure Medkit didn't wake up, and went and wrapped the blanket around the both of them as he got more comfortable in his position. ⠀⠀Medkit was already snoring softly, and Pest found his own eyes closing as he let himself finally fall asleep as well. Medkit didn't have a nightmare this time, and Pest finally got some much needed rest.

[madame-fear]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

[ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 | 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍 ]

★ amira speaks! : beforehand i apologise for the sensitive content/topics in this chapter, i only added it for the angst of the plot. feel free to ignore this chapter if you dislike this type of content. — summary : [ — ✧ request ] — word count : 6.0k

— pairing : lucerys velaryon x betrothed!reader — genre : initial angst at Jace’s unrequited love, maybe. in general terms, fluff. this chapter mostly contains angst.

ೃ⁀➷ check the TPOL masterlist!

TW | mentions of near death, birth, blood, miscarriage(s), self-deprecation.

“Just a few more pushes,”

A helpless groan escaped from you. Several strands of your already sweaty hair covered your face, swaying very slightly as you heavily panted against them. Your trembling hand was held by Rhaenyra rather tightly, while her other hand soothingly brushed the bits of hair that covered your eyes, caressing your head as well. Towels tinted in your own blood were all across the bed where you were giving birth to your firstborn, and the tension in the atmosphere worsened with the passing of seconds.

Childbirth could be rather difficult and dangerous, too, and she like no other understood the situation you were in. The situation wasn’t any easier considering it was unknown whether Lucerys had survived Storm’s End or not, with her being his dearing mother, and you being his treasured, closest friend. “I-I can’t do this—” you panted out, a desperate look covered your expression, as you craned your head to stare at Rhaenyra in a feeble manner. She shook her head, “You can do this, sweet girl. We’re here for you.” she reassured, cooing. Jace, much like Rhaenyra, held the back of your head, stroking it with the tip of his thumb to offer you some comfort, feeling nervous and preoccupied himself as well for your safety.

The young maidens that aided you during the birth of your child seemed rather nervous, noticing how grimly in pain you seemed. A breathless groan escaped from you, as the pants became more huffed with the passing of the seconds. A rather intense cramping pain struck you in the abdomen, even being felt in the lower stomach; it felt as if all of your organs were pressured and being squeezed right out of you. Clenching your jaw, a growl escaped deeply from your throat as you began trying to push harder.

You felt as if you could pass out right there from the way your head spun around dizzily, at any moment. The blood loss you suffered was exaggerated, and concerning. The bedsheets below you had turned into a harrowing dark shade of red for those surrounding you. One of the maidens was positioned between your legs, to which your inner thighs had some dried drops of your blood, and she raised her sight towards Rhaenyra. “I can see the head of the babe already, your Grace.” she remarked, as Rhaenyra gave her a single nod with her head, sheepishly grinning before turning back to you.

“The babe is almost out, you can do it.” she kept reassuring. But there was something that felt off. Perhaps it was your intuition that sensed something was not right, perhaps it was the built-up stress taking an extreme toll on your body, or even… It was the thought of what could’ve happened with the young Velaryon Prince in Storm’s End, that still roamed subconsciously in your mind, eating every last remaining bit of your mental stability in a heinous manner. Every time you reminded yourself of the current situation the cramping pain kicked harder, making you try to hold back a few screams of dread, but miserably failing.

A tear appeared at the corner of your eye, threatening to fall at any given chance as you let your head drop dead against the pillow, shaking your head desperately. “No, no…” you mumbled out, feeling the tear run across your cheek, leaving a hot trail behind. The pain was nearly unbearable, you could barely hold yourself anymore. The platinum haired woman raised your hand to her lips, softly pressing a lip against your knuckles as she caressed your skin with the tip of her thumb. “I know how it feels, my love,” she spoke in a hushed tone, that as well indicated worry behind of it, noticing the amount of blood you lost. She tried to cling to the last bits of hope she had inside of her, but she knew what that could possibly mean. And it was grisly to even allow that thought to slip inside her mind.

Rhaenyra didn’t wish for you to endure the pain she went through, when she suffered a miscarriage with Visenya.

“But the babe is almost out, you have to do this.” the baby that was half his, or her way out from your insides felt like a heavy weight, as if the child didn’t seem to do it’s own efforts to come out from you. A sigh escaped from you, as your quivering arms propped your body slightly by the elbows to adjust your position. Your hand tightened it’s grip to that of Rhaenyra’s, and you once again tried using all the last remains of strength you had to force the baby out of you.

In a swift movement, the door of your private quarters was opened in a haste. A maiden rushed inside, approaching Rhaenyra. You were too distraught pushing your baby out to even care, but the Targaryen princess raised her sight with furrowed eyebrows to stare at the maiden, whom had leaned her body closer to Rhaenyra’s, whispering in her ear.

“A small dragon has been seen approaching Dragonstone, your Grace. It might be Prince Lucerys,”

Those words of her were barely distuinguishable to you, feeling drowsy enough as you felt the babe’s heavy weight leisurely coming out of you, along the slick liquids of your placenta. Her blue eyes widened very slightly at the words of the young maiden, staring at her with a look of both disbelief, and relief. The maiden, without saying another word, rushed back outside of your private quarters, discreetly working as someone who passed the news to the Queen while she was focused on helping you with your birth; with the birth of the future heir to the Iron Throne.

“Half body out, my Princess.” the maiden informed, with a keen smile appearing on the corner of her lips as she encouraged you to keep pushing. Rhaenyra warmly, and vey slightly smiled to you at the news. There was barely any strength out of you, but biting your lower lip desperately, you picked all the force that was left inside of you, and used it to push the babe out of you with some more pushes.

At one point, gritting your teeth through the pain, you felt the child easily sliding out of your body. A cry escaped rather loudly from you, even if your jaw was tightly clenched to drown back the noises spurring from youe lips, feeling the heavy weight pressuring your lowest zones one more time, before feeling relief at having it all come out at once.

As the child slipped out from you, you mindlessly threw your head back, physically and mentally exhausted. One of the maids assisting you rapidly took hold of your babe, as another girl helped her wrap the child. Rhaenyra looked down at you, warmly leaning closer to press a tender kiss on your sweaty forehead, and Jace rapidly stood up from his seat to meet the child. “I’m proud of you.” Rhaenyra whispered, brushing aside the strands of hair that covered your face, as you remained with your eyes closed.

One of the young maids that carried the already wrapped up babe in her arms remained with her stare fixed on the child. Your eyes slowly opened again, barely beig able to move from all the physical activity. Her expressions turned into a joyful one, but leisurely became grim, with her sheepish smile drooping down in a dreadful manner. It wasn’t until then, that you realised something was terribly wrong. And so did the rest of the people inside your chambers.

“P-Prince, Princess, your boy…” she gulped nervously, as the eldest Velaryon Prince stood by her side. A sensation of anxiety arose on him with the passing of seconds at the realisation that the child, your little boy, wasn’t crying, nor doing any sound even if the young girl rocked him gently in her arms. Jace, delicately but hastily, took the child on his arms.

The child was quiet, still. The chambers felt horribly dreadful as your chest rose and descended continously, awaiting for the young maiden to continue speaking, or for Jace to at least murmur a word. The young maiden’s face began being covered by great anguish, as Jace stood still staring at the boy you had together in disbelief, quietly grieving.

As Jacaerys held the small babe in his arms, one of his hands went to the back of his head, raising him to his face, and placing his lips on the child’s forehead in a mournful manner. Rhaenyra could only feel the disappointment, and sorrowness that would begin to loom over you at the tension lurking the ambience, amidst the dead silence.

“(y/n)…” the eldest Velaryon muttered, carefully sitting by your side. Weakly, you rapidly sat on the bed, groaning a bit in the process as a stinging pain hit in your lower stomach. It couldn’t be. The way you stared at him, screamed that you were losing every bit of hope to see your newborn baby boy healthy and well. His heart ached at the sight of harrowing desperation in your face, as well as Rhaenyra knew you wouldn’t be easily comforted out of this.

“No,” you whispered, nearly abruptly taking the babe away from Jace’s arms, carrying him yourself. “It… It can’t… It can’t be—” your words were stuttered, coming nearly choked out. A lump began tightening your throat, as you felt a rising of savage emotions all coming to attack you at once. Cradling the newborn baby smoothly, your trembling fingers weakly moved aside part of the blanket wrapped around his body that covered his beauteous little face.

Gods, it seemed as if he was merely sleeping peacefully; undisturbed. Your chin began quivering, as the water forming in your eyes became tears, violently beginning to escape from your eyes as you sobbed. Tightly pressing the child against your chest, with your hand pressing the back of his head tightly against the crook of your neck, you allowed yourself to cry everything you had contained.

“I’m… Very sorry.” jace muttered, feeling the sorrow himself as that little dead baby was his child as well. Without doubting it a second, his arm was wrapped around your waist and pressed you against him, embracing you warmly to offer some comfort. Rhaenyra reached to place herseld by your side and smother you in her usual motherly love, but the same maiden that informed her of the dragon approaching Dragonstone from afar entered the room again.

“Your Grace, Prince Lucerys and his dragon have returned severely injured. He was asking for (y/n) before he had to be taken to his chambers by the maesters due to his open wounds.” the whisper was supposed, again, only for Rhaenyra to hear, but you did manage to properly listen what she said. The Targaryen Queen looked at you one more time with a long sigh before standing up from her seat, “I will be back soon, my love.” she whispered, caressing your back before leaving behind with the maid that informed her of the news.

Either way, the burden sitting heavily on your chest was more than enough for you to ignore all the things surrounding you. The tears escaped from your eyes, leaving their hot trails on your rosy cheeks. The poisonous feeling of ponderous emptiness rooted inside you haltingly with the passing of time. Nothing surrounding you mattered anymore. You felt frail, impotent — not only physically, but it was mentally degrading as well for your wellbeing.

“I-I’m sorry…” you muttered, in between helpless, desperate sobs. The tears ran freely across your face, falling down to the ivory blanket your dead child was wrapped around, leaving little dark spots of dried tears. “I-I failed you. I failed my own child… I-I failed everyone,” your lips quivered violently. Your already feeble arms trembled as you tightly held your child against your chest, rocking your body.

Jace looked at you sorrowfully, trying to contain the own sadness he felt at the moment. He shook his head softly, brushing aside a strand of your hair. “No, don’t say that. You never failed any of us,” he reassured, embracing you tightly, allowing your own head to heavily rest on his shoulder. The eldest of the Princes felt a bit of uneasy on how to properly comfort you, as words never felt enough. “You are a great and dutiful wife, as well as a mother. We all cherish you very dearly, like no other.”

His lips were pressed gently against your head, trying to coo you. Your eyes were tightly shut, carelessly allowing sweaty strands of your hair to cover your features. The dreadful pain — in every way — made you feel tremendously exhausted, but all the tears you hid for quite some time were finally freed. In response to his words, you shook your head.

“No,” you whispered, with a hitched breathing. You sniffed quietly, “I am no proper mother, Jacaerys.” weakly, you raised your sight to him. Continously, the tears falled from your eyes, moistening your own clothes, and that of Jace’s. But that couldn’t matter any less, at the moment. His coffee coloured eyes attentively focused on you, pitying the state you were in.

“T-The Seven,” you blurted, stuttering. “They have cursed me to suffer this pain. And I wish I wouldn’t have to endure it.”

Of course, he never thought this was a cursed brought by the Seven themselves. Perhaps a misfortune, yes, but only because the context of war was stressing enough to also add the near death of your best friend, his younger brother. Fortunately, the young future Lord had returned, harmed but alive, but there was no going back to what happened. Your child was born too early, and in a bad situation.

For now, all he could do was give you your time and space to let the pain naturally flow away. Offering you his support and care as you both lost the newborn boy, and the next heir you shared in common, but with no pressure to you.

Time passed dreadfully slow. The hooting of the owls was hushedly heard from the outside of your window, as well as the chirping of the crickets.

All the tears that had fallen from your eyes were dried. There were no more of them to let escape, but you felt as if you needed to cry even more. Your eyes felt heavy, as if they could droop down at any given time, but you had no need to rest at all.

The funeral of your dead newborn child wouls be held early in the morrow, and you already dreaded the thought of having to witness it. Everyone that previously assisted you with your birth had offered their comfort to you, but after some time, you decided you wished to be alone. And knowing the pain, they allowed you to carry your cold babe in your arms, cradling his body disappointedly.

Lucerys had to forcefully rest after the maesters helped taking care of his severe wounds, and had been informed of your miscarriage the second the young Prince woke from his short, interrupted sleep. Of course, Luke had insisted on standing up in anyway he could, and visiting you — but as you wished to be alone and he was gravely injured, no one allowed him to get out of his private quarters.

Truth was, you craved to have Lucerys by your side comforting you after the miscarriage you suffered. And he did as well.

While everyone rested in a deep slumber, the young Velaryon Prince stood from his bed. A wooden cane was given to Lucerys in case he needed to stand up for anything, and he took hold of it as he surreptitiously made his way out from his chambers; but not without having to drown back some growls in pain at how every single cut painfully stinged him.

Quietly shutting the door behind of him, he used his cane to walk on the dimly lit halls of Dragonstone to guide himself towards your chambers, which fortunately it was only a few minutes away.

As you gently cradled your body grimly with youe cold child in your arms, with notorious dark bags under your eyes and a slight redness from all the tearing, a soft knock was heard from the door of your chambers. Having been involved in your own thoughts — and blankly staring, simultaneously — the knock made you quietly yelp, jumping very slightly. Your heartbeat increased rapidly, as you gulped anxiously.

You felt too weak to even respond. “M-May I come in?” the gentle, feeble voice was from no other than Lucerys himself. Even if you felt relieved to know he had taken all the effort to visit you, a few seconds of silence loomed before you finally answered. The pounding from your heartbeat leisurely went back to normal. “Y-You may.” you finally answered, with a hoarse voice.

For some reason, it felt strange to hear your own voice after hours of locking yourself own chambers. The mere sound of your fragile voice shattered his heart.

Discreetly, Luke entered your room, rapidly shutting the door as he entered. You lifted your sight to stare at him, with a dispirited expression in your face. Not only your heart was already shattered for having gone through the painful miscarriage of your firstborn, but as well seeing his arms covered in bandages, noticing several cuts on his face with some dried blood and him walking on a cane slowly already worsened your state.

Lucerys stopped right in front of your bed, his green eyes observing the amount of blood your sheets were covered in, along some towels tossed around your chambers that were tinted in dark red. The sight was harrowing enough, and it became more horrid the moment he saw you still holding your baby boy in your arms, looking absolutely shattered. Your hair was messy, and your face was had slight puffy eyes from all the crying, reddish in your lower lids.

“Baelon didn’t make it, Luke.” your voice was enervated, breaking as you spoke very slightly. A long sigh escaped his lips, continuing to walk towards you. Your eyes were watery once again, as you looked down at your babe. “(y/n)…” he muttered, groaning hushedly as he sat by the edge of your bed, but by your side. His cane rested against the nightstand table next to your bed. “I wish I could have been there for you. I’m sorry.”

Tenderly, his hand was placed on your cheek. With his thumb, he wiped away a tear that began rolling across your cheek again, caressing your skin very softly. “A-And I wish I could have been there for you, too…” you retorted, swiftly licking your already dried lower lip. “Jace insists I could never fail him on my duty to provide him with an heir, but…” your breathing was sharpened, trying to inhale some fresh air to avoid falling into the downward spiral of releasing all the sorrow you contained.

“I did fail him. I failed all of you. I wish I could have taken more care of myself to protect my child,” your words brought grief to himself, with a desperate rising feeling in his chest to hold you against him and shower you in all the adoration Luke had. The young Velaryon noticed immediatly the way the tip of your quivering fingers caressed the cheek of your little boy.

“Look at me, (y/n). Come here,” curiously, you raised your sight towards him.

With a weak, yet smooth movement, the young Velaryon prince gently wrapped his arms around your waist. His hands tightly pulled you against his body while his green eyes fluttered shut, as you rested your head against his chest and kept cradling your child in your arms, inhaling his scent deeply as if his warmth were the only thing capable of keeping you less miserable.

The tears strolled through your eyes in a leisure manner. It was as if a burning burden sat tightly against your chest, weighing profoundly. In a way, you felt reassured to know that despite how gravely wounded he was from Dragonstone, he was still alive. But other part of you, felt entirely useless, and if something had been brutally ripped apart from you.

“I promise, we will forever cherish that child.” you would forever remember the heir that could never be, and even if you felt helplessly useless, you found comfort in Lucerys – as your own beacon of security.

“And I will stay by your side in the morrow, during the funeral.” he placed a tender kiss on top of your head, then resting his chin on it. The young Prince rocked your body to the sides very tenderly and slightly, sighing softly. Something in him realised how much of a good, loving mother you were. In a way, you reminded him of his own.

For a moment, during Storm’s End, he was afraid he would never get to feel that sweet warmth of yours, or to ever stay by your side to comfort you if you needed to. But part of that weight was released when Luke returned safe from home, and even if he was as severely wounded as he was, he would never not take care of you.

This was far away from being the end to you, even if it seemed like nothing could be as better and simple as it used to be.

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