#something about being stabbed through the jaw

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Hold Your Hand - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: Ben has two modes. One: take care of Her. Two: take care of Her (with sex). This is the former.

Title from Waste by Foster the People.

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary/Warnings: You get your period, and Ben has to do his job and take care of that. Request from the amazing @ciuguapa! Takes place post series (I'm getting bold), or any time after Chapter 28. Usual warnings.

Ben roared Her name, because he was fucking dying. His gut was being ripped and torn apart,his whole body was sensitive—Ben wasn’t supposed to fucking be sensitive, ever—and something felt like it was contracting around things that were not supposed to be contracted around.

She was in bed, and didn’t even goddamn look up when Ben stomped into their bedroom. He opened his mouth to say Her name again—and maybe fucking tell her to look at him and smile and let him crawl between the sheets and hold her until the pain faded—but he froze. She didn’t look good. She looked beautiful—She always looked beautiful—but her expression was made of deep lines and lips that looked crusted with quickly drying blood, and her eyes were squeezed shut. She’d curled into a ball, her hands were smoking in the sheets, and her heart was pounding out of her chest, making the ringing in Ben’s ears almost unbearable.

Ben marched to the edge of their bed, glaring down at Her as he tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. He felt like death, She looked like death, and Ben had no goddamn intention of going out from some stupid fucking cramps, so he needed to work out what was happening right now. It couldn’t be poison, neither of them could be poisoned. It couldn’t be some sort of sickness, because they couldn’t get sick. It felt like he was being fucking stabbed, but there was no one else in the room but Her, and this didn’t make anything fucking sense-

“Hi,” Her voice was muffled in the sheets, and she slowly rolled onto Her back with a soft, strained moan of pain. “Ben-“

He hissed Her name through his teeth, crawling over the mattress to hold her perfect, flushed face between his hands. “What the fuck is happening-“

“It’s-“ She cut herself off with another strangled noise, her hands curling in Ben’s shirt and another rush of pain hit his gut. “Fuck, I got my period-“

“Your what-“

She gave him a flat look, whacking his arm with a weak slap. “Shut the fuck up, Benjamin, you know what a period is-“ She paused, scanning over Ben’s face with a worried expression. “You do know what a period is, right?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Of course I know what a period is, brat, I’m not a fucking idiot-“

“I know you’re not, I just wanted to check, you were raised before sex ed was really a thing, and-“ She moaned again and Ben clenched his jaw, using all the strength in his body to haul them both up and hold her in his lap. “Fuck, I’m sor-“

“No.” He muttered, forcing himself to ignore the hot, sore pain squeezing in his stomach and focus on rubbing soothing, slow patterns over her skin. “No apologies, Sunshine. What do you need.”

She leaned back, pretty lips in a slight pout as her hands moved to hold Ben’s face. “I’m, shit, I’m okay, you-“

Ben had felt that brand new roll of pain, could fucking see her curl further into his arms, and scoffed. “You are not fucking okay.” He snapped Her name. “You look like death-“

“You look like death.” She mumbled. “I know you can feel this, Benjamin, and don’t even think about telling me you can’t-“

“If you know I can feel this,” Ben drawled, holding Her glower with his own. “Then you know not to fucking lie and say you’re okay. What do you need.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and Ben knew he’d fucking won. She felt fucking sick, there was sweat across her brow and something boiling at the base of her abdomen, and Ben could fucking feel it all. She knew he could feel it all, and She knew that Ben wouldn’t fucking move until she told him what to do—how to fix this—so he’d goddamn won.

“I,” She sighed, grimacing as the pain hit a steady point of just fucking living in her body. “I need, um, I need supplies.”

“Supplies.”

“Tampons and pads. Annie should have some, I know she gets it pretty bad and I think she just finished hers-“

Ben gave a rough nod. “How much of that shit do you need.”

“Enough for two-ish weeks-“

“Two fucking weeks-“

“Or three. I only get it once a year, because of the V, but it’s long, and the first week is going to be pretty much just this the whole time.” She sighed, dropping her head to Ben’s shoulder. “Sorr-“

“Shut up. What do pads and tampons look like.“

She let out a breathy, soft giggle, wrapping her arms around Ben’s neck. “Just tell Annie, she'll know. Ask for the diaper ones.”

“Diaper-“

“I’m shitting blood out of my cunt, Pretty Boy.” She kissed the base of his throat, and the words didn’t sound half as disgusting as they should when She said them. “I need a diaper.”

Ben nodded slowly. He’d seen grosser shit anyway. Heard grosser shit. Done grosser shit. “The tampons are the fucking bullets, right. That go, uh, inside.”

She hummed an agreement, and Ben grinned as pride swelled through his body. Warmer than the pain, pushing it down into a drive of Her. Ben could fucking moan and wallow and pussyfoot around after, right now was about making sure she was comfortable. Loved. Not looking like fucking death and still smiling. 

"What else."

"Um," She paused, pulling back to examine Ben's set, determined face before mumbling, "Chocolate, please. And Advil."

“I got opioids in the cabinets-“

“Why the fuck do you have opioids in the cabinets-“

“Frenchie gave them to me. And don’t lose your damn mind, Sunshine, Ryan can’t reach them.” Ben kissed the top of Her head, pushing on. “Take the opioids instead of the Advil. No painkiller is going to work on you, might as well take the strong shit-“

“I don’t want opioids-“ Almost like it could fucking sense Her protests, the pain doubled—spreading higher up her gut and squeezing—and she groaned. “Opioids are fine, actually. Please get me opioids.”

Ben lowered Her slowly back onto the mattress, and forced himself not to just flop at Her side and ride this the fuck out. She was more imporant. “We got a fuck ton of chocolate, I’ll grab some with the opioids. Don’t move.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, gripping Ben’s arm as she mumbled, “Like I fucking could if I wanted to.”

Not bothering to hide his snort, Ben leaned down, muttered “Brat” against her brow with a soft kiss, and dragged himself to his feet.

Ben called Annie in the hallway, and she picked up on the third ring.

He didn’t bother with stupid fucking formalities like a greeting. She was in pain, and all that mattered was fucking helping. “I need diapers and bullets.”

There was a brief moment of silence, long enough for Ben to wonder if Annie was even fucking there, and then, “What?”

“Diapers and bullets-“

“Yeah, I heard you the first time. Why do you need diapers and bullets? Is there like, a baby supe we need to deal with-“

“No.” Ben snapped, another gnawing twist of sickness hitting his stomach. “I’m on my period.”

Ben heard a sigh, long and labored, through the speaker. “Is,” Annie said Her name carefully. “On her period?”

“Fucking obviously-“

“And,” Annie continued, ignoring Ben. “Did she tell you to get pads and tampons?”

Ben scowled. “Yes. The diaper ones.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ve got some left over. I can be there in thirty minutes-“

“Good.” Ben paused, glaring into the air. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Tell her I’ll be there soon.”

Ben nodded, not caring that Annie couldn’t see it, and marched downstairs. The chocolate was easy to find—Ben kept some of it fucking everywhere, in pretty much every fucking form he could find—so he grabbed a fistful of it, dropped it on the counter, and heated up some hot chocolate for the extra fuck of it. He crushed up some of the opioids into the mug, carried it carefully upstairs, and pushed back into their room.

“Annie’s coming.” He told Her, placing the mug on her bedside table. “Put the drugs in the chocolate. I can make more if you want.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at Ben as she pushed up on her elbows. “You take very good care of me.”

She was teasing him, but Ben still couldn’t stop the wide grin on his face as he stopped her movements up, dropping back onto the mattress and pulling Her into his arms.

“I do,” he muttered in Her ear, holding her upright in his lap, her back pressed to his chest. “That’s my fucking job, Sunshine, and I’m damn good at it.”

Her head dropped back, tilting so She could meet Ben’s gaze. “All that work for no payment, Benjamin. You’re a hero.”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re my payment and you damn know it-”

She snorted, wiggling slightly in his hold. “I don’t think that’s as romantic as you think it is.”

Ben shrugged, grabbing the mug and passing it into Her hands. “I don’t fucking care. I love you, so I take care of you, and that’s fucking that.” He kissed the top of Her head as she hummed, and let Her drag one of his hands to cover her stomach as he continued. “I don’t need stupid fucking thanks, darling. I got you.”

“You do.” She sighed, taking a long sip of the hot chocolate and smiling up at him. “You got me, Ben. Good luck getting rid of me.”

“Wouldn’t fucking dare to try.” Ben moved his free hand to swipe his thumb over a line of chocolate off her upper lip, lowering it for Her to suck off. She did—without a fucking thought—and Ben loved Her so fucking much. “Stay here.“

Her grip tightened on his hand across her body. “Where are you going?”

“Forgot some chocolate downstairs-“

“I have this,” She raised the mug slightly, twisting enough for Ben to see the full, pretty pout of Her lips, the soft, needy hope in Her eyes, and lose any will to move before she even spoke. “I’m okay.”

Ben frowned, the pain slightly softened, but still fucking overwhelming. “You need-“

“I need you.” She kissed the base of his jaw, placing the mug back on the table to hold Ben’s face between her hands. “Please stay.”

Fuck him, Ben couldn’t say no to that. She was so fucking beautiful, and looking at him like he was everything, and if staying here was what Ben needed to do to take care of Her, he was not fucking strong enough to walk away. Not when he could fucking feel the warmth spreading over her body, the ease of the sickness and aching and stabbing as the drugs and chocolate set in, and She looked so goddamn happy here.

He did take good fucking care of Her. She passed out in his arms before Annie even arrived, and Ben stayed right fucking there. His hand still resting over her stomach, watching Her look so fucking perfect and relaxed—humming and making small sounds of content in Her sleep—and dozing in and out with the rushing and waning of Her pain. Annie could let herself in, Ben needed to stay right fucking here, with Her, for as long as she needed.

End Note: Thank you to @ciuguapa for the extra domesticity! This one was sitting in the backdrafts because of secret Ben x Sunshine lore I had to hide (they can feel each other's pain) but I also just finished my own period, so I'd just call it good timing.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask! (Separate from main taglist)

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd

[lovinglynx]

Can we talk about the fact that Tanjiro got stabbed through THE FUCKIN JAW?! Because holy shit.

[hypnagogics]

is this vore? /hj. hi. im gonna squeet. and dunk my head into ice water digital footprint pls forgive me. may have wrote this with one hand IM JOKING. this is just somethin quick because i need to get it out of my system ok.

nsfw drabble—biting sev all over ♡ sub!sevika, edging, fingering (all s! receiving), idk what else girl i can't see straight cuz of her...

and there she lay before you, bare and twitching, in a state she's kept very well hidden from everyone—except you.

her lip tucked under her teeth, head thrown back and half-lidded, blown out eyes lazily following your movements; she was laying sprawled on the mattess. she had tried and failed to hold herself up, both arms trembling under her weight until they eventually gave out.

this was the result of you—oh, how evil you were—edging the poor woman for an eternity. in actuality, you had tortured her to such a point she didn't even have the energy to bark orders at you like she usually does.

all she could do, was whine. whines of your name, wordless huffs and quiet pleas were all she could sound out. and every so often she'd squirm under you and break eye contact when you did something so obscene, even she couldn't handle it.

you wore the most wicked of sneers on your face excitedly, using all your strength to push her thick muscular thighs outward, until you gazed upon a sight worth winning wars for.

the torture you faced her with had her pussy throbbing. no, that was an understatement. you could see every individual muscle controlling her shiny lips jump at the cool air, you could see the way her clit was nearly whispering for you to touch it, and not to mention the pooling of pearlescent slick dribbling out of her pulsating hole, making a literal puddle under her ass.

now this? this was a never going to get old. you'd plaster the image of her fucked-out self on every surface, take a polaroid and carry it around with you. you were salivating. drool was almost running down your chin at the sight.

but alas, your blissful trance was cut short, by none other than her gruff voice.

"hey. you gonna stare or am i gonna have to finish this myself?" her voice shook, then her eyes darkened and she spat, "you'd like watching that though, wouldn't you. fuckin'—holy-!!"

you didn't give her the time of day to listen to her bitching about, and you cut her off by lunging forward and sinking your teeth into the soft flesh of her right inner thigh.

her shocked intake of air quickly turned into a pornographic moan, her back arching, her breathing quickening, and her thighs fighting to close around your head.

you knew that was her weakness. your teeth in her skin? pff she was a goner. you used that to your advantage as much as you could, she deserved earth shattering orgasms just as much as the next gal.

her noises were bordering on a shriek as soon as you circled her hole with a digit, grinning into her skin at the way she was sucking you in, legitimately trapping your finger inside her.

you felt the flutters of an impending orgasm tickle your immobilized finger, and with great effort you removed your mouth from her thigh and pulled your finger out.

the look on her face when you did that felt sharper than if she had stabbed a spear right through your heart. when sevika gives one of her famed death glares, the word stops spinning. but you being you, it just spurs you on more.

before she can protest you migrate up and place gentle kisses on the side of her neck, right on her pulse point, as a soothing motion before you did what you really wanted.

you sank your teeth in her flesh as hard as your jaw allowed you to, the tangy taste of her blood invading your mouth.

simultaneously, you brought your hand back down to her neglected pussy, pushed your thumb up against her thumping clit, and slid your two middle digits inside her—within moments finding her spongy sweet spot.

the cries of pleasure were stuck in her throat, and you couldn't see from what you were doing, but you'd bet your entire life's savings that her eyes were rolled so far back in her skull only the whites would be visible.

your fingers were working hard, all in harmony to bring her to that peak she so craved, and luckily it hit her after no time at all.

her whole being tensed, a low groan reverberated through the room as one of her hands flew to grab a chunk of your hair, further pushing your body flush against hers. you didn't move your mouth, it was suctioned against her in such a way that was guaranteed to leave a nasty bruise on her skin the next day, but she loved it. you did as well.

you felt a gush of warm fluid on your palm, and chuckled into her skin while she shook all over, needy, animalistic noises being all she could produce.

you put in the work and made sure she was utterly spent, then lifted yourself off of her to enjoy the look on her face. she looked so at peace, so satisfied and ethereal, you adored her more than words could ever say.

and likewise, she did you. she cracked open one eye and smiled widely, opening her arms and beckoning for you to lay back on top of her in an embrace.

naturally, you did just that. eagerly burying your face in the crook of your neck, you kissed over the bite mark you left, ran your tongue over the indents in her skin and reveled in the little whimpers she made.

she always had more flesh you could lovingly bite, why stop at just one square inch?

sev taglist (not tagging everyone still cuz YALL SIGNED UP FOR TLOU AND IM A PEOPLE PLEASERRRR SORRY): @fizyypopp @luvssliyahh @wizard-pdf @dearangxl @melsmunch

[howtofightwrite]

So. There is no safe place (in the body) to be shot. There are places that are slightly safer than others to be stabbed (i.e. being stabbed in the meat of your calf is less likely to be lethal than your torso). For the purposes of an arrow wound, which feels like a combination of shot+stab for a swords n sorcery world, is there a “less lethal” place to take an arrow? My character is traveling with companions and gets into a fun little goblin skirmish. I need her to catch an arrow somewhere that will be concerning, but not immediately fatal. Magic Bullshit™️ will keep the wound from healing properly for a few days, but I’ve accounted for field wound care (cleaning and bandaging and such) as she’s being taken on horseback to get proper treatment.

Not deeply.

So, the problem with all of these is tissue disruption. If the injury gets deep enough, the chances that it will hit something vital (especially on the torso) increase dramatically. So, getting stabbed and having the blade catch bone, instead of getting in deeper is “relatively” safe. Similarly, getting stabbed (or shot) in the hand or foot is unlikely to kill you (though, those injuries are likely to result in permanent damage impairing the use of injured appendage.)

Arrows are a little different, in a couple of ways. First, if you get shot, you do not want to pull that off (nor break it off and push it through.) That will increase the risk of bleeding out. Arrows make fairly large holes in people, but if the arrow sticks in the wound (which, it should) it will actually limit the amount of bleeding. Effectively the wound has a partial plug in it. Pulling out the arrow means that plug is no longer there, and they can happily bleed to death on the spot.

The second thing about arrows is that they actually pin muscle together. Think of it a bit like holding two pieces of meat together with a toothpick. If the toothpick isn't there, the pieces can slide across each other without issue, but that's not possible when there's a wooden shaft running through them. Your muscles are a complex web of meat, that slide over each other as you move. Pinning those together means that part of your body will actually lock up. For example, if you're shot in the shoulder, you won't be able to adjust the position of your arm. It's been toothpicked, and it's not going anywhere.

Arrowheads can get wedged in bone. If it's a broad head, or hunting tip, that will be obnoxious to get out.

At the risk of reading too much into your setting, goblins often means poisons, or other nastiness. Though, really, even just getting a tetanus infection (it used to be called “lock jaw”) from their blades is a pretty horrific potential fate. Even if the wounds themselves were relatively minor (cuts and scrapes, maybe a graze or two), a couple days might still result in some pretty horrific harm after the fact.

Also, remember, it's unlikely that bacteria will be understood by the medical science of your setting. So, first aid would still run a real risk of secondary infections.

Depending on their skill in first aid, anything outside of a severed artery or catastrophic organ damage should be (technically) survivable, though the wounds could easily result in permanent impairments, depending on exactly what was hit. A punctured lung might not kill her, but it could result in permanent respiratory issues, such as a cough, and chronic pain while breathing heavily from then on. It could also result in pneumonia and death, which is also, usually, pretty permanent.

Some of this depends more on where you want to land on a spectrum between dark fantasy and swords & sorcery. The genres are similar (and potentially overlapping), but can scatter out into dramatically different works. But, you do have some options on how you want to proceed.

-Starke

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[limethefirst]

Void Runners Pt. 1

pairings: Deadpool x Wolverine x teen!reader

warnings: contains heavy spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine, swearing, blood, the normal deadpooly stuff

summary: Reader has been trapped in the void for a few months now, after getting into trouble with the TVA, when they suddenly stumble upon a Deadpool and a Wolverine.

Part 2 / Part 3

a/n: if this gets popular enough I might write a part two, I'm having Deadpool and Wolverine brainrot, also this is unedited so pls tell me if you see mistakes

It had been 4 months since you had been sent to the Void; the apocalyptic like plain, becoming what you had accepted as your new home.

You were a time traveler, that had accidently messed up some big event and that caused the TVA to come and take care of you. You weren't sure what the big event was, something about some saving some rich guys parents. You thought you were doing a good thing by it but apparently not.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter anymore, you were now stuck here. You'd been alone most of the time, sometimes seeing other people but you had learned quickly into your stay that these others were part of this group formed by Cassandra Nova, an insanely powerful woman who you never dared cross paths with.

Until unfortunately today.

Sadly you stumbled upon the wrong people at the wrong time. As you were walking through the dusty plains, you saw two men falling from the sky, thinking back on your heroic days you felt obligated to help out. That was not the best idea, you tried to go up to the men but instead they started arguing when a fight suddenly broke out between them. By the time the fight had ended you had blood all over your (as clean as they can be in the void) shoes.

"Augh, I just cleaned these too." Is what seemed to snap the men out of whatever had just happened.

"Oh my gosh! How long has the movie been out? Five days, and we are already getting reader inserts? Wow!" The man in the red mask said to no one in particular, "And what might your name be sunshine?"

"Uh Y/N, are you guys okay, you seem to be stabbed in a lot of places?" You answered a bit concerned after seeing two men almost tear each other apart.

"Oh this? Sorry, my partner here has weird kinks-" The strange man is cut off by the other seemingly older man punching him in the jaw. "See what I mean kiddo?"

"Enough Wade." The older man gruffed, his arms crossing as he shakes his head disapprovingly.

"Whatever you say sugar cube!" The man known as Wade looked back at you, "Oh you must be wondering who we are huh! Well this hairy beast of a man is the one and only Wolverine, and I am your friendly neighbor Deadpool!" Wolverine looked at you and sighed at the at his 'partners' antics.

From there things only went downhill, and that is how you were stuck with them being hauled off to Cassandra Nova's lair.

"Awee are we having a flashback already?!" Deadpool's annoying voice rang from in front of you. Currently you were stuck in a ball like cage with, Johnny Storm, Wolverine and Deadpool.

Johnny began to explain to the men where we were all headed, going over the basics of who were about to meet and the type of woman Cassandra was. You looked a bit ahead as you noticed you were already here.

As you guys had come to a stop you saw the others being throw out of the cage, you held up your chained hands to the man before they could throw you as well, "I got it, thanks" jumping out before you got tossed as well.

At the same time you got down you heard Deadpool's odd comment, "Huh, Paul Rudd finally aged." You turned down at the man slightly and gave him a quick look of confusion unsure what he was talking about; his partner seemingly unphased by the comment, most likely used to it.

Looking ahead ignoring the bickering next happening to your right, you saw what seemed to be a bald woman in the mouth of the giant skull. As the dust cleared you could see her get up from the wheelchair she was sitting on, "What was the point of the wheelchair.." You dully commented.

Deadpool adding on, "Oh ableism great, that's not gonna go over well with the Woke mob!"

You looked at your surroundings, no longer caring about the scene unfolding before you, Deadpool began to talk with Cassandra, somehow coming up on the topic of a coke, loving roommate.

After a bit more talking between the two you hear Deadpool slandering Cassandra, and then telling her it was all Johnny who said it. This brought back your attention just in time to see Johnny's skin ripped from his skeleton.

"Not my favorite Chris." Deadpool says, not having much remorse for the scene in front of him.

"You piece of shit you just got him fucking killed." Wolverine adds, pointing at the remains of Johnny.

"Awe I kinda liked him," You mumbled to yourself, as Wolverine looked at you with a look of discouragement on his face, almost as if saying not to get Deadpool started with this.

"Hey we are all grieving," Deadpool yells, "He doesn't know what he was doing to the budget." He mumbled the last part.

Cassandra ignored his words and walked past the group, "Shush, Alioth's hungry."

"There must be some kind of mistake," Deadpool started again, "Big yellow is an anchor being and I'm Marvel Jesus, MJ if you're nasty." Cassandra turned her head a little as you stood next to them listening to their story, not getting the chance to hear it earlier. "This may be hard to hear but there's another British villain, he's gonna destroy my universe and I'm gonna stop him."

"Oh honey you don't really strike me as the world saving type." Cassandra answered him, this seemed to upset the laidback man. You watched as he seemed to straighten himself up hearing that. "Did I hit a nerve?" She turns back, almost sarcastically.

"I didn't want it to come to this," Deadpool says, "Either you help us or my friend here is gonna sing the entire second act of Music Man with no warm up"

You look at him confused, "What the hell is that?"

"Where'd you get the chair?" Wolverine asks Cassandra as she walks back towards the skull.

She quickly answers, "Every once in a while we get a Charles here, never mind though, he didn't care to find me."

Deadpool leans back seemingly annoyed, "Ughh Gen Z and their trauma bragging!" He shoots you a quick glance, "Can't you just stuff it down and turn it into a cancer like the rest of us?"

"But I'm not like the rest of you, except maybe the Wolverine, now we could be truly terrifying together." A light smile graced Cassandra's face as she watches you guys.

You watch their exchange a little more before you notice the purple mist coming up behind you guys slowly getting closer. As you turn back around you see Wolverine getting dragged through the ground and Deadpool backing up.

"I am so not with them." You tell Cassandra hoping that doesn't happen to you.

"Oh yes they are." Deadpool fires back, making sure he isn't next. Unfortunately for him he was, you watched as Cassandra got behind him and put her fingers in his head.

She began to whisper something and within the next minute she let go. Deadpool shook his head and started rambling yet again, "You are so mean! I could taste your fingers! They taste like hate, and where in God's name is the intimacy coordinator?!"

"You're so lost Mr Wilson, long before you came here." Cassandra told him.

He took out his knife and held it up, "This is baby knife, she's gonna fuck you in the face now."

Cassandra looked at the knife at back at him, "If you're going to kill me it's going to take more then a little blade."

"How about six?" Before she could say anything else, Wolverine came up behind her and stabbed her with his claws.

"Holy shit" You said covering your mouth.

Before you could celebrate, Cassandra began laughing and fell from the claws, "This has been fun but the big guy needs to eat and the rent is due." She turned around walking away as a looming shadow of darkness rose above the skeleton you were in.

Before anyone had a chance to say anything people had scattered and Deadpool grabbed you and hoisted you up over his shoulder taking you towards the machine Wolverine was trying to fix for an escape.

You hadn't a second to say anything because the next thing you knew, you were being taken with them hopefully away from the giant monster.

[logansdoll]

ivy, l. howlett (4)

landing on Ellis Island, it was finally time for you to show off what you could do

CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.

After figuring out Magneto and his gang were headed for Ellis Island, the four of you loaded into the Blackbird on a covert mission to stop him.

So after disembarking on the faraway side of the island, and deducing that the machine was hidden in the torch, you all stormed inside in an attempt to get you to the top.

Which meant passing through the museum.

Though it wasn't long before Logan caused a ruckus.

The moment he walked through the metal detectors, an alarm began to blare, forcing everyone to freeze.

Quickly, he drew his claws, stabbing the sensor until the alarm shut off, before turning to the rest of you.

Scott flashed him a cocky smirk, but Logan just flipped him off.

Rolling your eyes, you continued on, dipping in your belt pouches and sprinkling seeds along the carpet walkway, keeping your eyes peeled.

Though Logan was thoroughly confused.

"What's that?" he asked, brow raised as he walked up next to you.

"Our backup," you answered with a knowing grin, pressing ahead to spread some more.

And, as much as he willed them not to, his eyes traveled down your back, all the way to your leather clad ass.

He was only a man, and he had to say it looked absolutely fantastic, perfectly fit for your figure and moving so tantalizingly.

Trust, if you gave him a chance, he'd rock your—

A sharp jab to his side snapped him out of his reverie, its source being a particularly displeased woman with hair whiter than winter snow.

"You're drooling," she raised a brow, almost scolding.

She didn't need the professor to know what the man was thinking, and all that could be saved for after they rescued Rogue.

Before he could respond, he caught a whiff of something.

"There's someone here," he sniffed, brows furrowed.

"Where?" Scott asked.

"I don't know.... Keep your eye open."

"Logan."

But the man paid no mind, power-walking ahead and around the column in search of the source.

Though when he came back around, there was something different about him.

Something odd.

"I know there's someone here. I just can't see 'em."

He stalked toward Scott, his claws suddenly sprouting.

'The hell...'

Suddenly, another Logan tackled the other, the two tumbling into a maintenence room.

'Okay, what the actual hell...'

You three quickly followed, Scott unsure of which one to shoot as they stood off.

"Wait!" the both shouted in unison, their voices the same.

But one suddenly slashed the chain holding the door, slamming it shut right before your eyes.

"All right, back up," Scott ordered, holding the side of his goggles.

But before he could shoot it open, a familiar frog man suddenly swung over, knocking him into another room and kicking you and Ororo to the ground.

 Using his tongue, he slammed the door to Scott shut before wrapping it around your ankle and tossing you onto a higher level, sending you crashing into a display case.

'Bastard...'

But before you could even recover, he was already scaling the wall, having stuck some sort of adhesive saliva on Ororo's mouth to distract her.

Quickly, you pulled yourself up, but his tongue smacked you right back down, before grabbing your waist and tossing you into a nearby elevator shaft.

You hit the bottom with a sickening thud, hitting your head right on the concrete and splattering blood all over the floor.

That was the last straw.

Jaw locked tight with anger, you pushed yourself off the ground, fixing your neck with a disgusting crack as small as thin vines of ivy grew around your wound, quickly closing it.

"He's done."

Taking all of your pouches off your belt, you opened them up and flipped them upside down, dumping every seed in your arsenal on the ground.

And with a flick of your hand, they all shot up into the air, carrying you along with it.

When you reached the top of the shaft, your vines began to grow all over the place, two large ones completely ripping the doors open.

Toad's eyes narrowed, confused to see a gigantic lotus flower before him.

Until it bloomed, you emerging from its receptacle.

"Don't you people ever die?" he shouted, annoyed, as the stormed over.

Big mistake.

Instantly, a vine coiled around his body, tightening as you were carried toward him.

Your plants grew without control, overtaking everything on the upper levels and even encroaching on the lower.

Though you still approached the balcony with your new friend.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow your roll, love," he began to panic, jolting with fear as even larger vines burst through the windows, the flora following you outside. 

The reality of his situation was finally sinking in.

"You can't kill me! That old man o' yours don't allow it!"

You stared at him, eyes cold and dead serious as a humongous Venus Flytrap grew at your side.

"Who said I was going to kill you?"

Terrified, his eyes turned to saucers, especially when it began to move closer.

Without hesitation, the vine binding him shifted its grip, tossing him into her jaws, which she snapped shut the moment he landed.

Of course, you really couldn't kill him, so you'd already given her precise instruction.

"You know what to do," you nodded to her, "Don't go too deep."

She gave you a wiggle of confirmation, before quickly growing toward the harbor, submerging herself and Toad underwater.

With that taken care of, your plants returned you indoors, bringing you toward the banister of the upper floor to look over, where the others seemed to be regrouping.

"You guys all right?" you asked as you descended.

Turning to you, Logan's eyes widened, surprised and quite fascinated.

He knew you could control plants, but he didn't think you'd have the whole damn jungle following you.

"She wasn't kidding..." he nodded, intrigued.

For Christ's sake, you were sitting in a huge flower like some woodland fairy.

"I took care of the toad guy," you reported, stepping out Lottie—the lotus.

"The shapeshifter's handled, too," Logan nodded, focusing back on the matter at hand.

"Prove it," Scott raised a brow, resting his fingers at the side of his goggles, ready to blast.

"You're a dick."

...

"Okay."

You rolled your eyes, turning toward the roof.

"If you ladies are done... there's a girl that needs saving."

Once you all finally made it to Lady Liberty's head, you looked around, only to find that the machine was already powering up within the flame of the torch.

"Everybody, get out of here," Logan stated, seriously.

"What is it?" Ororo asked.

"I can't move."

Suddenly, something shoved him up against the wall, pieces of metal flying from all directions to pin each and every one of you.

You, in particular, getting stuck in front of Scott.

And, of course, the man himself descending from a hole he made in the statue's head.

"Ah, my brothers. Welcome," Magneto smiled, turning to Logan, "Let's point those claws of yours in a safer direction."

Using his power, he forced Logan's fists to point toward his chest, bending some scrap metal to keep them there.

"And you," he turned to Scott, Sabretooth removing his goggles. "You'd better close your eyes."

"Storm, fry him," Scott ordered, his eyes screwed shut to keep from hurting you.

"Oh, yes. A bolt of lightening into a huge, copper conductor," Magneto agreed, sarcastically. "I thought you lived at a school."

"I've seen Senator Kelly," you blurted, hoping to divert his attention.

"So the good senator survived his fall and the swim to shore," he smiled, walking up to you. "He's become even more powerful than I could have imagined."

"He's dead," you corrected. "I saw him die. Like those people down there will die."

Knowingly, he leaned in closer.

"Are you sure that's what you saw?"

You scoffed, not even surprised by his indifference.

He didn't give two shits whether those people down there lived or died.

And he could see the realization all over your face.

"Why do none of you understand what I'm trying to do?" Magneto groaned, "Those people down there control our fate and the fate of every other mutant... Well, soon our fate will be theirs."

"Help!" Rogue cried, her voice muffled but not far away. "Please help me!"

"You're so full of shit," Logan glared, pissed. "If you were really so righteous, it'd be you in that thing."

"Help! Somebody help me!"

Magneto ignored the comment, instead floating up in the air to commence the process, leaving the rest of you to wait for the inevitable.

Although Logan didn't.

Suddenly, he let out a roar of fury, impaling himself with his own claws.

"Logan!" you exclaimed, eyes wide.

You knew he could heal, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.

But his doing so destroyed his binds, dropping him to the floor.

And he played dead for a moment, waiting until Sabretooth got close enough to lift him up, before stabbing him in the gut.

Sabretooth yowled with pain, tossing Logan through the hole and out on Lady Liberty's head to fight.

Which left you to finding some sort of way to escape.

Frantically, you used your power to call out to any sort of flora you could, cursing yourself when you couldn't find anything.

That is... until you felt a tiny wiggle from the corner.

'No way...'

You thanked practically every God in heaven that some contract worker was eating David seeds on the job, because there laid a perfectly intact sunflower seed on the ground.

Quickly, you grew it larger than the average sunflower,

Sabretooth dropped back in, eyes locked on you as he slowly approached.

He caressed his gnarled claw over your cheek, staring at you intently.

"You owe me a scream."

But before he could do anything, Logan dropped down right behind him.

"Hey, bub. I'm not finished with you yet," he growled, eyes flicking to you. "(y/n)."

"Scott, when I tell you, open your eyes," you instructed.

"No!"

"Trust me."

"You dropped something," Logan smirked, tossing you Scott's goggles.

Quickly, the sunflower caught them, angling them in front of your face just right.

"Now!"

Scott opened his eyes, the beams diverted toward Sabretooth, who was blasted clear into New York harbor.

'Oh, thank, God...'

You had no idea that was going to work.

"Thanks," Scott nodded as Logan cut him down, the large leaves of the sunflower pulling you free.

"Don't mention it," Logan assured, breaking Ororo free before turning toward the torch. "We gotta get her out of there."

"Scott, can you hit it?" you asked.

He attempted to aim, but it was no use.

"The rings are moving too fast," he denied.

"Just shoot it!" Logan exclaimed.

"I'll kill her!" Scott held firm, turning to Ororo. "Storm, can you get me up there?"

"I can't control it like that. You'd fly right over the torch."

"(y/n)?"

"Not in my range."

"Then let me do it," Logan stated, turning to Scott. "If I don't make it, then at least you can still blast the damn thing."

'Shit...'

Your weren't for this plan, but it seemed like you had no choice.

"I can get you up there," you sighed, growing Susana—the sunflower—slightly larger, until she was big enough to be stood on. "But she's small. So once you get there you're on your own."

He confirmed with a nod, his eyes looking at you with something almost indecipherable before stepping onto the flower.

Quickly, you grew her stem toward the machine, going higher and higher until he was close enough to jump on top of it.

And once he did, you returned her back to her normal state, thanking her gratefully for all her hard work before turning your attention to the sky.

Where Magneto was stopping Logan from destroying the machine.

"I have a clear shot," Scott reported, powering up his beam. "I'm taking it."

"Hurry!" Ororo rushed, the wave of blinding, white radiation already close to and nearly reaching the delegates of the summit.

With a quick, precise shot, Scott knocked him away, freeing Logan and allowing him to slash the controls, instantly dissipating the radiation.

Sighing with relief, you finally allowed your shoulders to sink, running a tired hand through your hair.

He did it.

The X-men had won the day.

[kckt88]

God Is A Woman.

Summary:

Aemond has always had a thing for his brother's wife, and of course Aegon being the good brother that he is offers to share.

Warning(s): Language, Temptation, Consentual Infidelity, Threesome, Unce/Niece Incest, Brother/Brother Incest, Kissing, Body Worship, Smut, Oral Sex (M & F Receiving), Fingering, P in V, P in A, Lactation Kink, Breeding Kink, Muliple Orgasms, Mention Of Same Sex Encounters, Allusion to Child Birth.

AEGON x O.C NIECE x AEMOND

INSPIRED BY THE SONG - 'ARIANA GRANDE - GOD IS A WOMAN'

Word Count: 7944

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Aemond sat at the dining table, his one remaining eye observing the room with a mix of detachment and intensity. His gaze settled on his brother Aegon, who was leaning in close to whisper something into Vaella's ear.

The sight of her giggling and blushing, batting Aegon's hand away from where it rested on her thigh, stirred a storm of emotions within Aemond.

As Vaella leaned in to kiss Aegon on the cheek, Aemond felt a pang of jealousy swirl in the pit of his stomach. He wished it was him who was married to Vaella, not Aegon.

Despite knowing it was wrong to covet another man's wife, especially his brother's, he couldn't help the longing that gnawed at him.

Vaella's beauty and grace had always captivated Aemond, and her marriage to Aegon only intensified his feelings. He watched her now, her laughter like music to his ears, and felt a stab of envy as Aegon wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

Aemond's jaw tightened as he tore his gaze away, focusing instead on the goblet of wine before him. His duties as commander of the City Watch demanded discipline and control, yet his heart betrayed him.

He tried to drown his thoughts in the rich red liquid, but the image of Vaella and Aegon together persisted, a constant reminder of what he could never have.

Vaella's laughter softened as she caught sight of Aemond staring at her from across the table. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, a mixture of longing and something she couldn't quite place.

Leaning closer to Aegon, she whispered something in his ear, her eyes never leaving Aemond's face.

Aegon, catching the note of curiosity in his wife's voice, followed her gaze to his brother. When he saw Aemond quickly look away, a smile spread across his lips. The sight of his brother, usually so composed and stoic, caught off guard was rare and amusing.

"Seems Aemond has a lot on his mind tonight," Aegon said with a chuckle, his voice just loud enough for Vaella to hear.

Vaella's eyes lingered on Aemond for a moment longer, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. She couldn't deny the sensation that ran through her at the sight of Aemond's lingering gaze.

Though she loved Aegon dearly, there was something about Aemond's silent, brooding nature that had always intrigued her.

Aemond, realizing he had been caught staring, felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. He quickly diverted his attention, pretending to be engrossed in his wine, as the conversations around him continued, his mother talking to Rhaenyra of Helaena’s happiness in her marriage to Cregan Stark and Rhaenyra’s joy at Luke and Rhaena enjoying their stay in the Vale and Jace and Baela’s success on Driftmark as they had recently welcomed their first child a girl named Laena.

There was a time when all of them sitting around the table like this as a family seemed almost impossible, but after the unfortunate death of his grandsire Otto over six years ago any plans to usurp the throne had since fallen by the wayside and upon Viserys’ death, Rhaenyra had ascended the Iron Throne peacefully.

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, a mix of shame and frustration roiling within him.

He cursed himself for being so careless, for allowing his emotions to slip past his carefully constructed defences.

He could still feel Vaella's gaze on him, and he dared not look up again. Instead, he focused on steadying his breath and calming the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

But even as he tried to push the feelings aside, the image of Vaella's soft, curious eyes remained etched in his mind. He knew he would have to confront these emotions eventually, but for now, he would bury them deep, where they couldn't betray him again.

As dinner came to an end, Aegon leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I think I’ll stay a while longer," he announced. "A few drinks with Daeron sounds perfect."

Vaella smiled at her husband, then turned to bid goodnight to Rhaenyra, and Daemon. "Goodnight, Mother, Father," she said softly, exchanging kisses on the cheek with them.

“Goodnight sweet girl” replied Rhaenyra brightly.

Turning to Aemond, she asked, "Will you escort me to the nursery so I can say goodnight to the children?"

Aemond nodded silently, rising from his seat. As they left the dining room, Aemond was oblivious to the subtle nod Aegon gave Vaella.

The corridor was quiet, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor. The tension between them was palpable, yet neither spoke a word. When they reached the nursery, Vaella pushed open the door gently and stepped inside.

Aemond watched from the doorway as Vaella approached the small beds where Aerion and Valaena lay sleeping.

Their silver hair gleaming in the candlelight, Vaella's face softened as she stroked their hair, pressing a tender kiss to each of their foreheads.

"Good night, Issa byka zaldrīzoti" she whispered, her voice full of love and warmth. (My little dragons).

The nanny, standing by with a watchful eye, bowed respectfully to Vaella. "Thank you, Elinda" said Vaella softly before turning to leave.

Aemond followed her silently as they made their way back through the winding corridors to her chambers. The castle was quiet at this hour, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the walls.

As they reached her door, Vaella paused, turning to face Aemond. "Thank you, Aemond," she said, her voice sincere.

Aemond inclined his head slightly. "Goodnight, Vaella," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Vaella paused at the threshold of her chambers, turning to Aemond once more. "Aemond, please, come inside. I wish to speak with you."

Aemond hesitated, his sense of propriety warring with his curiosity. "Vaella, it is improper-"

"Please," she insisted, her eyes searching his. "It will only be for a moment."

Aemond took a deep breath, then relented. "Very well," he said quietly, stepping into the room. He moved to one of the chairs and sat down, fiddling with the edge of his gold cloak nervously.

Vaella gave him a grateful smile before excusing herself. She ducked behind a screen to change, the candlelight casting a soft glow around the room. Normally, she would have her maids assist her, but she didn’t call for them.

Aemond's gaze wandered despite himself, drawn to the silhouette of her body illuminated by the flickering light.

He tried to look away, telling himself it was wrong—she was his brother's wife, and he had no right to covet her. Yet, he couldn't help but stare, the shape of her form was mesmerizing to him.

It had been some months since he’d last had a woman to warm his bed and he could feel his body responding in earnest to the sight before him.

Vaella's movements were graceful, and Aemond's heart raced as he watched her, guilt mingling with desire. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breath, but the sight of her was too powerful.

Finally, Vaella stepped out from behind the screen, now dressed in a simple nightgown that clung to her form. She approached him, her expression earnest. "Aemond, we need to talk," she said, her voice soft but firm.

He tore his gaze from her and met her eyes, trying to regain his composure. "What is it?" he asked, his voice strained.

She hesitated, searching for the right words. "I’ve noticed the way you look at me," she began, her tone gentle. "And I think we need to address it."

Aemond's heart skipped a beat, fear and hope intertwining. "Vaella, I-I apologize if I've made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention."

Vaella simply smiled and shook her head, taking a step closer, her eyes holding a mixture of determination and vulnerability as she spoke. "Aemond, I like the way you look at me."

Aemond slowly stood, his breath hitching as she approached him. Her presence was intoxicating, and as she reached out to touch his scarred cheek, he closed his eye, savouring the gentle sweep of her thumb across his skin.

With a soft click, Vaella unclasped his eye patch, revealing the sapphire nestled in his eye socket, her whisper like a caress. "Sīr gevie," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine admiration (So beautiful).

Aemond's heart raced in his chest, his hands twitching nervously at his sides. "Vaella, we shouldn't do this," he said, his voice shaky with a mixture of fear and longing.

Vaella's eyes softened, her hand still resting on his cheek. "It's okay, Aemond," she reassured him. "You can touch me if you want to."

His hesitation melted away under her gaze, and slowly, he lifted his hands to cup her face. The warmth of her skin against his palms sent a shiver down his spine, and he leaned in, his lips brushing hers tentatively.

As their mouths met, a surge of emotion coursed through Aemond, overwhelming his senses. The kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration, but as Vaella responded, it deepened, a hunger and longing they had both been suppressing now finding release.

Aemond's hands slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as he poured all his unspoken feelings into the kiss. Vaella's hands moved to his shoulders, her touch encouraging him,

Aemond stood silently, his heart pounding as he watched Vaella's delicate hands move to unclasp the belt that held his weapons. The loud clunk as it hit the stone floor echoed around the room, resonating with the tension between them.

She then moved to remove his gold cloak and black armour, piece by piece, her movements deliberate and gentle.

Each touch sent a shiver through Aemond, and he struggled to keep his breathing steady. As she removed his cotton shirt, the cool air of the room met his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from Vaella's fingers.

When she lowered herself to her knees to remove his boots, Aemond's gaze never left her, the intimacy of the moment leaving him breathless, he could scarcely believe that this was real, that this was actually happening.

With each boot removed, Vaella rose to her feet, her hands running down the smooth planes of his chest, his muscles twitching under her touch. The sensation was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, each caress sending waves of heat through his body.

Vaella's eyes met his, her expression a mixture of tenderness and desire. She traced the scars from the training yard that marked his chest, her fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Aemond's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer as their breaths mingled.

"Vaella," he whispered, his voice hoarse with longing and uncertainty.

Her hands paused for a moment before continuing their exploration, her touch light yet possessive. "Aemond, I want this, I want you" she said softly, her voice steady despite the intensity of the moment.

Aemond looked into Vaella's eyes, and he saw the same need reflected back at him. Slowly, he lowered his head, capturing her lips in a deep, fervent kiss, her hands now sliding into his long silver hair.

Suddenly the door to the chambers creaked open, and Aemond jerked away from Vaella, his heart racing in panic. Aegon stood in the doorway, an amused grin spreading across his face as he took in the scene before him.

"Aegon, I-" Aemond began, his voice filled with guilt and apprehension.

But Aegon simply laughed, shutting the door behind him and locking it. "I see that you decided to start without me," he said, walking over to Vaella and kissing her passionately.

“He is very eager-” whispered Vaella.

Aemond tried to apologize again, his words stumbling out in a rush. "I'm sorry, Aegon. I didn't mean—"

Aegon raised a hand to stop him, his expression turning serious but still playful. "I see the way you look at my wife."

Aemond blushed, his gaze dropping to the floor.

But Aegon stepped closer, placing a finger under Aemond's chin and lifting his head so their gaze met. "I don't mind it, brother. In fact, we both think you should join us."

Aemond's breath caught in his throat, stunned by his brother's admission. "J-Join you?"

Vaella nodded, her eyes warm and inviting. "If you don't want to, it's okay. You can leave, and we will never speak of this night again."

Aemond looked between Vaella and Aegon, his mind racing. The weight of the decision hung heavy in the air. Aegon began to pull off his own clothes, each piece falling to the floor with a soft rustle. When he was fully bare, he stood in front of Aemond, his body confident and unashamed.

"Aren't you just a little curious?" Aegon whispered, his voice low and enticing as he pulled Aemond in for a heated kiss, the intensity of it sending shockwaves through Aemond's body.

Aemond's mind reeled, the conflicting emotions battling within him. But the touch of Aegon's lips, the warmth of Vaella's gaze, and the tension in the room were undeniable.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he allowed himself to respond, his hands moving to rest on Aegon's shoulders.

Vaella stepped closer, her hands joining Aemond's as they traced the contours of Aegon's body. The three of them stood together, the air thick with anticipation and desire.

“Vaella” moaned Aegon as she slipped her hands around his waist and stroked his rapidly hardening cock.

“Do you want this Aemond? Do you want us?” asked Vaella softly.

Everything Aemond had ever wanted was standing in front of him, and all he had to do was say say-

“Yes. I want you”

Vaella smiled and moved towards the bed with a graceful, unhurried elegance, her hands reaching up to the thin straps of her nightgown.

With a fluid motion, she let the garment fall, pooling around her feet and leaving her completely bare. Aemond stood speechless, his gaze sweeping over her body, mesmerized by her body.

"Isn't she beautiful, brother?" Aegon asked, a hint of pride in his voice as he watched Aemond's reaction.

Aemond nodded quickly, unable to tear his eye away from Vaella. Her pale skin glowed in the soft candlelight, each curve and line a testament to her allure.

Vaella motioned for Aemond to come closer, her eyes filled with a mix of warmth and desire. Aemond hesitated only for a moment before stepping forward, his fingers shaking as he unlaced his breeches.

As he struggled with the laces, Aegon reached out, his hands steady and sure, and pulled them off, leaving all three of them bare.

"Come, brother," Aegon muttered, his voice low and inviting, as he sat next to Vaella on the bed.

Aemond took a deep breath, the weight of the moment settling over him. He joined them on the bed, his heart pounding in his chest. The closeness of their bodies, the mingling of their breaths, created a heated atmosphere that left him exhilarated and terrified.

Vaella reached out, her hand gently tracing the lines of Aemond's face, her touch soothing and reassuring. Aegon leaned in, pressing a kiss to Aemond's temple, his fingers combing through his hair.

“Kiss her brother-” whispered Aegon.

Aemond leaned forward and pulled Vaella into a heated kiss. With a soft moan, she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Aegon began pressing a series of soft kisses to Vaella’s shoulders as Aemond’s hands slid around her bare back, pulling her closer, as his kisses growing more fervent.

“My turn-” muttered Aegon as Vaella pulled away from Aemond who watched as Aegon wrapped a hand around Vaella’s throat and ran his tongue over her lower lip before kissing her passionately.

Aegon released then Vaella’s mouth and bent down to lick one of her nipples.

“Oh” muttered Vaella as she flung her arms over her face, as pearly white liquid began to leak from her breasts, running down her body in rivulets.

Aegon ran his tongue over the milk that had dripped from his wife’s rosy nipples and delighted in the sweetened taste.

“Come Brother-You have one, I’ll have the other”

Aemond leaned forward and slowly ran his tongue over one of Vaella’s nipples, his lips wrapping around the stiff peak.

“A-Aemond, A-Aegon” gasped Vaella.

“Hmmm” moaned Aemond as he continued to lick and suckle at her breast, gorging himself on her delicious mothers milk.

Aemond looked over at Aegon as they indulged themselves in worshipping Vaella’s breasts, their gaze locked upon one another.

Suddenly Aemond reached around the back of his brothers head and took hold of his roughly shorn silver tresses, pulling him away from Vaella and seizing his lips in a brutal kiss.

Savouring the taste the mother’s milk upon each of their tongues.

Suddenly Vaella let out an adorable squeak, Aemond looked and noticed that Aegon had his fingers inside her cunny.

“You should touch her too” exclaimed Aegon as his mouth once again descended onto one of Vaella’s breasts.

Aemond gently ran his hand down Vaella’s body and had to recite a number of the faith of the seven prayers to stop himself from coming when he felt how wet she was.

“I-Is she always-” rasped Aemond as he slipped a finger inside Vaella.

“-This wet?-yes, my wife-so sensitive” muttered Aegon.

“A-Aegon-please” whined Vaella as their eyes connected.

“Patience my sweet pearl” replied Aegon as his fingers began teasing her slick folds

Aemond watched with awed fascination as Aegon expertly fingered his wife, the way he used his fingers and thumb in tandem with one another to tease her little pearl.

Aemond knew that Vaella was close to her peak, as he could feel her cunny fluttering around the finger, he had inside her.

However, Aegon removed his hand and sat back on the bed, his amethyst eyes darkened with lust as he pressed his fingers against Aemond’s mouth.

“Taste her” growled Aegon as his brother took his fingers in his mouth.

“Delicious” muttered Aemond as he swirled his tongue around Aegon’s fingers.

Vaella clearly not happy at being denied her peak, began to whine impatiently.

“Aegon-“

“-Now wife. I want you to sit on Aemond’s face, whilst I suck his cock” exclaimed Aegon.

“Brother” exclaimed Aemond shocked and very aroused by the thought of his brother willingly putting his mouth-there.

“Before my marriage I indulged with a number of men, this is nothing new for me brother, trust me-I think you’ll like it” replied Aegon.

“We will take good care of you-Issa gēlenka zaldrīzes” whispered Vaella (My silver dragon).

Aemond nodded and reclined on the bed, his cock standing hard.

Aegon’s mouth was watering just looking at it, his little brother the absolute twat had truly been blessed.

The largest dragon in the world and a cock to match-no wonder he was so smug all of the time.

Vaella hovered above Aemond’s face, her knees splayed on either side of his head.

“Aemond”

“So pretty-" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue along Vaella’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Vaella her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it Issa dōna. Let me hear you” (My sweet).

“YES. It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Vaella.

“FUCK” groaned Aemond as he felt Aegon’s mouth around his cock.

Devouring his good sister’s sweet cunny as she sat on his face was one thing, but to do it whilst his brother sucked his cock was other worldly.

He enjoyed the feeling of Aegon’s mouth around his cockhead, his tongue teasing his slit, as the salvia dripping down his shaft.

None of the women that he’d previously experienced had ever made him feel this good.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Vaella, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Vaella "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“T-That’s it, fuck-Aegon” breathed Aemond, as his brother wrapped a hand around his cock and began to move in sync with his mouth.

“Oh" whimpered Vaella; her chest heaving as she began to roll her hips against him.

“That’s it, ride my fucking face” groaned Aemond, thrusting his own hips.

Vaella was giving off a slew of loud swear words, moans, and pleas, that anyone passing their chambers would surely hear as Aemond’s nose bumped repeatedly against her pearl.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“Come for me baby, come foryour qȳbor” moaned Aemond (Uncle).

Finally, he felt Vaella’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Vaella’s back arched taut as a bow and she screamed her release.

After a few minutes, Vaella moved off Aemond’s face and flopped down onto the bed beside him.

Vaella moaned quietly as she caught sight of Aegon sucking Aemond’s cock, she could feel herself getting aroused again, as she watched Aemond placed his hand on the back of his brother’s head, forcing him to take more of his cock inside his mouth.

Suddenly a naughty thought entered into Vaella's head and before Aemond could stop her, she bent down and began running her tongue along the part of his cock that wasn't in Aegon's mouth.

"SEVEN FUCKING HELLS" roared Aemond.

Aegon and Vaella shared a knowing look before they both began to take it turns slowly sucking Aemond's cock, taking him the brink only to stop.

"V-Vaella, s-stop-" groaned Aemond, he needed her, he needed her now.

"Yes"

“Come here” rasped Aemond, his chin still shining with her slick.

Vaella leaned forward and wiped her tongue across Aemond’s bottom lip before taking it in between her teeth and biting down gently.

“You naughty girl” muttered Aemond as he surged forward and pressed a kiss to her sumptuous soft lips.

One hand tangled in his brothers hair and the other in Vaella’s

“A-Aegon-enough-stop” groaned Aemond his hips stuttering, he could feel the urge to come building in his abdomen.

“Spoil sport” muttered Aegon as he wiped the spit from the corners of his mouth.

“I don’t want to spill in your mouth-”.

“And where do you want to spill your seed brother?” asked Aegon smirking.

“I-I w-want-“ stammered  Aemond looking around awkwardly.

“It’s ok-you can fill my wife‘s cunny with your seed-put a babe in her” replied Aegon.

“W-What?” exclaimed Aemond.

“Don’t you want your seed to take root, to see her all swollen with your child” muttered Aegon.

“B-But it would be a bastard” said Aemond.

“Not like anyone would be able to tell the difference, besides I know that you enjoyed seeing my wife round with child-imagine how good it will feel to know that it’s your child inside her”

Aegon was sure his brother was about to blow his load right there, judging from the way his eye rolled back into his head at every word that was spoken.

“Do you want that Aemond?” asked Vaella.

“Y-Yes” said Aemond as Vaella moved over his body, her slick folds rubbing against his cock.

Gods he was so hard, it was bordering on painful.

“Imagine-right here, your seed taking root, your babe-your son” said Vaella as she took his hand and ran it over her stomach.

Losing the remainder of his control Aemond seized her hips, and surged up, ploughing his hard cock into Vaella’s soaked cunt.

"AEMOND!" screamed Vaella.

"Gods. You feel so good" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck me, Aemond" urged Vaella, her tone bordering on desperate as she rolled her hips against his.

Aemond started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his wife squeezing his cock.

“Aegon-husband-please” breathed Vaella as she felt his warm chest press against her back, his hands gently caressing her sides as he pressed a series of gentle kisses along the back of her neck.

“Do you want my cock as well?” asked Aegon, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

“Y-Yes, please. I want it-I want you both inside me” moaned Vaella.

“I need to prepare you first” whispered Aegon as he took hold of the small bottle of oil that he’d retrieved from the nightstand.

Aegon uncorked the bottle and poured a generous amount of the oil onto his palm, spreading it over his fingers.

After discarding the bottle somewhere on the bed, Aegon reached down to her arse.

“Hm-yes, I-like it-please” whined Vaella, biting her lip.

“Be patient” urged Aemond as Vaella began to squirm against him.

Vaella gasped as she felt Aegon’s finger on her little rosette, and it felt so naughty, it was good.

“Yes, or no?” asked Aegon.

Vaella didn't even have to think.

“Yes, Aegon” moaned Vaella as he slowly inserted his finger into her body.

He worked in silence for a while, easing his finger in and out of her arse until she could take it easily.

Aemond began teasing her pearl with his fingers, his cock throbbing inside her.

Pulling out, Aegon added a second finger and brushed both around her hole.

“Yes, or no?” Aegon asked again.

“Aegon. I want you take my arse, I want both of you to fuck me until I scream out your names. I need to come, please. Do not deprive me any longer” begged Vaella.

Aegon let out a breath of air, but no words. Silently, he breached her arse once more.

Vaella screamed, “Oh god it feels so fucking good”.

Aegon continued to work his way into her tight space, his cock was like stone. When his fingers were fully inside her, he put his lips to her ear again.

“I'm going to breach your arse with my cock and fill you all the way up. It's going to feel so good, love, I can't wait for you to come around Aemond’s cock in your sweet cunt, whilst my cock shoved in your arse”

Vaella’s teeth were gritted, and she grunted low in her throat each time his fingers surged in.

“Yes” moaned Vaella loudly. Aegon slapped her buttock, and she wailed again.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy” moaned Vaella. She was pushing back against his hand, so he spread his fingers inside her, accommodating her to his size. At last, she was ready for him.

Aegon pressed the head of his cock to the entrance of her arse, and Vaella moaned in need, he pushed through her entrance and past her tight ring of muscle, swearing loudly as it gripped him unbelievably tight.

“Oh gods. Oh yes” moaned Vaella, flinging her head back. Aegon eased himself slowly into her tight anal passage, trying not to pass out from the sheer fucking bliss of it.  

Eventually, Vaella took his entire cock.

The three of them remained unmoving as Vaella got used to having both Aemond and Aegon inside her.

“I-I’m ready” whispered Vaella.

“We’ll go as slow-” muttered Aemond his hands resting on her hips.

“-as you want” said Aegon as he placed his hands on top of Aemonds and entwined their fingers together.

“OH-MY-“ shrieked Vaella as both Aegon and Aemond began to move, finding their rhythm and thrusting gently.

Both brothers moving in tandem with one another, a slow sensual pace, that drove Vaella to the brink of insanity.

"Faster, please" begged Vaella.

"Patience, Issa zaldrīzes" chided Aemond (My dragon).

“I-I’ve taken Aegon there before” admitted Vaella softly.

“Fuck” groaned Aemond at Vaella’s admission.

“I know but you’ve never taken us both at the same time” replied Aegon as he gave a quick shallow thrust.

“Yes, Aegon, just like that-" panted Vaella.

“Fuck” groaned Aemond as he felt her clenching around him.

“Oh-Aemond you feel so good” whimpered Vaella as she ran her hands over his arms, his shoulders and down his chest, digging her nails into his pale skin.

“Gods, Vaella" grunted Aemond, as he began to move.

"Fuck me, Aemond" whispered Vaella "Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me, filling me up. Give me your seed. I want another babe-”.

Aemond knew exactly what Vaella was doing, and he couldn’t help himself.

Vaella wanted faster and he was going much faster now. His pace increasing with every filthy word that dropped from Vaella’s luscious lips.

“Fuck Aemond” groaned Aegon, the force of his brother’s thrusts moving Vaella on his cock.

“A-AEGON-“ screamed Vaella as she reached behind her and wrapped her hands around the back of his head.

She craned her neck back and dragged Aegon’s head towards her, she wanted to feel his lips on hers as she took both of their cocks.

Aegon released his grip on Aemonds hands and slowly caressed her skin until he reached her breasts, both hands squeezing them as his tongue moved against hers, his cock thrusting inside her.

Both of them were cock deep inside her and it felt glorious, it was just a shame they’d waited so long to do this.

“Faster-I can take it-I can take both of you-please” stammered Vaella as she released Aegon’s hair from her tight grip.

Aemond and Aegon shared a quick glance before nodding.

Now they were both quickly thrusting in and out, the force of their combined movements shaking the bed, the headboard banging loudly against the wall.

Vaella was meeting them thrust for thrust.

“Aegon-Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Vaella.

Vaella looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her amethyst eyes alive with lust, and her pale skin shining with sweat.

“Make my brother a father-give him a child” exclaimed Aegon.

Vaella clamped down around Aemond’s cock so hard he could hardly move. That, combined with how glorious Vaella looked, pushed Aemond over the edge, the heat shooting across his abdomen.

“God. Vaella” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed inside her wet heat.

Aegon followed not long after, his cock twitching as he spilled inside Vaella, his head falling to her shoulder.

His chest heaving with every breath he took; he had never come so hard in his life.

“Aegon-“ whispered Vaella as he gently pulled his softened cock from her.

“You were so good” replied Aegon as he laid on the bed next to Aemond.

“Hm-so perfect for us” said Aemond as he also pulled his cock from Vaella and moved over so she could lay in between the brothers.

Their sweaty bodies pressed against one another as they came down from their high.

Afterwards, the three of them lay together in a tangle of limbs, the room quiet save for the soft breaths of Vaella, who had fallen asleep between Aemond and Aegon.

Aemond, still grappling with the intensity of the evening, found his mind unable to rest.

"Aegon," Aemond whispered, turning his head slightly to look at his brother. "Were you serious when you said you wanted me to get Vaella with child?"

Aegon nodded, his gaze steady. "Yes, I was serious."

"But why?" Aemond asked, confusion evident in his voice.

Aegon shrugged casually. "You’re so good with Aerion and Valaena. And since you have no plans to marry any time soon, I thought it would be nice for you to have a child with the woman you've been in love with since you were a boy."

Aemond tried to deny it, shaking his head. "Aegon, it's not—"

"It's okay to feel the way you do, brother," Aegon interrupted gently. "I know you curse the fact that you're a second son, that if you had been firstborn, then you would have married Vaella instead. I hate that I took the one thing you've always wanted, besides Vhagar, of course."

Aemond's heart tightened at his brother's words, the truth of them cutting deep. He had harboured feelings for Vaella for as long as he could remember and seeing her with Aegon had always been a bittersweet torment, but as Vaella and Aegon were the oldest their marriage was seen as a way to unite the family, especially after the incident on Driftmark.

"But I love Vaella too," Aegon continued, his voice softening. "She's the only good thing I've ever had in my life, and our children-I never knew I could create something so pure and beautiful. I can't give her up, but I can share her with you, if you're willing."

Aemond looked at Aegon, stunned by the sincerity and generosity in his brother's eyes. "What does Vaella think of this?" he asked hesitantly.

Before Aegon could respond, Vaella stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She smiled sleepily at both of them. "I couldn't possibly turn down the chance of being sandwiched between two beautiful dragons," she said, her voice laced with affection and amusement. "But you two need to shut up and get some rest. If we want to increase the chances of Aemond's seed taking root, then we must be ready to lay together again very soon”

Aegon chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to Vaella's forehead. "You heard the lady, Aemond. Let's get some rest."

Aemond, still processing the whirlwind of emotions, nodded. As he lay back down, feeling Vaella's warmth against him and Aegon's reassuring presence, he finally allowed himself to relax and drift off toe sleep.

In the weeks that followed, the bond between Vaella, Aegon, and Aemond grew stronger. Their nights were often spent together, indulging in each other’s pleasure.

Sometimes, Aegon would be content to sit and watch as Aemond fucked Vaella, with his own hand bringing him to completion.

It pleased him to see his brother grow in confidence as he began to take Vaella in different positions, his particular favourite was when he would watch Aemond take Vaella from behind, the raw sensuality of it was truly a sight to behold.

There were even times when Aegon and Aemond would take turns in experience their newfound desire with one another, but as Aemond wasn’t fully comfortable with fucking Aegon or getting fucked by him they only indulged one another with their hands and mouths.

There were also moments of soft intimacy when Vaella would allow Aemond to rest his head on her bare breasts and she would stroke his hair, whispering words of love and comfort to him as he spoke to her of the days events and some moments from his childhood.

Aegon never mentioned those moments, it was something private between Aemond and Vaella and he allowed it because he knew his brother needed it, as he himself needed it from time to time.

It wasn’t sexual, it was comfort and his sweet wife provided them both with what they needed without question and Aegon loved herall the more for it.

Given the frequency in which Aemond spilled his seed inside Vaella it wasn't long before she gave them both joyous news: she was expecting Aemond's child.

Aegon's happiness for his brother was boundless. He watched as Aemond's usually stoic demeanour softened with wonder and tenderness whenever he was near Vaella.

As the weeks turned into months, Aemond would gently stroke Vaella's swollen stomach, whispering words of love and promises to their unborn child.

Aegon would smile every time Aemond's face lit up with pure joy upon feeling the babe move within Vaella. It was a sight that filled Aegon's heart with warmth, knowing that he had played a part in granting his brother this happiness.

Deep down, Aegon knew that others might not understand or accept their unconventional relationship. The world beyond their chambers was filled with judgment and rigid expectations.

But Aegon didn't care. To him, this arrangement was an act of brotherly love and kindness. He had given Aemond the chance to experience the love he had longed for since childhood, and that was worth any scorn or misunderstanding they might face.

One evening, as they all sat together in the quiet of their chambers, Aegon observed the tender moment between his brother and his wife. Aemond's hand rested gently on Vaella's belly, his eye filled with adoration as he spoke softly to their unborn child.

"You'll be a great father, Aemond," Aegon said, his voice sincere.

Aemond looked up, his expression a mixture of gratitude and love. "Thank you, Aegon. I-I never thought I could have this. It means more to me than I can say."

Vaella smiled, her eyes shining with affection for both men. "We are a family," she said softly, her hands covering Aemond's. "And this child will be loved by all of us."

Aegon nodded, his heart swelling with pride and contentment. "Yes, we are a family. And nothing will change that."

Aegon and Aemond paced anxiously outside the birthing room, their faces etched with worry as Vaella's pained screams echoed through the halls.

Both of their mothers were with her, providing support and comfort, but the birthing room was no place for a man. They could only wait, helpless and hopeful.

Hours passed, each scream driving a dagger of fear into their hearts. Then, suddenly, the screams stopped, replaced by an eerie silence. Aegon and Aemond exchanged a glance, their curiosity and concern mirrored in each other's eyes.

Just when the silence became unbearable, the sound of a newborn's cry filled the air, bringing with it a rush of relief and joy.

Aegon and Aemond embraced quickly, sharing in each other’s relief when the door to the birthing room opened, and their mother, Alicent, appeared, her face alight with happiness. “A son!" she exclaimed; her voice filled with pride.

As the two men entered the room, Aegon went straight to Vaella, pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead. "You did wonderfully," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

Aemond hovered awkwardly by the door, unsure of his place in this intimate scene. The maester and midwives bustled around Vaella, ensuring she was comfortable and cared for.

Once the maesters and midwives were finished taking care of Vaella, Aemond exchanged a curious look with Rhaenyra who nodded her head at him and gently requested that everyone leave the room to give Vaella, Aegon, and Aemond some privacy.

Alicent questioned why Aemond was allowed to remain, but Rhaenyra simply smiled, ushering her out of the room before closing the door softly behind her.

"Aemond, come here," Aegon beckoned, his voice warm and inviting.

Vaella, her face radiant despite her exhaustion, gently placed the tiny babe in Aemond's arms. "M-My son," Aemond whispered, a tear slipping down his cheek as he gazed at the newborn in wonder.

"What are you going to call him?" Aegon asked, his hand still holding Vaella's.

Vaella looked up at Aemond, her eyes shining with love. "His father should name him”

Aemond thought for a moment, his mind racing with possibilities before he settled on a name that felt right, a name that he’s always liked "Rhaegar," he said softly.

Aegon smiled approvingly. "A fine name."

Aemond carefully sat on the edge of the bed, cradling his son. His heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness and fulfilment.

In that moment, as he looked at his son and then at Vaella and Aegon, he felt a profound sense of belonging and love

After Rhaegar was fed and had fallen asleep in his cot, Aemond and Aegon lay on either side of Vaella, who was fast asleep. The room was bathed in a gentle glow from the hearth, casting a warm light on the peaceful scene.

Aemond, still absorbing the reality of the day, whispered, "It still doesn't feel real that I have a son."

Aegon laughed softly. "Wait until you have more than one child."

Aemond turned his head to look at his brother, his eyes wide with surprise. "M-More than one?"

Aegon shrugged, his tone casual but thoughtful. "It's really up to Vaella how many children she's willing to birth since it's her body. But we did discuss wanting to have a large family shortly after we got married, so who knows."

Aemond considered this, a mixture of joy and concern playing across his features. "Our secret would be harder to keep if I father more children with Vaella, they already question why my chambers remain empty most nights-"

Aegon turned to face his brother, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "That's why Vaella and I have spoken about moving to Dragonstone. She is heir to the Iron Throne, and as heir, the castle traditionally belongs to her"

Aemond furrowed his brow, his sense of duty conflicting with his desires. "I am the Commander of the City Watch. I can't just leave my post to travel back and forth to Dragonstone. And I don’t like the thought of being parted from my son, or any future children."

Aegon laughed again, his tone reassuring. "Aemond, you would be moving with us, if you wish. You could retire from your post as Commander of the City Watch and become Vaella and the children's sworn protector. That way, it makes sense why you would move to Dragonstone with us."

Aemond let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, a smile breaking across his face. "You’ve really thought of everything"

Aegon grinned, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "It was actually Vaella's idea. She's incredibly intelligent and resourceful. We're lucky to have her."

Aemond's gaze softened as he looked at Vaella, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. "Indeed, we are."

Alicent stood at a distance, watching Aemond, as he prepared to leave. Vhagar looming behind him, her ancient eyes observing the scene with quiet understanding. Alicent's heart was heavy with concern and curiosity.

"What is going on, Aemond?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. "Giving up your position as Lord Commander of the City Watch—it’s not like you."

Aemond turned to face her, his gaze steady. "Mother, I was grateful for the opportunity given to me by Rhaenyra, I tended my duty well, but I wasn’t happy."

"And being a sworn protector will make you happy?" Alicent pressed. "I know you, Aemond. You are not one to stand idle, waiting for threats. You have to keep busy."

Aemond's eye softened slightly. "There is plenty on Dragonstone to keep me busy. Surely, you must know that I don't just love training with the sword. I also love to learn. The library on Dragonstone has items and histories from Old Valyria that I've longed to read ever since I was a child. And ensuring the safety of the heir to the Iron Throne is an important role."

Alicent scoffed, her suspicion clear. "I see how you look at Vaella." She stepped closer, her grip firm as she took hold of his arm. "Please tell me that Rhaegar is not your son."

Before Aemond could respond, Rhaenyra's voice cut through the tension. "All set for the journey to Dragonstone?"

Aemond nodded, turning away from his mother. "Yes, everything is ready, Your Grace"

Rhaenyra's presence was commanding as always, her eyes holding a knowing glint. "Vermithor and Sunfyre have already taken wing, and the hatchling dragons are already on board the ship."

Aemond bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you, Your Grace. I hope my replacement as Lord Commander of the City Watch will live up to the high standard I've tried to set."

Rhaenyra smiled. "I have faith in Daeron. And thank you, Aemond, for becoming Vaella's sworn protector, it warms my heart to know that she will have you at her side"

Aemond nodded, his resolve firm. "It is my honour."

He turned to bid farewell to his mother. "Goodbye, Mother. I will write as often as I can."

Alicent's eyes were filled with unspoken words, but she nodded, a tight smile on her lips. "Be safe, Aemond."

With one last glance at his mother and sister, Aemond climbed the rope ladder attached to Vhagar's saddle. He strapped himself in, taking a deep breath before giving the command. "Sōvēs" (Fly).

Vhagar's mighty wings unfurled, and with a powerful beat, she lifted into the sky.

Rhaenyra and Alicent stood side by side, their eyes fixed on the receding form of Vhagar as the ancient dragon flew above the ship sailing through Blackwater Bay. The powerful strokes of Vhagar's wings stirred the air, creating ripples across the water below.

Alicent broke the silence first, her voice low but insistent. "You know, don't you?"

Rhaenyra turned to her, her expression one of polite curiosity. "Know what?"

"That Rhaegar is really Aemond's son," Alicent stated, her tone a mix of accusation and despair.

Rhaenyra's lips curved into a serene smile. "I know nothing of the sort."

Alicent pressed on, her voice rising slightly. "It's wrong, Rhaenyra. The boy is illegitimate and a violation of the sacred vows of marriage."

Rhaenyra paused for a moment, considering Alicent's words before she placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Try not to think about it too much. They have their legitimate heir, and it's not like anyone can tell."

Alicent tried to argue further, her moral compass sharply pointed. "But—"

Rhaenyra shushed her gently, her voice soothing yet firm. "As long as our children are happy, that's all that matters."

Alicent huffed, clearly annoyed but unable to refute Rhaenyra's logic. The tension in her shoulders relaxed slightly as she sighed.

"Come," Rhaenyra suggested with a playful glint in her eye. "Let's have some cake. I'm feeling quite peckish."

Alicent looked at her, torn between her principles and the reality of the situation. Finally, she relented, her expression softening. "Alright. Cake it is."

Living on Dragonstone was a breath of fresh air for Aemond. He still woke up at the arse crack of dawn to train with the sword, often dragging a protesting Aegon along with him a time or two.

However, Aemond found his true element in the library. The scrolls and ancient texts were everything he had dreamed of.

He would often sit with Rhaegar on his chest, reading to his son from a book composed entirely in High Valyrian, and even though he was just a babe, Rhaegar loved nothing more than falling asleep listening to his father’s voice.

Aemond had his own chambers, but he rarely used them and even Vhagar seemed much happier with the warmth and all the sleep the old girl could ever want.

Once Vaella was sufficiently healed from birthing Rhaegar, she welcomed both Aegon and Aemond, and the three of them resumed their intimate encounters.

One of Aemond’s favourites was their encounter in the hot springs in an underground cavern. The warmth and seclusion added a new layer of intimacy and excitement to their bond.

Aegon in particular enjoyed himself as swimming meant no clothes, and more often than not no clothes led to far more exciting things.

When Rhaegar turned two, Vaella expressed her desire for another child. This time, Aemond fathered a sweet daughter, whom they named Vharla in honour of his dragon.

A year later, he fathered another son with Vaella, named Aerys. The final babe Vaella birthed was a daughter, fathered by Aegon, who they named Daenys.

After six children, Vaella decided she’d had enough of birthing children and was content to enjoy her life with her husbands.

Yes, husbands. Because Aegon may or may not have sneakily arranged for the three of them to marry in a traditional Valyrian ceremony, with only Rhaenyra, Daemon, Helaena, and Cregan as witnesses.

If anyone dared to ask him about it, Aegon would deny all knowledge of such an event taking place and trace the scar on his palm with subtle fondness, a reminder of the sacred vow shared by three dragons in love.

[emmcfrxst]

I’m wondering how Laura would react if reader and OldMan!Logan got into a fight? Maybe they tried to keep it away from her but unfortunately the girls too much like her father and ends up hearing most of it.

Ugh and imagine if she saw Logan storming off not realizing that he left you in tears…

(I’m feeling extremely angsty tonight.)

TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, TRAUMA, ILLNESS, UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS, SUICIDAL IDEATIONS & GOD (I guess????) Set before Logan gets, as nonnie put it, chest-fucked, so during the period of time everyone’s trying to escape the fucking Reavers while figuring shit out. It got too long so it’s under the cut

You don’t argue that often with Logan— your relationship is solid and although communication was rocky at first, he’s made significant progress and is able to hold a serious conversation without immediately jumping back into his defense mechanisms (misguided anger, deflection and ultimately fleeing were his initial reactions when you tried establishing proper communication about feelings in the beginning). His progress, however, is rendered completely useless when the conversation is about his rapidly declining health; he’s immediately on the defensive, body going rigid and eyes going dark, jaw clenched so hard you’re afraid he might shatter it— he hates thinking about his newfound mortality, not necessarily because he’s afraid of death (it’s actually quite the opposite, he seeks death in a way, longing for the pain and the nightmares to just stop once and for all) but because he knows that dying means leaving you on your own and that’s something he can’t bear to think about— the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you is immeasurable; it overwhelms him entirely because he knows that losing him would break you and it makes him feel physically ill to think about the consequences. So in true Logan fashion, he blows you off whenever you bring up your concerns, stating that he’s fine, and the anger he feels at himself and his body for failing him ends up being taken out on you through biting words he regrets as soon as they slip from his tongue.

“I’m the one who’s fuckin’ dying, for Christ’s sake, quit your fuckin’ yapping.” It’s a phrase he regrets uttering for multiple reasons: he hates being rude to you in any way, shape or form because you’re the last person who deserves to be subjected to his emotional constipation— you’ve taken all of his broken parts into your hands and pieced them back together with your unconditional love and unwavering patience, you’ve made him feel loved, you’ve made him feel alive, and most importantly, you’ve shown him that he doesn’t have to feel guilty or bitter about his existence. You’ve done so much for him throughout the years and he fucking hates himself for letting his emotions get the better of him like that. The other thing that bothers him deeply about his reaction is the verbal acknowledgment of his condition; it’s something that he somehow believes can be ignored, as if denying it could make it any less real. Acknowledging that he’s dying makes bile rise up his throat— it’s a bitter feeling, really, because he used to wish for death everyday before he met you, heart and mind torn to shreds from years of horrific abuse and unwavering violence; he even prayed to whatever God was out there, despite not being a believer, to just let him go, to free him of the chains of trauma that bound his psyche. His prayers were left unanswered, Logan only accumulating more trauma as the years went by— he can’t count how many times he’s cursed God for making him go through what he’s gone through, needing someone to blame and wishing for a way to end it all. Ironically, Logan’s immortality only seems to waver once he starts treasuring life; it feels like a stab in the back, a cruel joke orchestrated by God who finally decided to answer his prayers now that he wishes he could take them back. The feeling of betrayal only seems to further fuel Logan’s anger towards his illness, which, combined with the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you alone, causes him to act out whenever you bring up the subject. You take offense in the words thrown at you, hurt by the reminder of his impending death and the way he navigates it, arguing back that you do this because you care about him, for fuck’s sake. Unfortunately, that only seems to make things worse, upsetting Logan further and bringing back years’ worth of feeling unworthy of your affections.

“That’s your fuckin’ problem bub. I told ya you shouldn’t waste your time with a man like me.” he physically winces as he utters those words, wishing he could unsee the way it makes your entire face crumble with despair— it’s a slap in the face, really, to be brought back to square one and have him reject you in this way. Logan flees before either of you can say anything else, slamming the front door behind him and walking in no particular direction until he feels like he can finally breathe again, leaving you in tears at home. Laura, although playing in her makeshift room at the time, hears the whole exchange as clear as day due to her enhanced senses, her fists clenching with rage when her ears pick up the sound of your stifled sobs. You feel her before you even hear her, your body tensing as a pair of small, skinny arms wrap around your middle, a head resting along your spine. After the initial alarm of feeling someone touching you, you can’t help but let out a watery laugh at just how easy it seemed for her to surprise you, turning around in Laura’s arms so you can look down at her. A frown is etched onto her features, lips puckered into an angry pout as she hugs you tighter, insulting Logan in spanish under her breath. It makes you laugh again, this time softly, your hand smoothing out her hair as you sniffle.

“I’m okay, Laura. I’m okay.” she glares up at you, unconvinced, giving you another squeeze and reluctantly allowing her features to relax when you gently run a fingertip across the furrow of her brows— despite not being together for long, you find that you’re able to soothe Laura quite easily; there is a connection between the two of you like you’ve never felt before, a bond that you feel like you were always destined to have. Your heart warms at the obvious way the child seems to care for you, wanting nothing more than to make all of her worries disappear.

“He made you cry.” her voice is so quiet that you almost miss it, a soft, indignant noise leaving her at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks. You sniffle again, free hand moving up to wipe at your eyes, the other caressing her hair lovingly.

“I know.” you don’t say that it’s okay because it’s not— Logan crossed a line that you thought had been worn down ages ago, and you’ll be damned before you ever teach Laura that hurtful words can be brushed aside so easily without an apology. It’s for her as much as for you; you’re aware that you deserve respect even when Logan is upset, and you’re not about to stomp down on your self-worth to coddle him when he’s done something wrong. He’ll apologize, you’re sure of it, but until that happens, you’re not going to pretend that his reaction was acceptable. It’s something you categorically refuse to do, and it’s one of the many reasons Logan fell in love with you in the first place. You know your worth.

“I’ll be okay soon.” you tell her honestly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She studies you for a moment longer before nodding her head, allowing you to lead her onto the couch where she curls up next to you.

You’re asleep by the time Logan starts walking back towards the house but Laura hears the crunching of sand and gravel under his shoes, quietly untangling herself from you and moving to the side of the door, frown back on her features. Logan barely has the time to pass the threshold before she’s on him, jumping onto his back like a feral animal and punching his shoulders repeatedly, growling when he grabs her and holds her still, visibly confused and irritated by her behavior.

“Don’t even think about it.” he warns her when she makes to bite the hand that holds her down, frowning down at her just as hard she does up to him. She struggles in his hold, trying to hit him again, making him grunt in pain.

“You made her cry, coño.” the words make Logan freeze in his tracks, eyes falling on your sleeping form on the couch, noting the way your eyes look reddened and the tear tracks on your cheeks. Nausea immediately strikes him like lightning, the expression on his face seeming to satisfy Laura as she stops struggling, frown still evident on her face. She sits up and watches silently once he lets her go, staying nearby to see the situation unfold.

You awake to a calloused hand gently running over the plane of your cheekbone, eyes opening to meet Logan’s remorseful ones. He’s sitting on the ground next to the couch, looming over you in a way that makes you feel safe like no one else ever could.

“Hey.” his voice is hoarse but soft, thumb swiping back and forth over your skin in a silent act of comfort. It makes you smile despite your grogginess, and you feel more than you hear Logan releasing a soft, relieved inhale through his nose.

“Hey.” you answer him just as softly, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes again, content to feel him again.

“I’m sorry.” the words sound heavy coming out of his mouth, a grim expression taking over his features as he wipes off the remnants of your earlier tears.

“I know.” you reply simply, turning your head to press a gentle kiss against the roughened palm of his hand. It makes him exhale shakily, shoulders squaring as he prepares himself for the discomfort of the following words.

“Didn’t mean to snap at you, baby. I just… I feel helpless, I guess, and it fuckin’ pisses me off. Never had to worry about dying and leaving you alone before.” he says the words slowly, trying to make the last sentence sound like a joke, tone falling flat. You can tell he’s uncomfortable with the discussion but he pushes through, causing you to feel a rush of sympathy— he’s trying, you know he’s trying, and that means something to you.

“I know. I feel helpless, too. But you have to remember that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, it’s you and me until the end.” he laughs wetly at your words, nodding his head and swallowing thickly before speaking again.

“I know.” this time it’s his turn to provide reassurance, the two little words more than enough for the both of you. The feeling of his warm lips connecting with your forehead makes your eyes flutter shut, hand coming up to lay over the one he’s curled around the back of your neck.

“Kid’s kicked my ass for making you cry.” he mumbles against your skin, the amusement in his voice clear. It makes you snort in surprise, unaware that Laura had intervened before you woke up.

“Did she? Well, you kinda deserved it.” your answer is playful, tone devoid of its previous heaviness, your eyes meeting Laura’s over Logan’s shoulder for a brief moment before focusing on your lover once again.

“That I did.” he agrees simply, a soft, tender, apologetic smile on his face. You lean further into him when he kisses your nose, heart feeling lighter than it had in a while.

You were going to be okay.

[messylustt]

obsessed — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : getting a call from ghostface is never good. especially when you find out who lives under the mask—the dorky boy who you drunkenly kissed one night.

contents : kissing. a little bit of touching. obsessive ethan, blood + mention of dead body. finger in mouth. wc 2.9k.

pt one pt two pt three

god, he was obsessed. the way you danced, swaying your head without a care in the world. a red solo cup was in your grasp, as you took spacial sips.

ethan’s hands itched to do something he shouldn’t. you were a target, and his infatuation would only make you more so.

but then he catches sight of a guy slowly dancing up to you. his eyes ran down your form hungrily, and ethan nearly broke his teeth, as he clenched his jaw.

you and ethan knew each other. you were in the same friend group, but ethan never allowed himself to get closer than that.

now watching your drunk ass begin to half heartedly grind on the stranger made him crack. he pushed off the wall, skirting past the sweaty people until he reached you. grabbing your shoulders he brought you towards him and away from the stranger.

you crashed into ethan, your balance not ideal at the moment. ethan eyes the guy with a glare, as you turn to face the man again. ethan slips his hand around your waist, as you grab his shoulder, more so for balance than anything.

you look up at ethan with furrowed brows. “ethan? i didn’t see you.” you smile, your mind and mouth drunk.

ethan spares you a glance and restrains from touching you any further.

“hey angel, don’t tell me this is your boyfriend.” the gruff voice of the stranger meets both ethan and yours ears.

you open your mouth but ethan beats you to it. “yeah, i am.”

your brows further crease as you gaze up at him. “boyfriend.” you mutter out. “boy friend.” then you realise something, your forehead smoothing. in your drunk state you clued it up to ethan agreeing to being your ‘boy friend’, with that exact space inbetween.

ethan’s grip tightens around your waist as the stranger speaks. “well, your girl seemed to enjoy grinding her ass on me a little too much.”

ethan didn’t like the way he spat the words while holding a smug expression. “she’s clearly drunk, asshole. don’t let it get to your head.” i’d be happy to stab you ten times if you don’t get her out of your head too, ethan doesn’t say.

the stranger scowls but backs up, disappearing into the crowd. ethan immediately turns to you, his breath hitching when he realises how close your watching him. your smile is wide and your eyes wondrous.

“fuck,” ethan mutters under his breath, before he drags you off the dance floor and into the hallway.

you subconsciously brush a strand of hair from ethan’s eyes, and they grow wide in response. he stops, though your grip is still on his arm.

“you ‘av pretty hair.” you nearly giggle.

ethan is focusing anywhere other than your lips, neck or eyes. all things making him slowly lose control. “i do?”

you eagerly nod, as you reach up to run your fingers though it. he freezes, watching you closely. you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you’re drunk. ethan chants this in his head. but then you lean closer looking concentrated.

you run your thumb along his bottom lip, brushing something off, but all ethan can focus on is your face and the feel of your hand. ethan can’t help reaching his own hand forward to brush your bottom lip.

“oh, do I have a hair there too?” you question, about to raise your hand to replace his when he suddenly steps closer, your back hitting the hallway wall. ethan continues to watch your lips as he runs his thumb along the bottom again, and as you open your mouth to speak, he lets it brush past your lips.

his thumb grazes your tongue, as you stare at him. through your drunken haze you close your mouth, your lips wrapping around his thumb almost delicately.

ethan’s breathing turns choppy, his chest heaving up and down as he watches you begin to drag your tongue along his thumb. he steps forward again, now pressing his entire body against yours. he feels as though he’s going to pass out by the way your looking at him. wide innocent eyes, slightly heavy from being drunk. drunk. you were drunk.

ethan pulls his thumb out of your mouth, but he can’t seem to find the strength to step away. you lick your lips free from your spit, and ethan holds back a groan. fuck, he wanted to kiss you.

your hand reaches up to tap under his chin playfully. your mind was a blur. “you taste like alcohol.”

and he looses whatever self control was left as he mutters a ‘christ’ before smashing his lips against yours.

your head hits back against the wall, as ethan’s hands wander your entire body. his tongue is dancing with yours as he explores. he wants to erase every other guys touch. he wants you to only remembers his. but you won’t remember this. your far too drunk. and so, ethan forces himself to break the kiss.

but he ends up just leaving your lips. he kisses your cheek, then your jaw, all the way down to your neck. your hand is back in his hair, making him groan. he laps at your skin, tasting your perfume, as it burns his tongue.

his grip has tightened around you, his head practically burrowed into your neck, as you gasp. “oh, god,” he breathes, getting far too carried away.

his hand drifts down from your hips, under your skirt. gripping your thigh he lifts it over his hip. perfect access as his hand dips down to your panties, rubbing one stripe along your covered pussy. you jolt making him smile. he continues to rub you, trying different pressures. it was torture trying to refrain from ripping your panties clean off. but ethan wanted you to remember this.

as compensation for his restraints he kisses you, hard, as he groans into your mouth, before he pulls away with a bite to your bottom lip.

he pushes himself away from you, setting a good distance to regain control. you touched your lips, before catching his gaze. he immediately looks away, scared he’d repeat what he’d done.

he harshly runs his hands through his hair, as you step forward.

“was it not good?” your question came off so innocent. your state made you have no filter, resulting in you spouting exactly what you were thinking, no room for embarrassment.

ethan’s eyes softened as he caught your gaze. he shook his head. “that’s not why I stopped.”

“oh.” you say with a nod, before looking down to fiddle and straighten your skirt.

fuck, you looked almost sad. ethan felt terrible, wanting so badly to continue. but you would hate him in the morning.

“come on, i’ll take you home.” ethan forced himself to say, as he held his hand out.

you quickly look up, with a shake to your head. ethan frowns, stepping forward.

���it’s okay. i’ll get home.” you smile before turning down the hallway and towards the exit.

ethan rushes after you, as you both reach outside. the cold night air contrasted drastically with the humid environment inside.

ethan grabs your arm, making you spin back. you look at him questionably. you didn’t appear hurt or anything which only made ethan’s brows furrow in confusion.

“your not mad at me?” he asks.

“mad at you? why?”

ethan breaths an almost sigh of relief, thinking he hurt you. but then your almost dismissive comment made his heart ache. did you not want to kiss him?

ethan tightens his hold on your arm. “ethan?” you ask. “i’m gonna head home now.”

ethan shakes his head. “i’ll take you.” without leaving anymore room for disagreement, ethan pulls you to his car.

;;

ethan panted, his face hot under his mask. blood pooled by his feet, as he tilted his head to inspect the dead body. it was a student in the same class as tara. his dad had hoped that this would be a cut too close to home, maybe strike some fear in the carpenter sisters.

he cleaned his knife with one swipe of his gloved hand, before he stepped over the body. he was in an alleyway, halloween festivities easily heard throughout the city. he was prepared to remove his mask when he caught sight of a familiar head of hair.

you walked along the street, gaze distracted by your phone, as you most likely headed home. though a certain part of ethan wanted to make sure you did get home safe, and alive.

quinn had mentioned you as a possible first kill, but ethan was quick to come up with some excuse about how it wouldn’t hurt the carpenter sisters in the way they wanted. even so, ethan was still worried that quinn or his dad might go against his words and choose to kill you in their own time. he couldn’t let that happen.

so, he left his bag to be collected later, and began to follow you.

it wasn’t strange to see a ghostface walking around. it was halloween of course. so, ethan was quick to blend in with the other horror icons.

you skirted past people, reading the messages left by mainly mindy. she was ranting on about who she thought ghostface was. ethan was her top suspect. you had laughed it off, originally thinking how stupid that would be. but soon remembered that anyone could be ghostface, whether they were a tall, intimidating football player, or a dorky kid from econ.

your phone then began to ring. your brows creased not recognising the number. you hesitantly place to your ear, darting your gaze around. “hello?”

“hello, y/n.”

you sucked in a breath. of course it was fucking ghostface. you didn’t slow your steps as you made sure you were continuously around people.

“what do you want?” you ask, keeping your voice steady.

“oh, nothing much, just…maybe your head in a little parcel for your friends to find at their doorstep.”

you gulped down arising vomit, as you tried to look around you. “where would you send it first?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at passing hooded people. “sam, tara and quinn? or would it be to mindy—”

ghostface cuts you off. “what about ethan?”

you clench your jaw. “why ethan?” your steps have hurried.

“why not?” ghostface taunts. “I’d love to see his reaction to your head in a box.”

your breathing has quickened.

“would he scream? cry? or would he feel murderous.” ghostface genuinely sounds as though they’re enjoying themselves.

“ethan wouldn’t kill.”

“I suppose not.” ghostface replies. “I guess that’s more my sort of hobby.”

“where are you?” you ask, seeing too many fake ghostfaces along the street.

you quickly reach your apartment complex, rushing up the stairs before pausing at your front door, keys ready. “where are you?” you ask again. but then they hang up.

you pull the phone away from your ear, breathing harshly. you unlock the door, swiftly re-locking it with a slam. you don’t waste time to run to the kitchen to grab a knife. ghostface could be in your apartment.

holding the knife out and ready, you scrolled through your contacts, calling your friends. not one picked up.

“fuck.” you breath out.

your next contact to try was ethan. but as you were about to press call a smash could be heard from your bedroom.

whipping your head up you gripped the knife a fraction tighter. you weren’t going in there. ghostface would have to come out.

there was a moment of tense silence before another smash was heard, but this time it sounded more like a head was being thrown against a wall. you pause. a head?

you rush to your bedroom door, making sure your knife pointed straight before you turned the handle.

the door creaked open and to your surprise you saw ghostface on the floor, looking either knocked out or dead. you hoped for the latter. but when you raised your gaze you were even more shocked to see another ghostface looming over the previous. their head slowly turns to you and you let out a yelp, shutting your bedroom door in haste.

what the hell? two ghostfaces were fighting? now that you’d never seen before. you backed up as you watched the door handle twist.

“don’t—” you rasp out as ghostface appears in the doorway. they don’t step any further though, just watching you instead. “get the fuck out!” you exclaim.

ghostface tilts his head in an inspection of you. “is that a way to treat your saviour.” ghostface’s barratoned, hidden voice speaks.

“what?” you choke out, still keeping the knife at arms length.

“I can’t say I’ve saved many.” ghostface continues. they step once and you back up.

“your afraid of me?” ghostface almost sounds pleased.

“of course I’m afraid of you.”

“I’m glad.” ghostface nods. “I didn’t want you to act stupid.”

you’ve backed up into the kitchen again as your hip knocks your phone. you remember you were about to call ethan. you quickly grab it pressing call on his contact. “come on, pick up,” you mutter.

then you hear a phone ring. and it sadly wasn’t yours. you freeze, looking up to see ghostface much closer than before. you raise your knife as your ear locks onto where the sound is coming from.

your eyes dart down to ghostfaces hip. buzz, buzz, buzz. “you…” you drift off, darting your gaze back up to their face. “your not…”

your face has fallen as you just stare. then ghostface sighs, bringing out the phone. “I could have stolen this.” ghostface half heartedly tries.

“what…” your words are lodged in your throat. and that’s when ghostface pulls off their mask.

you stare straight at ethan, who’s chest is heaving from the previous fight.

you pause. “huh?” you hip hits against the counter as you keep yourself steady. ethan was fucking ghostface?

he smiles. “hi,” he has the audacity to sound genuine and sweet.

“ethan? You’ve got be kidding me.” you breath out. “w-what?”

“sorry, I didn’t really mean for you to find out this soon.” he shrugs, stepping further into the kitchen and resting his mask on the counter. you back around until your on the opposite side.

“if you didn’t want me finding out, then why did you have your phone in your pocket?” you ask warily.

“maybe…I did want you to find out, just not right here…right now.” he waves his tainted knife in the direction of your room. “that bitch thought it was ok to come kill you.”

“I kissed you!” you suddenly exclaim, just now coming to that realisation.

ethan smirked. “I was hoping you’d remember.”

you shake your head. “no, god.” you mutter, your hand tightening around the kitchen island.

“I’m glad you do remember, because shit did you taste good. even with all that extra alcohol on your tongue.”

you sucked in a breath. “if I would have known you were ghostface—”

“you would have what?” ethan cuts in. “not kissed me?”

“yes!” you exclaim.

ethan tsks, swaying his knife back and forth in disapproval as he nears you. you skirt around the island again, keeping an eye on ethan.

“I was hoping we could do that again.” he begins. “with you sober this time.”

“I’m not gonna kiss you.”

“well that’s a shame.” he rears closer, a quick step away. “but I guess I can kiss you elsewhere.” you back up, as he tauntingly stalks forward.

you shake your head, as he just nods in response. “maybe your neck?” he grabs your shirt, yanking you towards him. you scream before he’s breathing over your mouth.

“or maybe your thighs.”

as you struggle against him, he manages to twist you so that your hips collide with the kitchen island as he grabs your waist.

he leans so close, caging you in. “or maybe I can finally taste somewhere a little more…intimate.” he licks at your earlobe as you struggle against him. he grins before biting your ear. you jolt against him, certainly not used to this version of ethan.

he then leans slightly back to hover over your quivering lips. “or will you let me kiss you?” his voice has turned soft, somewhat pleading.

you breathing stutters as he licks his lips. “how bout I make you deal?”

you catch his gaze. “if you let me kiss you, I’ll leave. I understand it’s a lot to process.” he almost sounds caring and it’s making your head spin.

he tilts his head, his curls bouncing a fraction. “well?”

you gulp, glancing down at his lips. he would leave.

“how do I know your not lying?” you whisper.

“because I just saved you from getting murdered.” he pauses, reading your expression. “plus having consent turns me on a little more than not.”

you breath, watching him for a moment. then you find yourself nodding. he’ll leave.

ethan can’t help but smile as he pulls you closer. “thank you.” he whispers, sounding so gentle, before he’s smashing his lips against yours. you lean slightly back as his tongue grazes your own. the force of his desperate kiss forcing you to lean. ethan grabs at your waist, fisting your shirt as he laps at your bottom lip and tongue. you move your head with his, finding a passionate rhythm.

ethan groans into your mouth as you both become just teeth and tongues. he finally pulls away, breathless.

you breath heavy as you place your hands behind you on the counter. both of your chests are heaving, but just as ethan had said he backed away, grabbing his mask and placing it over his head again.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[empress-simps]

Foolish Heart

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader CW: James being oblivious to reader’s feelings, Sirius teasing, and as always- language. (1.7k words) Summary: You’ve had the biggest crush on James ever since you can remember, so imagine how hard it is to see your best friend since diapers pine over Lily Evans. The other Marauders decided to make James realize who he truly likes all along.

Note: I was listening to Hozier’s (my love) “Almost (Sweet Music)” When I suddenly thought of this idea randomly, soooooo yeah, enjoy! My updates might be slower now since I have school, but my requests/asks are still open if anyone wants to talk to me! I'd still be active on Tumblr : )

Be still, my foolish heart. Don’t ruin this on me.

It was your mantra, every time you saw James. Everything he did was perfect in your eyes; the way he hummed, eyes twinkling as he thought of a plan on how to execute their pranks, down to the way he laughed. It was heavenly, dancing around the air, lingering- as if a beautiful melody waiting to be heard by you.

And yet, you were a silent audience, watching from a far distance as he basks in the glow of Lily Evans.

Lily. The name itself was a symphony, a haunting refrain that echoed in the back of your mind. She was everything you weren’t, couldn’t be—confident, radiant, and effortlessly captivating. Her hair, a cascade of fiery red, framed her face like a halo. And James? Well, he was her devoted troubadour, strumming his heartstrings to the rhythm of her laughter.

He was hypnotized by Lily’s glow; and you were fixed on his warmth. His laughter was like sunlight filtering through leaves, warming the coldest corners of your aching and bitter heart. You wondered if he knew the ache of unrequited love—the way it makes you feel like you’re drowning in heartache, making you gasp for air.

You’d known James since you were in nappies, a strong bond forming from cheeky smiles, little adventures, empty promises, bruised knees, and grass-stained bottoms. Childhood friends; both of you are inseparable. But, unknowingly to the bespectacled boy, you slowly saw him in a different light, making you crave more about what your current relationship with him is.

James was the sun, and you were the moon—forever caught in his orbit, but never close enough to touch.

You watched as he stumbled over his words, trying to impress Lily with Quidditch tales and his pranks. And you? You were the silent observer, scribbling poems in the margins of your potions textbook.

As you settled in your usual seat next to James in the great hall, Sirius grinned, a mischievous glint evident in his eyes. “Sit beside me, pretty girl!”  He pulled you next to him, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he grabbed an apple and handed it to you. “Good morning to you too, Paddie.” You rolled your eyes playfully, obliging and sitting next to the long-haired boy and grabbing your favorite fruit from his grasp.

Remus, the ever observant one out of the group knowingly looks at Sirius as if to say, ‘I know what you’re doing’. Peter only mumbled a ‘good morning’ before going back to shoving his breakfast in his mouth, blissfully unaware of the brewing tension.

James frowned; he didn’t like the change. Not. One. Bit.

This was new- you not sitting beside him? Can someone pinch him right now since the sod thinks he might be dreaming.

James kept his mouth shut, although he couldn’t help but glance every now and then at you and Sirius chatting across the table, sporting a frown as he stabbed the eggs with a rather excessive force before showing the food on his mouth. Of course, his actions didn’t go unnoticed in the eyes of Sirius Black.

“Something wrong, Prongs?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the grin on his face as he leaned in. Never once did James think he would like to see Sirius’ smirk wiped off his face.

“Y/n sits beside me.” His jaw clenched.

You tried your best to act nonchalantly, fighting off the blush forming in your cheeks as you felt the all too familiar butterflies in your stomach.

Ah, the heartache in those words—the unspoken longing. Remus had seen it before, masked behind his bravado. James Potter, the mischief-maker, the Quidditch star, the one who chased after Lily Evans with unwavering determination. But the werewolf knew better. He saw the way he looked at you when he thought no one was watching. The way his laughter softened when you were near. The way he defended you even when you didn’t need defending.

“So? Make Red sit beside you or something.” Sirius raised a brow. You looked at Sirius with a confused look on your face, just what was up with him today?

Red. Lily Evans. The one who James practically confesses his undying love for every week. You know damn well you were not Red, and that you will never be Red.

You were Y/n- the one who held his hand when he was scared of the dark, who followed him on little adventures throughout Potter Manor when you were kids, and the one who exchanged secrets with him with hushed whispers under the moonlit skies.

But being the sod he is, he did. He had hurt you again without even knowing as he invited Lily next to him.

It went on for several weeks, each passing day hurt more than the last. It seemed like he was slowly becoming out of your reach, but Sirius was there, offering you support, and secretly trying to make James realize that he’d been hopelessly in love with you ever since the beginning of time.

The unspoken tension between you grew thicker. Sirius and the others watched, amused and exasperated. Remus, the wise one, shared knowing glances with you. Peter, ever loyal, tried to be mediator between James’s heart and his head.

Then it finally happened, James couldn’t handle it anymore. He cracked.

You were the fresh air he takes in, the anchor that keeps him still, a constant presence in his life. James Potter knew it would hurt if you weren’t by his side, but Merlin- he didn’t know it would hurt this much. He wants you- he needs you.

One stormy night in the Gryffindor Common room was the time he decided to tell you what’s going on in his mind. It was the perfect timing, really. Only him, you and the other Marauders were present in the room, the other students already headed to the dorms, as it was almost curfew.

James sighed, finally standing, and walking towards your direction, his eyes were vulnerable. “Y/n,” he began, voice trembling as he stumbles over his words. “I’ve been an idiot.”

You hummed in agreement, trying to look busy as you reread the last sentence over and over in the page of your book, “That’s not new, Potter.”

“Lily—she’s not the one I want. It’s always been you.”

It felt like the whole world stopped, the fire that was roaring suddenly stilled, your friends sat silently, frozen in shock.  All you can hear is your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

James’ gaze bore into yours, his eyes searching for a response. His hand trembled where it reached for yours, holding it tightly, fearing you'd pull away from his touch.

“James, what? If this is some kind of ploy to play with me-“

“Y/n,” he said, his voice raw, “I’ve loved you since we were kids. I was a bloody fool to deny it every time I see you."

“James,” you whispered, your throat tight, “what about Lily?”

He cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he chuckled lightly "Evans had noticed it even before I did. Said I was a knobhead for not realizing sooner." he said.

James’s gaze softened.  “You’re the girl who followed me on little adventures, who defended me during Quidditch matches, who knows my deepest fears and silliest dreams. I was fucking terrified to ruin our friendship just because I saw you more than my best friend.”

Biting your lip, you felt the all-too-familiar tears pricking your eyes. His confession made your insides warm, fuzzy, and light. You never told him how you truly felt- keeping it to yourself as you watched him chase after Lily, being supportive of him even though it kills you inside. You could deal with that; you’d be happy as long as James would be happy. Even if it’s with Lily.

Although, he was here, in front of you. Telling you that he also loves you, that he hadn’t realized it until years after.

“James, you were never just a best friend to me.” You whispered, “I was scared- terrified that you would never see me in the way that I saw you. I didn’t tell you because I would rather love you in the sidelines rather than lose you altogether.”

James’ eyes softened, he leaned closer to you; his forehead touching yours, his breath fanning your lips as he smiled softly. “I wouldn’t let you do that now, you’d be in the center of my life, where you belong.”

He placed his hand gently on your back, pulling you closer to him. “Let’s not waste any more time, yeah? We already did that for most of our years already.” James didn’t wait for you to reply when he leaned down and kissed you, cupping your face gently.

Neither of you heard your friends cheering, the fire crackling, or the rain tapping out your window.

In that moment, it felt as if you and James were the only ones in the world, you were in your own little bubble of happiness. Both of you had foolish hearts, and it had finally found each other after years and years of looking.

[poguelandiarafe]

tough guy | rafe cameron

paring - rafe cameron x gf!reader

warnings - mentions of violence and getting stabbed

summary - rafe is telling you, topper and kelce about his day and brings up the fact he got into yet another fight. you don't like this so decide to put him in his place, knowing you're the only one who can (not set in any particular season).

--------

to anyone else, dating rafe cameron would be scary, a struggle even. he's a man known for his reputation and will do anything to uphold it. whenever he enters a room all eyes are on him and it amazes you how he commands such attention without any effort at all. his features are strong and bold, just like his personality, and it's this that drew you in in the first place. the way he kept everyone at a distance, not letting anyone in.

except you.

you love a challenge and were determined to be let into his world. you're headstrong, stubborn, and know exactly what you want in life, stopping at nothing to get it. you're hot too, of course, but it's your determination that rafe thinks made him fall for you. it's like he's dating himself your personalities are so similar.

and you love to push his buttons, calling him out about whatever dumb shit he does.

--------

you're sitting on the sofa at tannyhill, rafe's arm slung over your shoulder to keep you next to him as he rambles on about another reckless thing he's done today. topper and kelce are scattered around the living room, taking turns to finish the joint you don't want anymore, listening to rafe. they're seemingly invested in whatever he's saying whereas you sit there scrolling through instagram, paying barely any attention to him.

"and then he pulled a knife on me," he laughs, "was fucking crazy."

your ears perk up, throwing his arm off your shoulder and sitting up to properly look at him. he looks at you briefly before going to carry on what he was saying but you cut him off.

"are you fucking crazy?" you ask, finger poking into his chest.

the room goes silent. topper and kelce freezing, in shock you spoke to rafe like that without him immediately shouting at you.

his eyes narrow at you and his brows furrow, "no? what's that meant to mean?"

"you were reckless, rafe. you can't start throwing punches every chance you get. jj literally pulled a fucking knife on you and you're here laughing about it." you say, voice raising from anger.

"you don't tell me what to do." rafe says, jaw clenched from being spoken to like that in front of his friends.

you match his intense stare, "i think i have every right to if you're putting yourself in a situation where you could die."

"he tried to sink my boat, i'm not just letting that shit slide! it's not like he'd actu-" he starts before you cut him off.

"don't you dare say he wasn't serious! what if he was, huh?" you snap, getting up and standing in front of him, "what if he actually stabbed you and i got a phone call saying you were in hopsital or that your body had been found? then what?"

it's quiet for a moment, rafe thinking over what you said. he feels guilty now, not really thinking about the consequences if something were to actually have happened, his adrenaline having clouded his rational judgement at the time.

"alright, alright. i get it baby. i'm sorry." he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"you're not invincible just because you're rafe cameron. i don't want anything to happen to you."

he stands up, pulling you into him but you don't budge, arms crossed over your chest.

"i'm sorry for being reckless," he whispers into your hair, before he smirks, "but don't act like you don't love that i'm rafe cameron."

you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him now, "not when you're acting like this, i don't. just... promise to cool it. it hurts me when you come home covered in blood and bruises from yet another fight you've been in."

"okay, i promise i'll try. you're lucky you're hot." he mutters.

"you're lucky i put up with your shit." you counter, a smile on your lips.

while you and rafe were busy arguing, topper and kelce were silently smoking the joint, sharing looks every so often as they listened in.

"how does she get away with speaking to him like that?" topper whispers to kelce in disbelief.

"i have something he can't live without." you quip with a wink, overhearing him.

"okay, gross." kelce says.

"his words." you shrug.

[hanmaitani]

Upset

PAIRING - Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader WC - 0.9K GENRE - fluff/angst CW - highly suggestive SYNOPSIS - wakatoshi always knows how to handle when you're upset with him

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Wakatoshi’s voice cut through the static in your mind as you sat on your couch, staring ahead at your tv. Despite the worry lacing his voice, you refused to acknowledge him. “You’re upset.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, an observation from your fiance who knew way too much about you.

Of course you were. “I’m not.” Your tight voice and clenched jaw said otherwise. The way you stabbed your spoon into your ice cream again only further disproved your statement.

Wakatoshi sighed heavily as he sat down on the couch next to you, taking your face softly into his hands to turn you to face him. “I know that face. That’s your ‘I’m upset with you’ face.” You rolled your eyes and looked away again, turning to face your ice cream again. “And your eyebrows - they get really expressive when you’re mad.”

You scoffed. “Do you pay that much attention to your little reporter girlfriend?” Wakatoshi groaned. Of course that was what this was about. Tobio had tried to warn him about the article, the one that you had no doubt seen as well.

An article that was just someone looking to stir up drama. Photos taken from a perfectly curated angle, looking like a hug with an interviewer was more than it was. It was a small interview that he’d agreed to, an expose on his relationship with you actually, the inside scoop about the upcoming wedding. An interview at a cafe that was now being misconstrued in an article claiming that Wakatoshi had a new relationship.

“You know that you’re the only one I care about that way.” He tried but you scoffed lightly at him. “My love?” You refused to look at him. You knew you were being dramatic, but it bugged you that people were trying to ignore you existed, trying to imply that his upcoming marriage to you could be written off easily.

You huffed again at that thought, a small pout on your lips as you stabbed into your ice cream yet again. “I’m not upset.” You missed Wakatoshi’s hands leaving your face until they were picking the ice cream container out of your hands and setting it down on the coffee table in front of you. “Hey!” You protested, reaching for it, only for your efforts to be thwarted when his hands landed on your waist. He made it seem effortless, turning your body to situate you on his lap. Your legs quickly found their spot straddling his thigh. “What are you doing?” You complained, going to separate yourself from him but being stopped by his grip on your waist.

“My love.” He sighed and pressed a kiss to your cheek quickly. “I only have eyes for you.” You pouted but stopped struggling, looking to the side. He moved his head into your sight again and pressed a kiss to your other cheek. “You’re the best thing that has,” your pout lightened a little bit as you caught his eyes finally, “and ever will,” he pressed a kiss to your nose and watched it crinkle up, “happen to me.” He caught your lips in a soft kiss, feeling your pout melt away as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pulled back after a few moments, looking at your face as he smoothed out the remnants of your pout left on your brow. “Are you better now?”

“I still don’t like her.” You mumbled, tucking your head into his shoulder, now ashamed that you’d spent so long upset. You knew that you had no reason to be, that your future husband was a loyal teddy bear and only yours.

He hummed in acknowledgement. “I know, my love.” His words were soft, his lips finding the corner of your mouth as he spoke. His grip on you tightened slightly and you couldn’t help but find yourself suddenly hyper-aware of the position you were in as Wakatoshi flexes his thigh underneath you while leaning into you to connect your lips again. You couldn’t help the small noise that left the back of your throat as your thighs unintentionally squeezed around his. “Oh? You like it when I do this, don’t you?” He teased lightly, a small smile on his lips as he pulled them from yours.

“Will you shut up? I’m still mad at you.” You mumbled half-heartedly as you chased his lips down, reconnecting them.

Wakatoshi’s hands stayed on your hips, his grip dragging your hips up his thigh and creating a friction that had your grip on him tightening. Soft noises slipping out of your lips and into the kiss. It was easy, with how his hands gripped you and moved you to get lost in his kisses, to forget that you’d been upset about something that seemed so trivial now.

Wakatoshi hummed against you, relishing in the gasp you let out as his thumb dipped between your legs, pressing into your shorts. “Look at that.” His voice had dropped lower now as he pointed out the wet spot growing on your shorts. “Wet for me already and I’ve barely done anything.”

Your face heated up in slight embarrassment and you pushed at his chest as you tried to swing your leg off of him. “Fuck you, I’m still mad.” You grumbled, half-heartedly trying to pull out of his grasp.

“No no no.” He chuckled, grabbing onto your hips again and pulling you back down onto his lap. "Get back down here, we’re not done yet."

TAGLIST -

@intergalacticrory @tsukiran @awkwardaardvarkforever @all-in-the-fandoms @mightyknight501

@lacunaanonymoused @pearl-blue-musings @qichun @megumuro @s0uldarling

@samus-onigiri-stand @seiri-ously @deepenthevoid @albakugo @winniethepooh-lover

@stunies @all-in-the-fandoms @little-miss-naill @ivy-taylorsversion @lumestar

@theycallmenanamisgirl @iluv-ace @appalost @mayoforthewin @rockrose-blossoms

@afire24

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

is it casual now?, pt. two

pt. one

my friends call me a loser ‘cause i’m still hanging around. i’ve heard so many rumors that i’m just a girl that you bang on your couch. i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn’t lose. you said, “we’re not together,” so now when we kiss i have anger issues. you said, “baby, no attachments,” but we’re knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?

around one in the morning, steve can’t take the tossing and turning anymore. he calls robin and she just says she’s coming over. she rides her bike all the way to steve’s house in the dark even though he tells her over and over not to do that. she just does.

he both loves and hates that she does.

steve’s on the couch in the living room again, moved back downstairs when he realized sleep wasn’t coming tonight. he’s sitting right where eddie had looked at him and rejected him. right where eddie had decided steve wasn’t worth the trouble. even in the privacy of his own mind, steve knows he’s not being exactly fair, but he can’t stop his thoughts from circling over what happened, over and over and over again, until the night is all smooth around the edges, all the good stuff rubbed away.

so that’s where robin finds him, wrapped in the navy comforter he’d dragged from his bed with the television glowing on mute. the house is dark and she just lets herself in like she always does.

“i take it the talk didn’t go so well,” her voice is light and steve can tell she’s trying not to add any inflection to the statement, trying hard so it doesn’t sound like a question.

“i don’t know, doesn’t every great love story start with someone storming out after the confession?” steve tries to make it a joke, to make it sound flippant, but his voice comes out flat. robin’s mouth quirks up a little any way and he knows it’s something like a pity laugh, but it does soothe the stabbing pain in his chest just a little.

“you wanna talk about it or you wanna let me take you to bed and big spoon the shit out of you?” robin reaches out to run her hand lightly through his hair, just once, before she lets it fall back into her lap. she’s wearing her pajamas, the wide leg of her flannel pants stuffed into her bright yellow rainboots, like she’d left the house in a hurry, couldn’t bother to change or find proper footwear.

steve sighs. “not a whole lot to talk about. i told him it would be kinda cool to maybe… date but he said he already told me he doesn’t really do that. and he’s right. i was just being dumb, i guess.”

“is that how you said it?” there’s a crease between her eyebrows now and she’s got that expression on her face that she always gets when she’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“i mean, not, like, word for word or whatever, but yeah, that’s the general gist of how it went.”

her expression shutters and her jaw sets. “right, well. he doesn’t have to be a super mega asshole about it.”

“he wasn’t,” steve tells her, earnestly. robin is eddie’s friend too and he doesn’t want this whole dumb thing ruining that too. they could all use all the friends they could get at this point, especially ones who get it, whatever it happens to be. “i promise. it was just… my mistake. he did tell me, from the beginning. i just misunderstood.”

robin’s face softens slightly. she reaches her hand out to lock her fingers with his and they sit there in the glow from the tv for a long moment, silent. “let’s go to sleep,” she yawns finally, standing from the couch. “everything will be better in the morning.”

~*~

robin is half wrong, but she’s also half right. things are better in the morning. steve doesn’t feel like his chest is going to cave in at every small wrong move and he doesn’t feel like crying every five seconds after his extensive cry sesh in the shower.

but eddie still isn’t there.

~*~

it’s been weeks since steve has seen eddie. steve’s not stupid. he’s aware that eddie’s actively avoiding him, despite the fact that steve has called the trailer multiple times trying to apologize. he’d left a confusingly vague message with wayne, one he’s sure had made no sense if it was even relayed to eddie at all. picking the kids up from hellfire at the wheelers is a newly torturous experience with the kids now waiting for him on the curb awkwardly instead of making steve wait an extra fifteen to twenty minutes on the wheeler’s gross plaid couch in their basement that perpetually smells like corn chips. everyone seems to be clearly aware that something is up. he’s sure he sees sympathy in mrs. wheeler’s eyes when she waves to him from their front door, thanking him for driving the kids home.

steve’s not exactly sure where it all went wrong. he knows now that he’d blindsided eddie; it was more than apparent now that eddie hadn’t even thought about what he was doing or how steve was feeling. steve spent hours thinking about eddie every day and it was clear now that that was not reciprocated. which is fine, he guesses, but he had thought he and eddie were friends first. they’d saved the world together after all. that tended to bond people forever, he’d assumed, just simply based on his relationships with robin and dustin and even nancy. he hadn’t really accounted for losing eddie completely. but steve was clearly fucking clueless when it came to eddie munson, so maybe he’d actually been wrong about everything all along.

he ping pongs back and forth between feelings of self-pity mixed with self flagellation and feelings of intense, white-hot anger at eddie. one minute, he’s sure this is all his fault, that he really is the dumbest person on planet earth and he definitely deserves to have people leave him constantly when he’s so fucking stupid all the time, can’t even keep his stupid fucking mouth shut and his stupid ugly feelings to himself for one time in his stupid fucking life. the next, he starts to blame eddie for what happened instead, blames him for not understanding steve at all. it’s eddie’s fault for not seeing what was right in front of his stupid fucking face. but after a couple of minutes of that, he’s back to being certain it really was his fault after all.

so after almost a month of no returned phone calls, no surprise visits at work just to say “hey” because eddie couldn’t sit around all day waiting for steve to get off his shift, no casual touches as they chat while eddie packs up his dnd gear, steve finally takes the massive fucking hint for what it is and stops calling. he begs jonathan to pick the kids up from hellfire, lying about a new shift schedule at work. he refuses to drive the kids anywhere that eddie might potentially be, even when the kids insist eddie really won’t be there. he’s trying so hard to convince himself that actually he’s the one avoiding eddie and not the other way around. he’s barely even hanging out with robin anymore, besides work. she seems to get that he needs time alone right now though. steve’s never been more grateful for a platonic soul mate.

but after this long, agonizing month of constantly rearranging his own life to help someone else avoid him, steve’s exhausted. he’s been having more nightmares than usual, ones where the people he loves all take turns dying in his arms. it’s a wednesday when he finally has the night off and he decides to treat himself with sixteen candles and a pizza. he orders his pie and fifteen minutes later he’s pulling his wallet from his pocket before answering the knock on the door.

“what do i owe you?” he asks after the door swings open. he’s got his eyes on his wallet in his hands, fingers moving over the bills folded together.

“oh, um,” a familiar voice stutters. steve’s eyes snap up. “i—“

steve feels like he can’t get any air for a minute. eddie’s just standing on his front step, staring.

steve’s throat feels dry. he has to swallow a few times before he can get any words out, but eddie beats him to it anyway.

“can we, uh. talk?” eddie looks nervous, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. steve steps out of the way, silently letting eddie pass him on his way into the house. the door swings shut and it’s the loudest sound steve’s ever heard in his life.

they stand in the small foyer with its huge ceilings and steve can feel the cold of the tiles through his thin socks. eddie makes no move to enter further into the house, so neither does he. steve shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence of his own home.

“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, after a long stretch of silence that makes it clear eddie’s not actually about to speak. eddie’s eyes keep flitting around the small space, landing everywhere but steve’s face. eddie shrugs, looking over steve’s shoulder into the kitchen behind him.

“it’s not—“ eddie shakes his head, cutting himself off. steve wants desperately to hear how he’d finish that sentence. almost as desperately as he doesn’t.

“i ruined it.” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i tried calling the trailer… to apologize. left a couple messages with wayne but.” he shrugs.

eddie grunts. steve wishes he knew how to make this better. he can’t tell if the grunt means eddie got his messages or not. he’d thought he was good at deciphering eddie’s noises by now.

“look,” steve says, finally frustrated with the whole thing. “we were kind of friends before we started… hooking up or whatever. i get that you wanted something casual and that i ruined it. i get that i fucked it up and i made you uncomfortable and—i just get it, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong. you were always honest. i was just seeing what i wanted to see and i let myself believe something that wasn’t real. so. i would really like for us to be friends again. i hate this, eddie. it really sucks. i don’t like not seeing you around. i just—this sucks.”

eddie nods, swallowing thickly, but he doesn’t really seem like he’s hearing steve.

“yeah,” eddie finally agrees. “this sucks.”

steve gets the sense that eddie means more than just this whole dumb thing between them, but he’s trying not to be in the business of making assumptions about what eddie means anymore.

“i have a pizza coming,” steve sighs. “if you want to stay?” he can’t help but feel hopeful and he knows this is too much, to invite eddie to stay when they haven’t even really made up yet, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. he’s never been good at this.

eddie glances into the living room and steve’s not entirely sure what he sees or what he imagines, but he watches as eddie swallows again, eyes darting quickly to steve’s face, just once, before he gives his head a small shake. “no, i don’t—i should go. but we’ll see each other, okay, harrington?” and he says it like a question but steve thinks he knows it’s not really a question at all. steve will see eddie any time, anywhere, whenever eddie asks.

steve tries to smile before shuffling toward the door and watching eddie go.

~*~

it’s another ten minutes before his pizza even gets there and when it does, steve’s feeling even more sorry for himself than he has in the last month since he’d asked eddie out. he makes it halfway through the movie and the pizza before he starts to consider calling robin. it’s been a while since they’ve just hung out and that’s been entirely steve’s fault. she hasn’t said anything because she knows steve inside and out, but steve is really missing her right now.

he’s just about ready to pull on his shoes and pick up the phone to tell robin he’s on his way to get her when there’s a knock at the door. half of him is confused, the other half is convinced it must be robin, having sensed his desire for her company. he stands and makes his way to the door, a half smile on his face as he swings it open for the third time tonight.

“look, what happened before is not why i came here, so wait and just let me talk and then you can say whatever you want but if you don’t let me just get this out, i’m never going to say it and i… you deserve to hear it so i need to say it, for real, right now,” eddie’s practically panting as he pushes past steve.

“um okay,” steve tries to get out but eddie glares at him.

“shut up, shut up for real, okay.” eddie crouches down in the foyer of steve’s house, his head in his hands between his knees. his voice comes out a little muffled, but steve can still hear him pretty clearly. “you didn’t ruin anything. you didn’t. really. i ruined it. i ruined a really good thing.”

steve feels like his chest is being hollowed out but he bites his lip, desperate not to interrupt.

eddie groans and steve can see his fingers tense and release in his own hair. “you were so sweet, on the couch. the last time.” he says it like steve could’ve forgotten and steve feels a blush rise on his cheeks. “you… you looked so soft and gooey and hopeful and i—i fucked it up. because back when this whole thing started, it seemed like a miracle that you’d even look at me. like. you’re… you and i’m just me. what the fuck.” eddie laughs almost hysterically. steve feels his fingernails cutting into his own palms with how hard he’s trying to stay still and silent. eddie still hasn’t looked up from where he’s holding himself tight. “and it kept happening and happening and happening and i—i’ve never… i’ve never.”

“oh,” steve can’t help but breathe out in surprise.

eddie shakes his head a little, seems to forget himself and look up and then he’s just staring at steve’s face. he swallows again and steve can see his hands shake. “no, i mean, i’ve… but never… more than once. never all the time.” now that eddie’s looked steve in the eyes, he can’t seem to look away. his eyes look so huge and glassy from where he looks up at steve from his place on the floor. steve feels his heart clench. his fingertips ache. “never like that.” steve nods. “and then you didn’t leave. you didn’t run or pretend it didn’t happen. and you let me pretend it was something it wasn’t, like we weren’t… like it wasn’t… important.” steve’s brows furrow in confusion. “because i was lying. obviously. of course i was. it wasn’t casual. you’d never be casual. not for me.”

“i don’t—“ steve suddenly can’t breathe.

“wait. please.” eddie’s eyes go soft around the edges. “i fucked it up, stevie, because i was lying the whole time. and i thought you were just letting me lie because… i don’t know. i don’t know why, because i know it wasn’t casual for you either. it was all over you. and that was really, really scary.” steve falls to his knees on the foyer tiles, vaguely aware of the dull ache, before sliding closer to where eddie is crouched. he whimpers, just a little, when eddie holds out his palm, presses it to the center of steve’s chest to keep him from getting too close. “hold on, baby, i just. i have to say it, please. gimme a second, i’m just…” eddie gives his head another small shake, as if he’s trying to clear it. “i’m sorry, i guess, is what it really all comes down to. i’m sorry i let you think you weren’t important. i only realized you didn’t know that night on the couch and i… i guess i saw some plausible deniability. a way to walk away without getting, like, totally annihilated. and that’s, you know. my whole issue.” eddie swallows again, hand fisting into the fabric of steve’s shirt. “i was scared. i ran. because… because i love you, stevie. i was falling in love with you this whole time and trying to act like i wasn’t. because i was an idiot. and i couldn’t be the one to break first. but what a stupid, fucked up way to think about it, huh? i love you, man, and you deserve to hear it and feel it and have it, is really what i’m trying to say. i just love you.”

somewhere in all of that, eddie had used his grip on steve’s shirt to pull him in closer so their noses are practically touching. steve can feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes, can feel eddie��s breath on his lips.

“you love me?” even steve can hear how incredulous his own voice sounds.

eddie huffs out a laugh and steve can feel it on his skin. “yeah, dude. of course i do. how could i not?”

“dude,” steve repeats, cause like… really?

“is that all you have to say?” eddie slides his nose along steve’s, nuzzling, skin warm. steve’s eyelids go heavy.

“you left me hanging for, like, a month, bro,” steve tries to joke, but his voice sounds too breathless.

“yeah,” eddie murmurs. “i’m so sorry, baby. can i kiss you?”

and all steve can do is nod.

~*~

the next morning, steve wakes up to soft sunlight filtering in through the blinds he forgot to close last night. he feels hazy, all syrupy and warm, before he bolts upright in his bed. or tries to. because just as he’s moving, he notices the heavy presence on his right arm.

“too early,” eddie groans, shuffling naked under the covers. “turn it off.”

“turn what off? the sun?” steve smiles as he turns to spoon his equally naked body behind eddie. he drops a kiss to eddie’s bare shoulder.

“mmhmm,” eddie hums, and steve can hear the smile in it.

“hey,” steve says, before they both fall back into sleep for a few more minutes. “i love you, too, by the way.”

“oh yeah, by the way?” eddie snorts.

“better than ‘i love you, dude.’”

“oh, you think so?” eddie shifts in steve’s arms until he’s somehow gotten on top of steve, holding steve’s wrists above his head. steve can’t help but thrust his hips upwards in eddie’s direction. “yeah, okay,” eddie concedes, breathless, grinding his own hips downward. “you’re right. whatever you say, beautiful. can’t argue with that. super compelling argument.”

steve has to kiss him just to shut him up.

[a-ikuoliver]

w/c: 1.8k tw: blood, bloody makeout, don't look at me notes: this is my first time writing toga i want her so bad tagging ml @papersirens <3

too much. too much. too much. too much. too much. too much.

friends, teachers, parents, that's all they'd ever say — every school report, every play date, every fight some variation, always too something.

"himiko," her friends would sniffle, pouting at the edge of the playgrounds, rubbing palms into their watery eyes, tossing himiko's doll at her feet, "mama says you play too rough."

too rough. too rough. too rough. too rough. too rough.

"himiko. let go." older know, she knows to obey, to loosen her grip on her best friends hand, not to argue, not to pout. "you're hurting me."

a painful pang hits her heart as miu's hand slips from her grasp, her hand flopping uselessly to her side; why didn't miu want to hold her hand? keep her close? hold her so hard she won't slip between the gaps?

too hard. too hard. too hard. too hard. too hard.

"himiko," miu's voice is soft, like feathers, like cotton, like her lips.

"please, himiko? i need to practice, yumiko said naruhito is going to ask me out friday." her voice is sweet, like sugar, like peaches, like her tongue.

practice. that's all it was. her first kiss already not really her own, it belonged to naruhito. like miu did.

"toga!" her shout is sharp, like a knife, like a razor, like glass, shattered into tiny shards at her feet.

"why would you do that!" the back of her hand comes away red when she glares at the blonde, himiko's pointed canines grazing against her bottom lip, she just wanted her, wanted her love, wanted all of her.

"you're too rough, boys don't want to kiss like that."

too much. too hard. too rough. too overwhelming. too suffocating. too much.

miu was right. no one wanted to kiss her. no one wanted to walk hand in hand. no one wanted to love her. no one wanted her affection.

"himiko," your voice is soft, like cotton, like feathers. "please, angel."

your voice is different than miu's. lower. hungrier. your grip is bruising, clutching her hips like your life depended on holding her in your hands, painted nails raking over her burning skin beneath the knitted dress.

you're breathless when you say her name, like being in her gravity sucks the oxygen from your lungs, like miu sounded talking about naruhito before she kissed toga.

your lips are less than an inch away from hers, glittering, citrine eyes staring into yours, finding nothing but the same insatiable desperation mirrored from her own; nothing like the eyes that came before you, no apprehension, none of the disappointment, the fear.

you slot between two plush thighs, pushing her dress higher on her hips with your movement, one hand sliding down past her belly button, ghosting over her hips to move to the back of her thighs, squeezing the pillowy fat there hard in your hands, gripping her like you're worried she'll disappear, slipping through your grasp.

"kiss me, please, kiss me."

himiko wants to speak, to wield a sharp tongue before you can cut her with yours, to tell you your affection meant nothing, that she was indifferent, nonchalant, unaffected, just like miu had been. another swift squeeze to her ass has her head falling back onto plush pillows instead, a low, drawn out sigh from her parted lips.

your bed is squishy, like miu's, the scent of clean cotton and your perfume filling her nose, muskier than miu's had been, the scent clouding her mind the more she sunk into the comfortable cushions.

soft.

aren't you worried she'll slice and stab and rip the softness apart? claw and cut and tear through the sweet-smelling fabric until she was surrounded by fragile feathers, floating down around her as she lies in the centre of her destruction?

you can feel her heart pounding in her chest, practically hear it in the silent room (save for your panting as you kiss her cheek and jaw) when her thighs slip apart absentmindedly, the short woven dress sliding higher on her hips at the movement, exposing just a sliver of cotton panties, already wet at the centre.

"you want me to say it again, angel? i'll say it as many times as you want to hear it." you're panting against her skin, smiling lips planting another kiss beneath her jaw, hot breath tickling the hair at the nape of her neck the more you begged. she's certain you can taste her erratic heartbeat when you lick at her pulse point, smell her desperation, her fear. like a fawn cowering beneath a wolf, your canines bearing with every word you spoke, "please, please, please."

sliding one hand up her chest, you rest it on her pulsing ribcage, just beneath her tits, your other travelling lower, easing between her thighs, feeling her heart race the closer you inched up her thigh, closing in towards her cunt.

her pupils have almost swallowed her entire amber iris, full and dark with an insatiable need, thick eyelashes fluttering when the tip of your finger ghosts over the crease of her thigh, only a breath away from her pussy. she jumps, the muscles in her thigh twitching beneath your fingers.

"i-i can't," it's the murmur of a church mouse, of tiny, wild prey, trapped beneath a murderous predator. her voice soft, like your pillows, like your hands.

"can't kiss me?" your voice is light, teasing, drawing another blissed sigh from her when you kiss the column of her throat with a grin, "or don't want to kiss me?"

god, if you knew how much she wants you. if you knew how all-consuming her appetite was. himiko sinks her claws into you, sharp plum nails digging into the meat of your upper arm, tugging you closer, closer, closer, your hips pressed to hers so hard she jerks again, hungrily searching for you. you let her, allow her to pull you where she wants you, to tug you above her, to bruise you. to mark you. have you as her own.

she waits for your yelp, your cry, 'himiko, stop, too much. too hard. too rough.'

she aches for more as she stares up at you, for your touch, your tongue, your lips, your teeth, your fingers. she can't let go of you, sinking her claws deeper into your skin, even as a bruise begins to bloom beneath painted fingertips. she feels her heart might explode beneath your hand, that your fingers will be stained with her desperation for more, her ache to make you hers.

you don't wince. you don't pull away. you don't pout. you don't tell her she's too much. you don't say anything. you only grin, biting your bottom lip before you finally dip your head to meet her lips.

your kiss is nothing like miu's, apprehension replaced with a hunger, a desperation no one's ever felt for himiko before, your tongue searching for hers, not avoiding her kiss. sighing into your lips, her spine arches into you, chest pressing to yours, rib cage to rib cage, your heart pressing to her heart. there's not an atom keeping you apart.

her hand travels down your arm, over your waist, resting on your hip where she pulls you closer again, her hips jumping to meet yours, desperate for any stimulation, for your body heat.

she thinks she hears you mumble again, a breathless plea from your mouth into hers, your sigh breathing life directly into her lungs.

pressing your hips into hers, you take advantage of her soft moan, sliding your tongue into her mouth, tasting her lips, her teeth, sucking her tongue into your own mouth. himiko all but whimpers against you, the sound high, needy.

she is needy, needs your touch, needs you to need her.

too much. too much. too much. too much.

like a mantra, she reminds herself, glass heart fracturing at the idea of your kiss laced with trepidation, of your mind racing with excuses to leave her, of you sniffling when soft skin tears beneath her razor-sharp touch.

a needle-sharp incisor catches on the plump of your bottom lip, blood already pooling to the surface, spilling into her mouth. glimmering golden eyes roll back, you taste so good, breath taking, so fucking addictive. she wants to savour your taste before you pull away, before you tell her she's too much for you, before you storm out and leave her barren of your heat, of your adoration.

"fuck, himiko," you sound… different than miu did. she spoke sharply, angry. you were… hungry, needy, desperate.

your hand slips out from beneath her dress, flying to her jaw to slam your lips into hers again, spreading blood and saliva over your lips and chin as you sloppily kissed her, your metallic tongue tracing over hers. himiko's hands follow, one forming a bruise on your ass, the other tangling at the back of your neck. she can't get close enough to you. tugging you closer, closer, closer, kissing you deeper, deeper, deeper.

her moans sound angelic, even more so when her head falls back, unabashedly loud in her pleasure when you suck on her throat, bringing blood to the surface with your tongue until you sink your teeth into her neck, at the join of her shoulder, her chest, leaving deep, purpling indents in your wake, a memory of you cemented in her epidermis for the days to come.

crimson runs down the centre of your chest, a deep vermillion trail travelling down between your tits, her tongue relentlessly chasing the taste until her face is pressed to your sternum, licking and sucking hungrily at your skin, neither of you caring about the mess of blood and saliva between you. not when her tongue was swirling between your tits, when your fingers are twitching against her plush cunt.

"himiko, himiko, himi-ko," her cat-like eyes are fogged over with lust, staring up at you, no thought in her mind other than the taste of your skin, of your blood, of your lips, teeth, tongue, of you.

blood rushes in her ears, pumping through her arteries and gathering at the base of her throat, spilling from the shallow wound on her chest, smearing between your bodies. himiko's dizzy, her head swimming when you lick at her tongue again, the taste of coppery blood spreading between your mouths; she doesn't know what's yours anymore, your saliva and blood mixing with hers between your mouths, you both becoming one.

her hand settles at your jaw, pulling your gory lips back to hers hungrily, eagerly parting your lips with her tongue, licking at the wound in your lip, your blood-stained teeth. dark red spreads between you both, from your veins to her tongue, from her tongue to your mouth, from your mouth back to hers, a terribly erotic mix of blood and saliva that had her heart racing like it wanted to jump from her rib cage into your hold, for you to hold and kiss like it was her.

"fuck, himiko," you pant, breaking the kiss to press your forehead to hers, planting kisses between every word,, between every breath, leaving pretty red marks along her jaw, "you're perfect."

she's perfect. perfect. perfect. perfect.

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[temmtamm]

I need you to write SOMETHING about yan Ford locking up (gn) reader slskxlflwld please I need him,,,,,,,, ogh

It wasn’t an easy feat to do this, y’know??

Really, he’d expect more appreciation on your part. Don’t you see all that he is putting on the line just for you? But, no. He supposes it is to hasty for a wild animal to suddenly get used to being loved and having a home.

And trust, that IS what you are. A wild, stray dog. One he intends on domesticating.

After all, it would do you no good to live on your own in a town like Gravity Falls. Too many creatures who would tear you limb from limb if given the chance.

Really, it’s much more preferable that he found you than the others.

…

Now, suuure, he may have found you through unconventional ways—But, hey!! Every Romcom starts with miscommunication!!

…His just happened to be him tracking you down after seeing you at the Mystery Shack, finding your home, your family, your first pets name.

It was all in the name of research, however!! Research is what he does best!! He can pick apart and dissect any topic of interest with enough time.

You just so happened to be his latest topic of interest.

—

“You have to eat, y’know?” Ford knelt down next to your curled in form laying weak on the ground, malnourished, sick, with sweat clinging to your skin and hair that hasn’t been washed in days. No matter, he’s seen worse. He’s lived through worse. They don’t exactly have showers in every single dimension, so a couple months is nothing compared to his nearly 30 years without a shower.

You didn’t respond. That has been your new gimmick lately, he noticed. You’re newest stage of grief.

You’ve already went through anger, bargaining, denial—Now, he just had to deal with your depression before he could get to the sweet ivory bliss that was acceptance.

He’d be waiting with bated breath for when you accepted him and how good this truly was for you, when you’d lean into his touch rather than jerk away.

Maybe then you can finally see more of the house than the basement—So long as you don’t snitch to the others why you’re here.

First things first, however, he needed to make sure you were healthy.

“I said eat.” He huffed, thick bushy brows knitting together as his tone grew more stern. That’s how he usually got his way, he noticed. He had to intimidate you. That’s what he had to do to stop you from stabbing him with his pens, to stop you from using any broken shards of glass to cut yourself, and to stop your from telling him how much you hated him.

Strangely enough, however, it didn’t work this time. If he had to guess, this was your new way of getting back at him, of not giving him the satisfaction of taking care of you. You’d sooner die from starvation than eat anything he cooked.

Too bad he wasn’t letting you. “They always want it the hard way..” Ford sighed, shaking his head before one of his hands jutted out, grabbing at your jaw, already so sore and bruised from the other times when he was…less than kind when handling you. It’d stop if you stopped biting, y’know.

“Glk—“ A choked gag left your lips, your nose wrinkling as your eyes grew misty from the pain. You tried to stay strong, to fight against him, though, inevitably, your mouth parted to let out a cry of pain. “Stop—“

You barely had time before a metal spoon was forced down your gullet, burning hot chili following it. You weren’t allowed solids yet.

Your eyes watered further, feeling it burn at your tender flesh and gums, making you swish it around, desperate to alleviate some of the pain before giving up, swallowing to make the pain, and food go away.

You hated that defeat tasted so good, especially with how you had been neglecting yourself lately.

“There we go,” You hated how Ford cooed even more. “That’s much better, isn’t it?”

A pathetic groan left your lips, with your head ducking back in to hide in your curled up form as he reached out, a rough, calloused six-fingers palm petting and playing with your hair as you laid like a old, tired dog.

…The feeling was soft and sweet, contrasting how tired and sore your bones were.

“There we go…Good dog.”

[cherubfae]

𝔞 𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 || {𝔧𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔡}

tags: nsfw, smut, fem!reader, strangers to lovers, injuries, slight age gap (reader is late 20s, james in late 30s}, told in third pov/jame's pov, slight derogatory terms, slight dubcon (just in case)

Calloused hands, rough from years of manual work, scrape across her lovely skin eliciting the sweetest sigh James thinks he's ever heard.

"That thing sure knocked you around good. Does it hurt?" Subtly his fingertips brush against the cut lingering on her soft jaw, thumb smoothing over the bruise that swelled on her chin from when she had been knocked down by Pyramid Head. Her little wince pulls at his heartstrings and immediately he drops his hands, watery blue eyes searching hers.

"My abdomen hurts more." She let out a soft chuckle, her lashes fluttering as she leans back on the old motel bed, stained with years of age and disuse, her head rests against the rotting headboard. Her hand instinctively rubs at the bandages around her tummy as she recalls its existence, though it was hard to forget once an otherworldly demon looking butcher strikes you cleanly with the point of his Great Knife. Thankfully, she had pulled off and with the bleeding staunched, she was resigned to believe there wasn't any internal damage.

James looks sorrowful. "I'm... I'm sorry. I'm glad I found you when I did." There was truth in his words as he gently takes her bandaged hand in his own, fingers idly brushing against her palm. Where glass had embedded into her palm. He had been meticulous in cleaning her wounds, ensuring that he would stave off any infection as best as he could.

He had only learned of her name mere days before. Honestly, he wasn't sure how long they've been locked into Silent Hill together. She had been called to this place too, for what, James didn't know and felt impolite to ask. Her judgement was her own as was his. Humans were capable of cruel things as much as they were beautiful, but he couldn't imagine what sort of sin this lovely woman needed to atone for. It's cliche but she truly wasn't like other women he'd known.

Truly, he didn't know of anyone else who would look at a demon seconds after being stabbed and smirk in the very face of life-threatening danger. How her primal scream sounded as she drove a pointed spike underneath Pyramid Head's helmet and into the weird fleshy mutation and twisted. Blackened blood, thick like oil, spewed from the visceral wound like a faucet and the creature's pained roar mixed with her scream.

The memory sent a thrilling tremor through James. There was something so deliciously enticing and feral about her.

James couldn't recall the last time he'd felt so good. Sure, he fisted his cock like his life depended on it on an almost daily basis, but having such a warm, tight pussy surrounding him made his head swim with pleasure.

"Y-you sure this is okay for your stomach?" James swallowed thickly; head dully thudded against the headboard behind him. His hands grip at her waist, thumbs swirling circles against her hipbones. His heart skittered as she smirked down at him, leaning down to kiss him. Greedily, he accepted, moaning at her taste. His tongue swiping out to chase hers as he thrusted upwards into her.

Rolling the two over, James's hand slid to rest above her ass, grabbing a handful of the soft globes as pressing her flush to him. Hiking a leg over his waist, he weakly remembered he should take it easy on her, she was injured after all. But it had been so long, and she felt so fuckin' good. So fuckin' warm. He couldn't stop now. Not when he finally grasped what he'd been craving for so long.

Even the slight ringing in his ears couldn't drown out the wet sounds of his cock pistoning in and out of her dripping core. How his name fell from her lips like a reverent prayer. He felt like a dog, deep in a rut, pounding into a willing bitch. A primal spark exploded in his gut, cock throbbing, his release nearby.

"J-James... I'm..." Oh, fuck, that's cute. She can't even finish her sentence.

Whimpering against his lips, she can barely keep her eyes open to look at him. She was beautiful, ethereal. Blinking rapidly, her hands have a tight hold on his biceps. He wouldn't be surprised if she'd left bruises. In fact, he hoped she did. Chuckling, he softly kissed her lips, faintly tasting the vanilla on them. A kind action compared to the ferociousness behind his thrusts. She came on his thick cock with a cry, her knees digging into his sides as he fucked her through it.

Praising, James nuzzled her softly. "That's it, sweetheart."

Give it to me. Now. James hid his face into her neck, peppering sweet kisses all over her sweaty skin. He parted her thighs further, pounding into her hard enough for the old bed to creak and groan, his swollen balls flexing as he came into her. Doubling his efforts, he didn't stop. Fingers tapping against her clit, he smirks against her neck as pleased squeaks fell from her glossy lips. He loved her supple body jolted against him, how responsive her body was to his touch, and especially how the lingering tremors of her orgasm sparked life back into his softening cock. He simply wasn't going to stop after one orgasm. No, he needed more, and he was going to get it, finally.

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