#they are so fucked up it's kind of worrying

[forscientificreasonsx3]

Omg this is too funny, I have to overshare for a second, because it's hilarious to me. Back then when I started studying I got a panic attack at University which was kind of related to this one time when I took acid. So I went home after class, completely fucked up, delusional, nothing felt real and I still thought I couldn't breathe and that I was about to die. So not only didn't my parents notice anything about that. But I developed a generalized anxiety disorder because of that traumatic event AND got a psychotic episode when I was living with my boyfriend back then AND NO ONE KNOWS ANYTHING ABOUT THAT UNTIL TODAY they have no idea 😂 I was like "okay but what if the delivery man poisoned my Pizza?" And they were just like "lol what you're silly" like wtf my behaviour was so off, how did no one notice? 😂💀 today it's funny to me and I'm all good again, no worries ☺️

[l-starsz]

pls can you do billie giving backshots to r laying on the couch while they’re having a movie night at their friends house? or something like this THANKS 🫶

a/n: i hope this is okay ml🫶

i laid on the sofa cuddled up against billies chest. we were at a friends house having a movie night, a few other people joined, making five of us there including me and billie. we were just over halfway through a movie, my girlfriends hands running through my hair.

i was half asleep until i felt one of her hands trail under the blanket, moving down until it reached my thigh. then my clit. she rubbed tight circles against it, causing me to hide my face in her hoodie. she continued for a little bit, and then stopped and moved her hand. she did this a few times throughout the movie, teasing me whilst i struggled to stay quiet.

once the movie ended, one of our friends spoke.

“hey we’re gonna go make some food, we might be a while, do you wanna come with or do you wanna stay here and watch something else while we’re gone?”

billie looked down at me as i looked at her.

“uhh, we’re gonna stay here, we’re kind of tired.”

they nodded and went to the kitchen, just leaving billie and i alone in the living room. the quiet end credits played from the last movie in the background as we held eye contact for a little bit. my cheeks flushed pink as she leaned closer, smirking at me. i placed my hand against her stomach, then pulled her face impossibly closer.

she immediately pressed her lips against mine. her tongue slipped into my mouth, fighting against mine before gaining dominance. slight whines left my mouth as her hands roamed down to my hips, holding me in place. before i knew it, she was pulling her joggers off, and i noticed her dick pressing hard against her boxers.

well if i wasn’t wet before then i certainly was now. i was quickly being turned around, my joggers also pulled off, face buried against the sofa cushions and my back arching. my knees were planted against the sofa whilst the rest of my lower half was raised in the air. i dripping all over myself when i felt billie push inside of me.

her hands grasped my hips tight, the pressure sure to leave marks there. she thrust into me at a quick pace, which made me moan out loud.

“fuck angel. you need to be quiet for me love. can’t have them walking in on us can we?”

i shook my head and whimpered as her hand pressed over my mouth.

“that’s it pretty baby. you can do it. stay quiet for me alright? doing so good for me.”

i whimpered and held on tight to the cushions beneath me. she sped up as slight tears fell from my eyes, soaking into the sofa. i felt one of her hands carefully run up my back, burying itself into my hair and playing with it whilst i struggled to stay quiet.

i tightened around her. i was getting close. closer. tighter. needier. my whimpers started to grow louder once again when i heard billie whisper to me.

“are you close baby? i can feel it. cum for me, you’re doing so good.”

one last moan came out of me as i came over her dick, causing her to cum too. she fucked me through my orgasm, and hers too. i completely collapsed onto the sofa, my body limp as she carefully pulled out of me, running her nails lightly across my back to comfort me. we stayed like this for a minute or so until i felt billie reach over me to grab some tissues off the small table by the sofa. she cleaned us both up as best she could, helping me with my clothes. she obviously put her own clothes back on too.

she quickly put a new movie on the tv, then i noticed her pull her hoodie off as i slouched in the corner of the sofa, exhausted. i felt billies hand gently rest against my arm, making me shiver. she looked a little worried, handing me her hoodie to put on since i didn’t have one with me and i was freezing. since i’d thanked her and out the hoodie on, we curled up under blankets together and my sleepy eyes fell shut almost immediately.

billie pov:

soon enough, my girl was asleep in my arms, her head on my chest and hands lightly resting against my stomach. we seemed to finish in perfect timing as i noticed our friends voices approaching the living room. they walked in and immediately looked over to us. then noticed my baby fast asleep against me.

“wow, you guys were tired huh? did you sleep too billie?”

i shook my head and said that i couldn’t sleep. i wasn’t lying. i couldn’t sleep, too busy making my girlfriend feel good. and helping her sleep.

[maikelfist]

Working Title: Man With Big Dick Fucks His Precious Boy

Okay so I had the weirdest, most random ass idea for post-breakup BuckTommy and it just got more and more random the more I kept going. It's all over the place, I kind of rushed near the end, I have no idea where I was going with this. I would call this a fever dream more than I would call it a fic but it's here now so might as well throw it at you guys PS: Don't get fooled by the working title, this is more sappy than sexy Edit: There's on updated, more refined version of this on ao3 now

Buck's sex life went from mind-blowing, life-changing and so-so-active to absolutely nothing in what felt like seconds, and unfortunately, his libido hasn't gotten the memo yet. He'd been advised to throw himself out there again multiple times now, but every single cell in his body recoils at the idea. I'm not your last, I'm your first. Yeah well, we'll see about that.

It feels like a no-brainer to start watching gay porn since that's what he's currently missing the most. He jerks off to a handsome guy—the hint of cleft in his chin may or may not have been the reason Buck clicked on the video—fucking into a pretty twunk, and honestly, Buck is having a good time. It’s only when tears begin to swell in his eyes after he comes with Tommy’s name on his lips that he realizes he should not do that again.

The next videos he watches pointedly feature plump bears and dainty twinks, but even then, Buck can't help but make comparisons. Can't hold a rhythm, not attentive enough, where are the reassurances?

Buck comes to a visceral, gut-wrenching realization: Every single guy he considers will have to measure up to one Thomas fucking Kinard from now on.

So.

No gay porn for Buck anymore.

He moves to het videos, and the second realization of his latest porn binge hits him a lot quicker. There is absolutely no way he will ever be able to go back to regular straight sex again. Buck is very, very bi, and even relationships with women will have to be queer from now on.

Of course, porn isn't reality, but being confronted with the exaggerated heteronormativity of it all—the idea of fulfilling a society-given role after Buck learned what things can feel like when he's allowed to be himself—makes his stomach churn.

Living in a post-Tommy world is not an easy feat.

In between baking like he's preparing for an apocalypse, Buck keeps going down a rabbit hole of trying to find porn that would help him take his mind off Tommy.

Luckily, after browsing the most obscure, likely virus-infested websites the internet has to offer, Buck finds a video that instantly becomes a staple in his tabs—a comforting presence whenever he feels lonely, which these days is all the time. He doesn't even bother closing it.

As long as it took him to find the video, it’s quickly forgotten when Tommy and Buck make up.

The reunion is messy and like a balm for Buck's wounds. It is filled with tears and Tommy's ability to make difficult conversations feel easy—something Buck had desperately missed when Tommy chose to walk out of his life. It’s a skill Tommy can apparently lose when he’s petrified with fear. Buck vows to chip away at all of Tommy's worries now that Buck is aware of them. Now that Tommy lets him.

It's strange and not surprising at all how much like coming home it feels to have Tommy back. How easy it is for Buck to cook for them in his kitchen while Tommy looks for something they can watch later on Buck's laptop.

"I found this documentary about hyper-regional food," Tommy says.

Buck perks up from the herbs he's cutting. "Like Threads of God? Do you know that only three women in Sardinia know how to make that type of pasta?"

Tommy hums at that. "Sounds like we don't need to watch it."

Buck laughs and lowers his eyes to the herbs again. "No, I want to. But isn't there a new part of that car restoration series you like?"

"We can watch that later." Tommy emphasizes the last word in a way that makes another part of Buck perk up.

Early in their relationship, they found out that there are few things that can make Buck relax and fall asleep quicker than the sight of competent hands making old things look new to the rhythmic sound of metal being hammered and ground. This means Tommy has to make sure it's him that gets to tire Buck out before the video has a chance to. Thankfully, Tommy seems to be fine with Buck never reaching the end of any of the restoration videos he likes.

Tommy makes an intrigued noise of interest that breaks Buck out of his musings. "Ooor we can watch this."

Buck listens to the sounds of shuffling and smacking, confusion furrowing his brows before recognition seizes him by the throat.

"Oh my God!" The parsley Buck is holding ends up somewhere in Nirvana as he hurriedly frees his hands to grab his laptop. "OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod—" Since when is closing a laptop so fucking difficult?

Tommy lets him fumble for a moment, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. It’s infuriating how he waits until Buck, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked, finally meets his gaze before speaking slowly and deliberately, savoring each syllable.

"Woman With Dragon Dick Fucks Her Precious Girl."

Buck is glad he wasn't cutting chili because there's no way he can stop himself from pressing his fingers into his eyes as he whines, "You don't have to say it out loud!"

"I simply appreciate the originality of the title."

God, why was Buck a firefighter when he couldn't even do anything about his face being on fucking fire?

"Look, I missed you, and I couldn't watch gay porn because they either reminded me too much of you or they weren't you, and regular straight porn was tedious, so I found this feminist porn site, and I didn't feel bad about supporting them, and please, please don't judge—"

"Evan." Tommy says his name in a way that allows no ifs and buts. "I'm not judging." Buck has learned to hold his breath when Tommy speaks to him in that no-nonsense sternness. It's a Pavlovian reaction that sends shivers down his spine. Tommy raises his thumb to the birthmark on Buck's temple, gently brushing it as his voice softens. "I'm taking note." Buck exhales shakily and leans into the touch.

Tommy reaches for the laptop, opens it, and enters the password that Buck shared with him even before they broke up. He moves to stand behind Buck, arms wrapped around him, as he hits play again.

The titular precious girl is on all fours, purring kittenish noises into the mattress as the woman kisses her neck and shoulders, murmuring sweet nothings into her skin. She's fucking her strap-on in between her thighs, making sure the dildo rubs against all the right spots.

"The shape is interesting," Tommy observes. He glances at Evan, unsure of what kind of reaction his comment will provoke. Maybe some more bashfulness, maybe a sweet sigh similar to the ones the girl is making on screen while the dildo enters her.

Instead, Evan turns to him with an excited smile on his full lips. "Yeah, right? I found this website. Wait, hold on—" Evan pauses the video, opens a new tab, and Tommy is hit with the sight of colorful, artfully crafted fantasy dildos. Handmade, apparently.

Evan starts rambling about which ones he finds the most appealing, what media they're inspired by. Tommy has never heard him talk this much about pop culture, and no one is ever allowed to know that Evan learned about Avatar this way. Chimney would get an aneurysm.

Having Evan in his life means being in a constant state of whiplash, and Tommy has learned that he wouldn't have it any other way.

Tommy keeps in mind which ones Evan pointed out and makes a mental note to take a look at the cock sleeves the store has to offer before gently nudging Evan back to the porn.

"What else do you like about the video?" Evan relaxes back into him as they keep watching. Tommy can guess what Evan might find hot about it, but he would like to hear it from Evan before making assumptions. He also just wants to hear Evan, period.

"I like— I like that she's sweet to her? Most of the time, women in straight femdom porn are just mean, like men being dominated by women is automatically degrading. I don't like that."

Tommy hums in acknowledgment, enjoys the small gasp he receives as he dips his fingers into a gap in Evan's button-down shirt, playing with the trail of hair on Evan's stomach. That Evan likes sweet talk isn't new information, but hearing it is always nice. "Keep going," Tommy encourages.

"But she's also kind of… possessive about it? She calls her 'my treasure' a couple of times. I love it when she does. It's like—it's—she—she's—"

"Cherishing her?"

Evan sighs and nods, rubbing his temple against Tommy's.

Tommy leans in, noses at the pulse point of Evan's neck as he goes in for the kill. "Claiming her?"

Evan's moan sounds like it was punched out of him, and Tommy barely has enough time to hold onto the laptop to keep it from being dragged down as Evan turns to kiss him.

Tommy braces himself, gathering more and more courage with each kiss before he makes claims he prays to whatever God might be listening aren’t wrong. "You want me to hold on to you? Make you mine and never let go?"

A heart-wrenching sob escapes Evan's mouth, and Tommy swallows it greedily. "God yes, please!"

Evan keeps pressing pleas against his lips, and Tommy desperately wants to give in, but there is just one small thing that needs to be done first.

"Evan, the thing you're making, can—can that wait?" The last time they allowed themselves to get distracted while cooking, Evan kept pouting afterwards over the food being 'ruined'. In an attempt to cheer him up, Tommy had said that he couldn't tell the difference which had just made things worse. He wouldn't make that mistake again. There are many mistakes he wouldn't make again.

Evan utters a dazed noise before clarity settles into his features. "Oh. Yeah. It'll just marinate."

Tommy nods and moves to turn off the stove, Evan clinging to his side. He returns his attention to Evan, fingers playing with his curls.

The stove was a short distraction, but long enough to ensure that Tommy's next words are spoken with all the gravitas they deserve. "My treasure."

Another broken sound escapes Evan's throat as he burrows into Tommy and continues what they started.

Tommy hates breaking things, but, God, does he love repairing them. He knows he has a lot to make up for, and he will do it happily. If that means wiping away his boyfriend's tears and indulging in his trauma-induced dragon kink, so be it.

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Play with fire Pt 2- LN4 X Fem reader

Pairing: Lando x Y/n Fewtrell

Warnings: physical Fight

Notes: Here's the second part, it gets messy but I'm almost done with part 3, so it won't be long for it to get better. As always, feedback is really appreciated, and receiving requests.

Thanks for the love.

Part 1

_______

It was the sixth month anniversary with Lando and you had planned to spend one whole week together in Mónaco. As part of the plan, he leased a villa and invited Max, Pietra, and a couple friends to Nice for the last days of the summer break. A few days later he lied and told them he was needed back at the MTC a week early but convinced them to stay back for the remaining days, and you lied to your parents saying you were spending that week with Leah, your bff.

It was day 3 of eating junk food, watching trash TV, and having sex 24/7. You had never been more in love with the man sleeping beside you. Your head on his chest, his soft snoring so relaxing you had no idea how you would be able to fall asleep without him every night.

"Hey mate, are you here?" Your brother's voice made your heart stop. Were you dreaming? "Bob!" Yup, it was your brother.

"Lan, baby" you moved him softly enough not to scare him.

"Yaaaawww" He yawned loudly "Hi bab-"You covered his mouth. His eyes stared at you confused.

"Max is here" You whispered.

"What?"

"Lando, are you here mate? Your car is in the garage" You could see his soul leave his body.

"What is he doing here?" you asked

"No idea!"

You heard a suitcase rolling down the hallway.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" You started panicking.

"Shh, everything is going to be ok. Stay here" he kissed your lips and stood up, putting on his boxers and joggers. "Be right back" he whispered, and walked out, closing the door behind him. You stood up, put on your pajamas, and rushed to press your ear to the door.

"Hey Mate"

"Oh hey, I thought you were at the MTC"

"Oh, yeah, we finished early"

"It's Wednesday, I thought you were staying there the whole week"

"Yeah, nah, came back this morning"

"That must be a record"

"Yeah, great results"

"Sounds like it"

"What are you doing here?" Lando was trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but damn was he a bad actor.

"Oh, I messaged you yesterday, P, wasn't feeling well so we decided to return early. You didn't get it?"

"I...I don't even know where I left my phone"

"Oook" Your brother stared at Lando trying to figure out why he was behaving weirdly.

"So, I'm hungry. Do you want to go eat something? Do you want to go get some pizza?" Lando tried to get Max away from the house so you had enough time to figure out a plan. As much as he had been waiting and begging for you to come clean, this was not how he would like to do it.

"Nah, thanks. Actually, P is downstairs sleeping in the car. Plus, I'm not sure if I'm tired from the drive or if I've caught whatever she has; I feel weird, so I'm just taking a quick shower, and I'll spend the night over at her hotel in case she needs something."

"Oh, ok, yeah, that sounds good" You and Lando could finally breathe.

"Are you ok mate? You look flustered"

"Yeah, nah, I'm just tired, it's been quite a week"

"Yeah, I imagine. I'm going to take a quick shower and will be out of here so you can rest"

"Ok, fine, yes"

Your brother went to the guest room, Lando waited until Max's door was closed to go inside his.

"Fuck, that was scary" You whispered still worried Max could hear you from across the hall. "And you're such a terrible actor"

"Hey, I'm not that bad"

"Yeah, you are" You hugged him, placing your head against his chest as his hands caressed your hair. The sound of the shower calming your rushing hearts.

"I have to admit tho" He pushed you away lightly so you were facing him. "This was kind of hot"

"What?"

"Yeah, like this rush, it makes me almost not want to tell him and see how much we can keep sneaking around"

"You're sick" You stared at him, a half smile on your face.

"This is what you've done to me, you've made me a sick, obsessed, unsatiable man" He made a fist with your hair and pulled you to join your lips in a wild kiss.

"Mate, do you have-" Your brother knocked on Lando's door but opened it immediately, a beautiful habit he's had since childhood.

You all stared at each other in shock.

It was a scene straight out of a comedy or a horror movie, depending on who you asked.

You could see your bother's mouth trying to voice his thoughts, but there were too many. The moment you saw his jaw clench you knew you had to speak before Lando did. You loved the man but even with all the PR training, he was the worst at this kind of situation.

"Max, listen" You started in a low voice, taking a step toward him without letting go of Lando's hand. Your bother just raised his hand, one finger up signaling you to wait. "Max, everything's fine, ok?"

"No" He said, his voice so low it was almost scary

"Yes" You tried to remain calm, and so did Lando but the thigh grip he had on your hand told you he was as nervous as you.

"You're fucking my little sister?" He finally voiced the loudest thought in his head, his eyes piercing holes into Lando's.

Not that you were sensitive to the word fuck, but this time it made your skin crawl, being used by your brother to describe what you and Lando had felt just wrong.

"Mate, wait" Lando mimicked your calm voice.

"I'm not your mate!" Your brother raised his voice and you squeezed Lando's hand as a silent request to remain calm. "Mates-don't-fuck- their-mates-sisters" You could see his arms tense, his fingers white from the tight fists.

"We're not fucking" He answered.

"Oh no? Then what's happening here?" He walked in the room pacing around in a frenetic way.

"Both your clothes everywhere, the bed a fucking mess, the condom box on the nightstand? Tell me Lando, what is it that I'm seeing?"

"Max, listen" Max's eyes fixed on your intertwined fingers.

"You shut up, wait until Mom and Dad know about this"

"Don't talk to her like that" Lando tried to defend you but you placed your hand on his chest trying to hold him back.

"I'm not a child anymore Max, I'm a grown-up"

"Oh please, you're a freaking child, and fucking Lando proves it"

"Whether you like it or not, I'm an adult now, and I get to choose who I date, no matter what you or our parents have to say about it"

"Date? You're dating him?"

"Yes" You answered confidently.

"Listen, mate, I love her, ok?" His voice in a calm yet confident tone that made your heart rush with love.

"I'm going to kill you"

"Max" You could read in his body language he was about to lose it.

"I'm going to kill you, Lando"

"Max, wait, please" You tried to place yourself between them but before you knew it your brother was pushing Lando against one of the walls, his forearm pressing his neck as he pushed him hard, Lando tried to push Max away without hurting him.

"Max, wait, what the fuck?" You tried to get close to them.

"Y/n, no, stand back" Lando yelled at you when he saw you were getting closer.

"You're a fucking morron" Your brother kept pushing Lando against the wall.

You rushed to the nightstand and took your phone from the charger ringing Pietra.

"Hello?" The calm sleepy voice on the other side of the line was the complete opposite of the scene right in front of you. You felt bad for bringing her into this, but you needed help to get your bother to calm down, and she was your best option.

"P, you need to get up here, please"

"Y/n? Where are you?"

"Lando's apartment, please, get up here now!" You hung up hoping she was on her way.

"Mate, listen to me, I swear to God, this is not what you think" Lando tried to use his calmest voice possible, trying just to cover himself from the fists being thrown around by your brother.

"Max, stop it! You're behaving like an animal, stop!" You tried to get your brother off your boyfriend but he kept pushing you back.

You heard the door panel beep and then the door opened.

"Over here!" you yelled trying to lead her to the master bedroom, not that the sound of stuff being thrown around wasn't going to lead her there anyway,

"What's happening?" She stared in shock at the scene in front of her "Max, stop it" She tried to approach the fighting men but they pushed her back too.

"Maximilian, you have to calm down, now!" P's voice actually worked, getting your brother to stand back.

"P, this is between Lando and me"

"No, it's not!" You yelled back at him.

"You shut up! Grab your things, you're coming with me right away"

"No"

"Y/n, I'm not playing!"

"Neither am I, I'm not leaving with you, Max"

"Aaaahhh" Your brother screamed and squatted down covering his head with his hands. Pietra was about to walk over to him but you stopped her, asking her to let you go first.

"Max" You said softly walking over to him. Slowly you placed your hand over his shoulder "Max, please you have to listen to us, please"

"Screw you two" He stood up, took P's hand, and walked out of the apartment slamming the front door.

You sighted in defeat, at least he wasn't punching Lando anymore, but it was so painful to see your brother so hurt.

"Baby" You walked over to Lando who was walking back to the bed, holding his ribcage "Are you ok?"

"Yes, I've had worst on track"

"Let me see" You held his face inspecting it, he had a couple of red bruises here and there, but most of the damage had been done to his chest and shoulders. You started shaking.

"Baby" You hugged him, falling to your knees in front of him, tears finally flooding your eyes.

"Shhh it's ok, it will all be ok" He hugged you tightly against his chest, he could feel slight pain but soothing you was more important.

He pulled you up and placed you on the bed, holding your thigh against him.

"It will be ok" he said softly against your hair.

"I know" You answered back between sobs.

"Well, the cat's out of the bag" Lando tried to joke the tension away.

"You think we should've told him sooner?"

"He might have reacted the same, so I'm afraid any time would've led to the same result"

You remained on the bed, with many questions in your heads. Now that Max knew you had to tell your parents, he would probably do everything he could to have them on his side. What was going to happen to Quadrant? Not that Lando didn't trust he could convince Max this wasn't a bad thing, but fear lingered there.

You stood from the bed and started picking up the mess the fight had left.

"Baby come here-"

"Lan, this helps me, let me just... if I can't fix the situation I can at least fix this"

He stood up and helped you clean.

After what felt like an hour or two your phone dinged.

Pi 🌸 Max is calm now, he has agreed to go back up and talk with you guys, we'll be up in a second, but please no PDA for now!

"Lan, they're coming back up, let's go sit in the living room"

"So he can break more stuff?" You stared at Lando "Sorry, no more jokes"

"And no hand holding or kissing, or hugging"

"Are you serious?"

"Just until we get him to listen to everything we have to say"

"Fine"

You waited for your brother in the living room, sitting on opposite sides of the sofa.

You heard the lock panel and your heart rushed. Your brother opened the door letting Pietra in first, she walked all the way next to the sofa but your brother remained at the door.

"Ok, I'm here, talk" His voice was a version you had never heard before.

"Max, we're sorry we didn't come forward about this sooner, I'm sorry, I just, I had no idea how to tell you" You spoke first.

A sarcastic snort left his body as he crossed his arms.

"Love" Pietra stared at him.

"Fine, continue" He rolled his eyes.

If only your brother knew he was responsible for this happening.

______________________________

Part 1

If I missed someone on the tag list let me know, also let me know if you'd like to be added.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch, @f1fantasys, @formulaal

[inkdrinkerworld]

same bday anon- i have a yelling req !!!

remus yelling at reader pre or post full moon and the other marauders don't say anything bc they're shocked, but reader thinks it's bc they agree? and then after a while they all make up and just cuddle<3 ofc if u don't wanna it's all good !!! ilysm baby !

I did it more along the lines of Remus having chronic pain than a werewolf thing :/ I hope that’s okay

You’re kneeling before Remus’ slouched body on the sofa, hand in his hair as you try to coax him to move.

“Remus, c’mon. You can’t lay like that, your bones will ache.”

You’re trying to get your ailing boyfriend to find a much more comfortable spot, his body sore and tired and the chill moving through the air wasn’t helping so much.

Sirius and James are in the kitchen- a bad idea but you’d wanted to try to coax Remus into some stretches and maybe a massage before they finished the potato and leek soup for supper.

“I can lay like this all I want, dove. It feels good.” There’s a snark in his tone, but you don’t let it get under your skin. You know how much pain he’s in when he has a flare up like this, so you brush his tone aside.

You run your hand down his cheeks, “Please Rem. I don’t want your knees to lock or your back to twinge.”

You’re as gentle as you can be, patient and understanding but you can see in your mind’s eye that way Remus wobbled and fell to the floor the last time his knees had locked.

“I’m a grown man damnit!” You flinch back from him as his tone shifts, your hand dropping from his face as you sit back on your heels on the floor. “If I want to fucking lay like this for the rest of the night I can.”

Remus’ outburst has gathered the attention of your other boyfriends, and you want terribly to respond to his words, but you can’t.

He sounds so upset and he’s so loud and you feel your chest constrict as you stare at him.

“I don’t need you hovering for gods sake! Go be a nuisance somewhere else.”

Remus speaks with such venom and he looks at you with just heat and anger in his eyes that it’s impossible not to believe this is how he really feed about you.

James and Sirius stay silent, shocked by Remus’ words just as you are- but their silence makes the shame burn hotter in your chest.

This is how they all feel about you.

“You don’t get to be mean just cause you’re hurting, Remus.” Is all you say as you stand, walking towards the front door when Sirius springs into action first.

“Poppet, where’re you headed?” He’s almost beaten you to the front door but your hand touches the handle first.

“I’m going for a walk. I want to stack stones by the river.” Sirius knows what it’s code for. You don’t want to say something mean back to Remus, you want to be kind even if he’s being an ass.

Sirius makes to grab your jumpers. “I’ll come with, you shouldn’t be alone.” You shake your head.

“You don’t have to pretend you care, Siri. It’s okay if you and Jamie agree with him. I just want to be alone.”

“Agree with him? Poppet we,” but you’re already out the door.

James glares at Remus who simply sinks into the sofa.

“You can be a real piece of work, Moony.” James says, hoisting his boyfriend out of the position he’d been in and stretching his legs long on the sofa instead of over its back.

Sirius moves to the living room again, “She was trying to help. Now she’s gone off to stack her stones when she should be tearing you a new one.”

Remus scrubs at his face, heat colouring his cheeks red. Sirius doesn’t let him off the hook. He can’t believe how callous Remus has been.

“Thinks me and James share your fuck off stupid sentiments when you don’t even believe what you said.”

James stops him from saying any more. “I’ll go look for her while you stay with him.”

Remus shakes his head, hissing as he stands; his knees shaky and weak. “I’ll go.” Sirius wants to stop him, but James knows if Remus doesn’t go do it now he’ll spend the entire time he’s home worrying himself sick and then won’t be able to face for days.

Sirius slaps his hands to his thighs, “Fuck off, we’ll all go. I’ll turn off the hob.”

They find you after you’ve already made four stacks of rocks, some with tiny rocks, some with huge slabs of stone.

Remus’ chest tightens as he spots you, your knees to your chest, toes wet from where you’re sat.

“Dove,” Remus starts to say as he stops right beside you. “I was an ass. I didn’t mean what I said.”

You just hum, looking at your stacks and trying to find more rocks for another pile.

“I hate when I can’t do the things I want because it’ll make me hurt and it was wrong of me to shout at you for just trying to look after me.”

You look at him when he crouched down, his knees cracking so loudly you’re worried he’ll topple over.

James steadies a hand on Remus’ back while Sirius procures a couple stones for you. His palm flat as he shows them to you, a little smile on his face when you take them.

“You said I was a nuisance.” Remus cringes as he heads the words back. He really can’t believe he’d been so mean to you.

“I didn’t mean it, dovey. The pain is no excuse.”

“Do you all think that?” You ask nervously, “You didn’t say anything when he said it.” You gnaw on your bottom lip, worrying it to all hell as you look between James and Sirius.

“You’re not a nuisance baby,” James says first, hurt that you’d even thought it was how they felt about you. “I know us not saying anything made things worse, but it was just shock; not how we feel.”

Sirius turns your face up to his, pinching your chin to keep your eyes on him. “You walked out before I could finish. None of us think you’re a nuisance, you’re the best damn thing that happened to us. Come home.”

Sirius is hard to have a stare off with, he doesn’t back down. But it isn’t that that does you in.

“Please dove. You can boss me around till the end of time, just come home and out of the cold.”

Remus sounds so chock full of remorse and when you look at him you find his eyes glassy. “Okay,” Sirius helps you stand, and you receive kisses from all three of them before you the river bed.

[p3achfilm]

darling. eren.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ nsfw! black!reader implied, 4k smut with a loose plot <3 blowjob, slapping, female oral, throat-fucking, fingering, creaming, squirting, pet names, p in v (duh), choking, licking whipped cream off each-other, overstimulation, cream-pie, dirty talk, explicit language. alsooo, i watched ‘don’t worry darling’ again, because yes. anyways, this story is kind of based off of it? i thought their relationship was so fucking cute. or in which eren just really loves his pretty little housewife ♡︎

HE REVELED IN the ambrosial scent of freshly baked pastries, a fragrant tapestry of buttery crusts and sweet fillings that evoked an ineffable sense of warmth. Each inhale was a journey through layers of vanilla, cinnamon, and caramelized sugar, intertwining to create a sensory experience so vivid it felt almost tangible. The delicate, golden crusts and rich, inviting fillings painted a picture of comfort and bliss, making the simple act of breathing in the aroma a moment of pure, unadulterated joy. He’d never been a sweets kind-of-man, well, that was until he’d met you. He remembered that rainy Saturday evening, a moment forever etched into his memory.

There you stood behind the counter, beautiful bright eyes sparkling with promise. Plump glossed lips upturned into a welcoming smile that could light up an entire room. A small smudge of wet dough adorned your cheek, adding a charming touch of imperfection to your radiant beauty. It was in that very moment, surrounded by the intoxicating scent of freshly baked pastries, that he knew he had found something special.

Eren found himself irresistibly drawn to your presence. The manner in which you glided through the bakery, your hands deftly molding the dough with an elegance that appeared almost enchanting, captivated him. Your laughter, light and melodious, resonated throughout the space, harmonizing beautifully with the inviting scent of freshly baked goods. As he observed you, he experienced an unexplainable attraction, a bond that transcended simple infatuation.

It felt as though your very spirit was interwoven with the essence of the bakery, transforming it into a haven of warmth and affection. Each visit became a cherished ritual, an opportunity to see you once more, to share a few words, and to revel in the radiance of your delightful smile. The day you became his wife marked the pinnacle of his happiness. You enjoyed playfully teasing him, dubbing him a stalker, while he would insist that you had infused your dough with something magical to ensnare his heart.

It was an ordinary Friday afternoon. Typically, he would be eager to escape his tedious desk job to discover what his pretty lady had prepared for him during his absence, but today was an exception. He could hardly believe what he was witnessing, his phone firmly grasped in his hand, partially concealed beneath the desk. He couldn’t say that this was unlike you; in fact it was very much like fucking you. With your captivating eyes fixed on the camera, soft waves cascading over your shoulders like a gentle tide, and your bottom lip playfully caught between your pristine teeth. The pink apron adorned with a strawberry pattern, a Christmas gift from him, was tied around your waist. Normally, you would complement it with something charming and frilly, but today, you wore nothing beneath it, the phone resting against what he presumed to be the kitchen island.

There you were, sprawled on the floor, legs apart, softly moaning as your manicured fingers explored your slickness. He found himself needing to cough as the audio began to play, yet he could not help but creep the volume once more. The sounds of your wet pussy sent his mind racing. He could tell you had been in this state for hours, the way your swollen clit pulsed as you tilted your head, your perfectly shaped eyebrows knitting together above your fluttering eyes. God, you were so nasty.

The worst part is you know exactly how to rile him up. You moan his name, all sweet and breathy, and his cock jerks. Fuck, you look good. The way your legs quiver and your chest heaves as you pump your fingers into your slick little cunt, your other hand sliding down to rub circles around your clit. He knows you, knows the way your body moves and the sounds you make when you touch yourself, and that just makes his mouth water. How dare you? How fucking dare you tease him like this while he was working. You had some fucking nerve. You were gonna get it when he got home, no doubt about that. It takes everything in him to ignore the video for the rest of the day, the sounds of your sweet voice playing over and over in his mind.

The image of you laid out on the kitchen floor, desperate and needy and dripping all over the tiles, is enough to make him want to slam his head into the wall.

When he enters the cozy cinnamon scented home, the smell of your cooking irritates him. He finds you in the kitchen, stirring a pot of spaghetti, and you turn to face him with that cutesy smile. Your hair is tied up and you’re wearing a cute little sundress, and the fact you’re acting like nothing is wrong when he’s radiating sexual frustration makes him grit his teeth. “Welcome home baby!” You beam, he watches the way you sway your hips as you saunter towards him, and he wants to rip your fucking dress off.

He’s stiff as you press a kiss on his cheek, “dinner’s almost done, do you want me to start setting the table?” you question innocently, oblivious to his inside turmoil. “Shut the fuck up.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond as he grabs your wrist and pulls you into him, the scent of his cologne infiltrating your senses. An arm snakes around your waist, a feeble gasp fumbling from your lips as he grabs a fistful of hair, cocking your head back. “You think you can send me a fucking video of yourself like that? Huh?” He shoves you back until your ass is pressed against the counter. “Ren. .” A small whine as he nudges a thigh between your legs. “Did you like it baby?” a teasing grin curls on your lips.

He slaps you across the face, and you stifle a moan as the sting settles in. “Fuck you. You know I don’t have time to be looking at shit like that when I’m trying to work.” his voice is dripping with venom. You giggle and look up at him through wispy lashes, he knows what you’re going to say. “M’ can’t help it. You’re so sexy.” He’s cracking his palm against your face again.

You’re practically panting as he grips your hair tighter and shoves a hand down the front of your dress. Your tits are small and fit perfectly in his large palm, you tremble as he tweaks one of your nipples. “Ren. .” you groan, burying your face into his blazer. “Daddy, I’ve been so wet since I sent that video,” you purr, and his dick throbs. “I couldn’t stop touching myself.” You mewl, Eren grabs your thighs and hoists you onto the counter effortlessly. The cold marble is a shock against the back of your bare thighs. “Stupid little slut.”

“M’sorry daddy,” you whisper, batting your eyelashes innocently. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re lucky you’re so fucking pretty.” he growls, veiny hand wrapping around your neck as he kisses you. A pathetic whimper sounds from you as you grip his shirt. You always loved when he kissed you like this, his tongue exploring your mouth as he bites at your bottom lip. “Let me make it up to you,” you plead, pulling away from him. “I want you, please.” he rolls his tongue against his cheek at your statement, blown out pupils staring you down. “You want my cock?” “Mhm,” you hum. "You really think I'm going to give you what you want after the stunt you pulled today?" He watches the way you squirm on the counter, hair still clutched in his ring clad fingers. He pushes the skirt of your dress up around your waist, exposing the soft, delicate skin of your tummy and the lace panties you're wearing.

He grabs the band of them and slides them down your legs skillfully. You’re practically dripping, fucking nymph. "Daddy, l've thought about you allllll day.” He runs his fingers along your slit, collecting your arousal. "I bet. You're soaked."

"Just for you," you whimper, and he groans. Manicured nails press into the skin of your palms as he spreads your glistening folds, the sound of them parting lewd, a testimony to how fucking horny you are for your husband. “Oh my gosh,” thick fingers press against your gummy walls and you cry out, head lulling back. You’re so compact and wet around his fingers and his dick aches as he pumps his fingers inside of you. “Such a good little whore, aren’t you?” you lazily nod, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer into you. Expertly he curls his digits and presses them against that spot that has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. “So fucking good, f-feels so good!” you’re sobbing as you buck your hips against his hand earning a guttural laugh from the man looming over you, “so needy.”

You struggle to articulate your foggy thoughts as he fucks you on the kitchen counter, scissoring your poor little cunt. “I think you’ve earned the right to cum on my dick, don’t you baby?” his voice is soft, spurring you on even more. “Y-yes, please!” you can’t stop the frown that overtakes your face as he pulls his fingers out, emerald eyes boring into your brown ones as he slides his tongue across his digits.

Your stomach clenches as you watch. You’re better than any treat he would ever taste. “Get on the floor.” his voice is demanding now, you pout. “What if the spaghetti burns?” he only responds by landing a thundering hit on your exposed thigh. “Do what the fuck I say.”

You slide off the counter with a puff and fall to your knees. The way your dress rides up your thighs, the way you look up at him with those wide eyes. You know exactly how to drive him crazy. Eager eyes watch as he undoes his belt, and your eyes light up as he pulls out his thick veiny cock. You lick your lips as he gives himself a few quick strokes, tip leaking with his precum. It's a masterpiece, really.

"Mmm," a groan spills from his lips as he smacks his cock against your face. You're so damn sexy. "Open." He commands, you obey and he slips his dick past your plush lips. A choked moan gurgles from you as he slides deeper into your throat, his jaw going slack. "Fuck, baby," he hisses. "You're so good to me."

He grabs hold of your head and thrusts into your warm mouth, moaning at the tightness of your throat. "That's right, swallow it. I know how much you love it," he coos, and your eyes flick up to his as he moves inside of you. He can feel his cock throb. Those wide eyes, that beautiful face, the way you whimper and mewl. You're so gorgeous. He pulls back and slips his cock from between your lips. You gasp and sputter, drool sliding down your chin. He loves it.

"You're so beautiful." He brushes his thumb against your lower lip. "I wanna suck your cock," you beg. "Please,” He grins and guides his cock back to your mouth, letting you suck him. Your tongue runs along the length and swirls around the tip, sucking up the precum that drips onto your tongue. "Good girl," he moans, his hips jerking as you swallow him. He pushes his cock further down your throat, and you gag around him. He moans and holds himself there, watching as your eyes well up with tears and spit trickles from your mouth.

You look perfect like this, and you know it. He pulls back and gasps for air, stroking his dick while you catch your breath. "So good to me." He cups your cheek, and you turn to kiss his palm. "So so so good to me," he babbles, hips jerking as you take him. He ushers his cock further down your throat, hitting the back of your throat, you heave around him. He whines and holds himself there, watching as tears finally spill from your glossy eyes. "You look so pretty when you choke on my dick." He pulls away and you gasp for air. He takes hold of his cock, smacking it against your tongue with a plap plap plap, before thrusting back into your throat.

"I can't wait to cum down your pretty little throat." You retch and choke around his thick cock, your hands clenching in your lap. "Oh god, fuck." He can feel his balls tighten, his body tense. He wants to shoot his load in your throat but refrains. No, he wants to cum all over your face. “Ugh,” his eyes roll back as suck greedily at his tip, one hand reaching up to fondle his balls gently.

"Fuck," his cock pulses in his hand, his release building. "Oh fuck," He pulls back, stroking his dick rapidly. "Look at me." You gaze up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. The heat between your thighs grows as he rubs his thick cock sore, you can’t help but slip a finger into your wet pussy. "That's right, touch yourself, baby." He groans as he watches you, the sight of your fingers buried deep in your soppy pussy is almost too much for him. "Fuck, I'm so close," his hips jerk, and he aims his cock at your face. He cries out, his hand a blur on his cock, his other hand gripping your hair. "Open wide," his voice is hoarse, and you moan, your own orgasm close. Your tongue hangs out as you watch him, his cock throbbing and pulsing as his load shoots from the tip.

The warm liquid lands on your tongue, splattering across your cheek and down your neck. He keeps cumming, coating your face with his sticky load. You’re so close but once again you’re robbed of an orgasm as Eren picks you up and places you down onto the counter, spreading your legs.

"What a gorgeous pussy," he says, eyes admiring your dripping cunt. You're so wet for him. Your head falls back against the kitchen cabinet as he sinks two fingers inside of you, “look at you all ready,” Eren coos. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, making your breath hitch. But as soon as it had started it was over. And yet again, you’re frowning as he leaves you empty. Eren laughs, “Don’t look so sad.” he mutters, unbuttoning his dress shirt. You’d been married to Eren for three years—almost four years, yet you still found yourself gawking.

The way his tattoos contrast so well with his warm olive skin, the way his muscles rippled with the finest of movements. Eren was a man that took pride in his appearance, and it showed. His shirt falls to the floor, revealing the intricate designs inked into his skin, each telling a story of its own. He steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours as he throws his pants and underwear to the side.

The anticipation builds, your body reacting to his every move. His hands are on you again, this time more deliberate, more possessive. His touch a mix of tenderness and raw desire. “Take this shit off,” he places sloppy wet kisses all over your neck, stopping for a moment to pull your dress over your head.

His touch is hot on your skin, like an electrical current. His mouth is on your neck once again, but he doesn't stop there. He kisses your chest, down your pudgy stomach until he's kneeling before you. His fingers spreading your lips apart, exposing your throbbing clit. He doesn’t waste a moment before burying his face in your cunt, tongue lapping at your sweet juices. Your body trembles as his lips wrap around your sensitive nub, sucking it.

Your hand flies to his hair, fingers tangling through his dark silky strands. His name spills from your lips, loud and needy. "Mmm," Eren murmurs. You can feel the vibrations of his voice against your clit, a moan slipping past your lips. His mouth continues to assault your cunt, his tongue flicking across your clit before his mouth closes around it again. Eren’s a prodigy, when it comes to eating pussy. His hand comes down hard on your thigh, the sting causing you to yelp.

“Ren!” You whine as he stops and looks up at you, lips shiny with your arousal. His lips curl into a smirk, and he wipes his mouth. The sight has your body trembling, and you can't help but let out a little whimper. You're so desperate to feel him. "Get on the table," his voice is rough, and his eyes are filled with a hunger that has you quivering. You obey without hesitation, hopping up on the table. Eren moves to stand in front of you, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. He's so close, and it has you aching.

He runs his fingers along your cheek, the gesture oddly tender considering what's going on. "Spread your legs," he says, and you do as you're told, "Good girl." The praise has you melting. You're putty in his hands. Eren grips his cock, lining it up with your entrance. You're dripping, practically begging to be fucked.

"Fuck," he groans, as he pushes into you. "Ah, fuck!" You cry out, eyes falling shut. Eren fills you perfectly. "Open your eyes, look at me." You blink a few times, his face slowly coming into focus. He's got a look in his eyes, something primal, something feral. He begins to move, rocking into you, slow and deep. "Fuck, you feel so good," he moans, his words making your pussy clench around his cock.

"Mmm," is the only response you can muster. He thrusts up into you, his cock filling you over and over again. The way he moves you is sinful, his large frame above you as he fucks up into you like a toy. “S-shit,” you whine as Eren picks up his pace, fucking you harder, deeper. The table creaks under the continuous movement. His name falls from your lips over and over, each time sounding more desperate than the last. You can feel yourself getting close, your orgasm building already.

Eren can tell, and he grabs your chin forcing you to look at him. "Look at me when I fuck you," he growls. You nod, groaning at the sight of him so flustered. You don’t even notice he’s grabbing the whipped cream you’d be previously using for a cake, until you’re shivering as the whipped mess makes contact with your hardened nipples. You feel his warm mouth on them, lapping up the mess, eliciting moans from you. His hips slam into yours, each thrust harder than the last. You take the can from his hands, smearing it on his toned stomach, tracing your name in the white foam, sucking the excess off your fingers.

“Oh my god,” he whimpers at the sight of you covered in the foamy mess. He leans down to kiss you once, then twice, it’s a disgusting kiss, spit dribbling from your chin as he cocks his head to the side deepening it. Your hands fist in his hair, holding him close, urging him to move faster as he begins to slowly trail down your chest. Taking his time sucking on your sensitive breasts. He looks up at you, his green eyes sparkling. "Such a pretty girl," he coos, his fingers digging into your thighs.

"I'm gonna cum," you whimper, your orgasm just out of reach. "Not yet, baby," he growls, his thumb pressing against your clit. "Not until I say so." Your back arches off the table, and you let out a needy moan. Eren continues to pound into you, his cock hitting all the right spots. All you can do is cry and take his relentless jabs, you feel that familiar knot in your stomach winding tighter. You attempt to push at Eren’s abs to ease up but he doesn't, slapping your hands away.

“You wanted this.” He grunts, before you can snap back at him you’re squirting all over his cock. It happens so suddenly that it takes both of you by surprise. Your entire body shakes, and you feel like you're going to pass out. His grip on your thighs tightens. Eren fucks you through your orgasm, brushing away tears that kiss your cheeks. “Ren. .” you babble, sore. “I know baby, I know.” He consoles, watching the ring of cream build around the base of his cock. The way you squeeze him, he knows he won’t last long. Drool gathers pathetically around the corners of your pouted lips as you desperately grip his shoulders for some sort of solace, nails digging in and leaving crescent-shaped marks imprinting his skin.

You look so sweet, so good. So fucking beautiful with him between your thighs, so pretty when he fucks you stupid. Eren groans, a deep rumble that echoes through his chest. He feels your cum leak out of you and down his balls and it makes him fuck you faster, the pleasure consuming. You wail and beg him to slow down. You try to push him off, but the grip he has on your body tightens. He growls at the movement, his hips speeding up as he chases his orgasm. You look up at him, brows knit. His head tilts back, mouth parted open in ecstasy. He’s so damn handsome.

“Turn around.” he utters, pulling out of you, mixed fluids dripping down your quivering thighs. Your legs feel like jello, you struggle to move. Eren grabs ahold of your arm and twists you around, bending you over the kitchen table. It takes all of your strength to stay in this position, your arms wobble, threatening to give out.

He pushes back into you, the head of his cock kissing the entrance to your cervix sweetly. The way his hands dig into your hips, the way his balls slap against your clit, his pace is brutal. You try to match his rhythm, but it's hard to move with your legs so weak. You moan loudly, Eren groaning. One of his hands slam against the glass, the other pulling you towards him, fucking you deeper than before. His thrusts are sloppy and desperate. You know he’s close as he grunts and hisses.

His hips begin to stutter, his breath ragged. He curses under his breath, one hand snaking around your throat forcing your head up. You're both breathing heavily, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose onto your back. You can hear him mumble something under his breath.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, baby." His fingers are still digging into the flesh of your hips, fucking you with a sense of urgency. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin is almost deafening. Cries of his name as he rocks into you, the force of his thrusts is enough to push you off the edge. He fucks you through your second orgasm, hips slowing until his movements are nothing but short staccato. He hates that he’s coming undone so fast but fuck you feel so good.

He curses under his breath, the hand that once clung to the edge of the table, moves to your head. Fingers grip your hair so tight you can feel the impending headache, his thrusts erratic. "Fuuuck.." he cries softly, body twitching, muscles contracting. His cock swells inside of you, sticky load of cum coating your walls.

Eren's movements become less frantic as he empties his load. Sucking in a sharp breath each time his cock spurts a fresh wave of cum inside you. Slowly releasing his grip on your hair he retracts, watching his cum spill out of your used hole. You can't see it, but he smirks, a look of satisfaction plastered on his face. He looks down at his softening cock that’s coated in a thin layer of cream. Your cream. "Did so well," he coos, running a finger along his shaft, collecting the white on the tip.

"Open." Immediately you’re opening your mouth obediently. Moaning as he glides his finger inside of your mouth, the taste of your combined fluids dancing across your tongue. "See how good you taste." He whispers. The taste is sweet. Salty. But you don't dislike it. He bends down and plants a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you." he hums, his eyes full of desire. You can’t but blush and avert your gaze, all these years and he still knows how to make you feel like a school girl. "I love you too Ren.” He gives you a soft smile and presses a kiss on your sweaty shoulder. “Mhm. Let’s get cleaned up and eat, nymph.”

“I hate you, don’t call me that.”

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

extra: she’s really empathetic, she’d make a great wife.

➴ chapter warnings: rumors, mentions of cheating.

➴ word count: 2.9k

💌 from me to you: and today i reached 600 followers. may or may not have cried. thank you so much. i hope you enjoy this one, and thank you anon for giving me this idea, i hope i met your expectations!

𖧷

𖧷

JACK BLINKED slowly, as if he wasn’t really sure if what he was seeing was actually real.

He sat up straight, resting his naked back against the wooden headboard, staring at the girl in front of him.

Sophia was resting against the glass door, wearing nothing but one of Jack’s old t-shirts that he doesn’t even recall putting inside his luggage, which can only mean she did it herself, something the singer’s often doing, wearing his clothes around, like she’s seeking for some kind of closeness that only he can provide.

She’s breathtaking, Jack remembers thinking. Even with no makeup on, even with puffy, tired eyes, and even with her hair slightly tangled from sleep, she’s breathtaking.

She’s not even doing anything important; she’s not singing, she’s not dancing, she’s not smiling for the thousands of cameras which are frequently shoved up her face. She’s simply existing, simply breathing, and that is enough to make Jack Hughes believe she’s the one for him.

He knows he is lucky. He knows she’s too good for him, and he knows that, one day, she’ll probably realize it, if she hasn’t already.

But, he also knows that as long as she lives, and maybe some time after that, he won’t ever love someone like he loves her. His heart won’t ever beat this fast for someone else, even if he wanted to.

Her laugh is enough to get him through his hardest days, her voice enough to bring him out of his dark thoughts. When he watches her on stage, dancing, singing, smiling and doing what she loves most, he’s certain that she’s enough to make him the happiest man alive.

So, that’s why they are where they are today. Because he can’t lose her. Not again, not ever.

He remembers feeling his heart dropping inside his chest when he read the article. "NHL Star Caught in Cheating Scandal: Sophia Montenegro and Jack Hughes Relationship in Turmoil".

Gladly, he had been one of the first to read the excruciating story. After that one incident where Sophia thought he was fucking his ex, Ava he thinks, his Google Alerts notifications for himself and Sophia are always on, and he doesn’t miss a single thing anymore.

That’s why he almost crushes his phone inside his hands when he reads the article, over and over again, memorizing the nasty, evil words plastered for everyone to see.

There’s a picture, too. A blurry, probably edited one, showing his face beside a random girl’s he doesn’t even know. His name is beside the word “cheater”, “unfaithful” and he’s being compared with that one asshole named Harris Dickinson.

He wants to kill someone.

It’s late at night, and he is away. Sophia is back in Newark at their shared apartment, and he knows she’s probably asleep by now. He won’t get home until later that night, and he’s seriously considering murdering whoever thought that coming up with this lie, now out of all times, would be a great idea.

She’s not answering her phone, as expected, and Jack Hughes wants to scream. He just had a shitty game, they lost 4-1, even after he shot the puck at the net twenty-three times alone— not even one earned him the glorious “goal honk”.

He spends the entire ride silent, because he knows his teammates have already seen the article. He can feel their eyes on him, and he can sense their pity too. Even Luke, who always chooses to stay quiet and watch from afar, is looking at him with worried, hooded eyes.

“I didn’t do it.” Jack mumbles, looking through the window and watching the dark sky above them.

“I know,” Luke hums, sounding upset. “That’s why I am worried.”

“They can’t fucking leave us alone,” Jack hisses, his frustrated tone echoing through the silent bus. “Do they have any idea what this does to Soph? Do they have any idea how fucking messed up this is?”

“She’s a tough girl,” Luke tries. “She’ll get over this.”

“What if,” Jack stops himself. No. Sophia will hear him out, she won’t shut him out like she did last time. This isn’t the first dating scandal they have to deal with, and it certainly will not be the last. “Fuck.”

“I know nothing I say will help but,” Luke sighs, then turns his head around until he’s facing his brother. “I’m here, we’re here. I love you.”

Jack blinks, nodding once. “I know. It helps.”

He arrives at their home at three forty-nine that night. He opens the door and closes it in record time, and he doesn’t even think twice before running to their bedroom, desperate to see if Sophia had run away and desperate to see if he’d find their bed empty.

He doesn’t, though. Sophia’s there, just not like he expected her to be, asleep. No. She’s sitting on top of the covers, resting her back against the headboard, eyes glued to the TV in front of her, some random show Jack didn’t even bother acknowledging playing in the back, muted.

“Baby.”

Her eyes are tired when she looks at him, and he hates it. Hates it because he knows she isn’t tired because she spent the night doing what she loves— she’s tired because she’s thinking nonstop, and she’s not well.

“Jack.”

“You’re not asleep.” He stated, standing in front of her, looking for something he wasn’t really sure of in her face. He didn’t find it.

She smiles, tiredly, tilting her head to the side. “Had this bad feeling on my chest, like something I didn’t even know what was about to blow up in my face.”

“I didn’t do it,” he blurts out. He’s panting and he knows he probably looks awful, but he doesn’t care. “Soph, listen to me. I didn’t d—”

“I know,” she softened her tone, patting the seat beside her, on Jack’s side of the bed. He immediately complies, sitting beside the woman he’d buy the moon for if she asked to. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know your heart, Jack.”

“Soph…”

“I know you,” she gulps, looking at something on his face, as she raises her hand and rests it against his chest. “I know you’re not him.”

“I fucking love you, Soph,” he says, and he can’t believe he’s on the verge of tears. Jack Hughes, the sassy, though player, is on the verge of crying because he can’t stomach the thought of losing his girlfriend. “I’d give you my life if you asked me to. You know that.”

“I don’t want you to,” she smiles, softly, her eyes filled with tears too. “Where’s the fun in that? I want you by my side, every day. I want people to write your name on my biography when I die, and I want people to know that you’re it for me.”

“I’m going to kill whoever wrote that,” he promises. “I know I can find them, and I know I can make them pay for what they did, I just know that,” he’s seeing red, and he’s ready to punch someone in the face when Sophia kisses him, sweet, honeyed lips touching each other.

“Let’s make the most out of this,” she whispers. “This time, let’s just see the glass half full.”

Making the most out of that awful situation turned out to be spending a week at Calilo, a private, five star hotel in Ios, a Greek island.

The room they chose had a private pool, and a private entrance to the beach, which they were in love with. Sophia cried when they opened the hotel’s room door because of course she did, and Jack took a picture of her there to send to the family group chat, before turning his wifi off, something he promised he’d do once they arrived at their destination.

For seven days, one hundred and sixty-eight hours, ten thousand and eight minutes, six hundred four thousand, eight hundred seconds, they weren’t going to be the famous singer and Hockey player, Sophia Montenegro and Jack Hughes.

No. They’d be Sophia and Jack, a normal couple living a normal life.

“We could be royalty, king and queen of nowhere,” Sophia sings, voice smooth and quiet, yet enough to make Jack want to jump out of bed and kiss her senseless. “Lose it all, everything. As long as we got you and I, you and me, they can tear this whole house down. All we have is love.”

“Did I die and go to Heaven?” Jack mumbles, and smiles as Sophia turns around and faces him. He barely tries to hide the way he scans her body with hungry eyes, lingering over the outline of her boobs for longer than he probably should.

“Some people do say I’m an angel,” she blinks innocently, and walks towards the bed, sitting on Jack’s lap, gracefully putting her legs on each side of Jack’s body. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a girl who just got knocked up.” He smirks, and Sophia laughs, throwing her head back as Jack holds her in place with his hands on her waist, carefully arranging her on top of him.

“We’ll have to work on this newly developed kink of yours…” she winks.

“Like it isn’t your fault,” he rolls his eyes, playfully, staring at the outline of her panties sitting right on top of his own boxers. “Making a song about wanting to get knocked up. Singing said song in front of thousands of people. Asking me to fuck you in unthinkable positions just so you could do them on stage.”

“I mean…” she smirks. “I gotta keep my fans interested, right? And what are boyfriends for if not for helping their girlfriends out?”

“You’re unreal, Sophia Montenegro,” Jack says, leaning forward and kissing the singer fervently. She tastes sweet, she tastes like his favorite person in the world.

But maybe that’s just because that’s what she is.

𖧷

SOPHIA HAD already forgotten how good it was to live a normal life.

She loves her fans, she really does. She also loves to sing, and she loves to be this huge pop star people say she is, but also loves to be human. She loves to walk around without thousands of people taking pictures of her and analyzing everything she does. She loves to eat a silent dinner by herself or with her friends and family and not have several cameras in her face.

When Jack suggested, after that terrible article, that they should travel somewhere quiet and safe, she thought he was just kidding. It was June, he was technically off his NHL player duties, and she did have some time before she had to headline festivals and make appearances in TV shows so it made sense for them to take some time for themselves, but they had never done that before— why, she doesn’t know, but now she realizes how dumb they had both been.

Ios was a small island, and the few people who were there didn’t know who they were. They walked around with their hands together without anyone batting an eye at them, and even when they asked for people to take pictures of them together, no one hit them with the usual “oh my God, are you that one singer and that one player?”

People treated them normally, and she couldn’t be happier. The past few weeks had been like hell, living on the edge and worrying that something would break them apart, but now?

Now, they were walking together after eating Chicken Gyros and Bubble Waffles with chocolate ice cream (“That’s too sweet, baby, it’s disgusting.”, “You’re disgusting, Rowdy.”), making their way to the private beach in front of their bedroom, which Sophia promptly said it belonged to them from now on.

She spent the entire walk singing, because Jack had asked her to. The lyrics of I Have A Dream slipped out of her mouth like syrup, each sentence sweeter than the previous one. Jack, who has been holding her hand and watching her the entire time, smiled and felt his hands getting sweaty.

“I have a dream, a song to sing. To help me cope with anything, if you see the wonder of a fairy tale, you can take the future even if you fail. I believe in angels.”

She loved this song, it had been one of the many who inspired her to be a singer. And to get to sing it in Greece, while holding hands with the person she’s sure to be the love of her life?

She won.

Her white sundress contrasted perfectly with the sunset in the background, and when she and Jack decided that they wanted to sit by the sea, the sun was already saying its last words.

“It’s beautiful.” She sighs, content.

“It is, yeah,” Jack answers, but when she turns around, he’s not looking at the view, he’s looking at her.

She laughs, smacking his chest. “Did you just call me ‘it’?”

“I don’t know, man, I heard the word beautiful and thought we were talking about you.” He cheesily answers, and she rolls her eyes at him.

“You’re actually so annoying,” Sophia chuckles, moving the sand around with her feet. “I don’t know how I’ve been handling your ass for almost five years.”

Jack stays silent for a while, something that isn’t like him at all, but Sophia doesn’t ask anything. He’s been like that since that one article, and even though she can tell it still bothers him, she promised him she wouldn’t ask any more questions.

It was upsetting, to say the least, to know that people were constantly praying for their downfall. At least once every two months they would come up with a new genius idea of how they weren’t together anymore, and how they hated each other, and how Jack was a freaking cheater and how Sophia was a homewrecker.

She understands that they may not look like the perfect match— who would’ve thought? The bratty, Mr. I-hate-media-attention dating the singer whose name is practically in every headline and whose face is in almost every magazine cover, not to mention her songs always doing numbers in the charts.

But they are happy.

So, so happy.

“I don’t think I want to leave,” Sophia whispers, listening to the sounds of the waves in front of them. Her head is resting on Jack’s shoulder, and he has his left hand wrapped around her thigh. “Like, ever.”

Jack hums. “Not even to make concerts?”

“Well. Maybe,” she sounds childish and Jack smiles. “I wish I could have all of that with all of this. You know what I mean? This peace, their love. Is it weird?”

“Not really, baby. A bit confusing, though.” He kisses her temple, and she chuckles.

“I’ve been in the spotlight for half of my life. Ever since I’ve decided that I wanted to be famous, I’ve been watched like some kind of wild animal,” she whispers, voice filled with emotion. “I love what I do. But… I also love who I am when I’m not performing. When I’m not Sophia Montenegro. I like it when I’m just… yours, for example.”

“Soph—”

“I’m sorry if it sounds confusing…” she pouts, and Jack smirks.

“Do you like being mine?” He asks, and she rolls her eyes at him, annoyed by the obvious question.

“You already know the answer to that,” she says. “Of course I do.”

“Would you like to be mine for the rest of our lives?” He lowers his voice, and Sophia furrows her eyebrows, lifting her head up and staring at the man sitting beside her.

“I mean I would but…” she watches his face. He looks beautiful, she thinks. His eyes match the sea. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because I want to know if you’d say yes.” He simply says. Sophia notices he’s shaking, though.

“If I’d say yes to what?” She answers, but she can feel her heart racing inside her chest already.

“To be my wife,” he finally says, pulling a black, velvet box out of his jeans pocket, and opening at the same time her first tears start to roll down her cheeks. “I also love who you are when you’re not performing, but I love it even more when you’re just mine. So, please, Soph, tell me—”

“Jack—” she gasps, putting her hand in front of her mouth.

“Will you marry me? Will you make me the happiest man alive and let me make you my wife?” He asks, blue eyes full of expectations and hope.

Sophia laughs wetly before throwing herself in front of her boyfriend— fiancé—, kissing him messily, just because she can. And because she wants him to feel the turmoil going on inside her, and what he did to her.

How he found her, a garden with no flowers— and then he bought the seeds, planted and watered them, and how he’s now watching them grow and bloom. How he delicately took care of each one of them, and how he’d kiss them gently before going away.

“This could go very wrong,” she says, voice trembling as Jack puts the ring, a very fancy one she notices, on her finger. “You could get tired of me. And you could realize I’m not that cool—”

“Soph, forget it,” Jack laughs. “I’m not letting you go anytime soon. So either you start getting used to being called Sophia Montenegro Hughes now or you’ll have a very hard time.”

“I fucking love you.” She sobs, rolling her wet eyes at him.

“Always so romantic, my postar,” he kisses her cheeks, wiping her tears with his lips. “I happen to fucking love you too.”

𖧷

sophiamontenegro

Ios, Greece

liked by morgan.grace, tyla, elblue6 and 3,902,012 others

sophiamontenegro that feeling when you’re sooo empathetic he had no other option but to make you his wife 💌 that’s that me engaged i guess

View all 9,103 comments

user1 SOPHIA I FUCKING LOVE YOU

user2 HARD LAUNCHING YOUR ENGAGEMENT WHEN PEOPLE SPEND THE ENTIRE MONTH TALKING ABOUT YOUR “BREAK UP” WHAT A QUEEN

trevorzegras That feeling when you have knee surgery tomorrow :/

sophiamontenegro trevorzegras 👍🏻

morgan.grace YOU BETTER CALL ME RIGHT FUCKING NOW SOPHIA WHAT THE HELL

sophiamontenegro morgan.grace on it baby 🫡

user3 THE CAPTION

user4 ngl i thought they wouldn’t last a week but look at them 4 years later getting married

user5 soph you better live stream your wedding pls

jackhughes 😈

user6 we survived another “jack and sophia broke up” moment let’s GOOOOO

user7 album when

𖧷

jackhughes

liked by lhughes_06, njdevils, curtislazar95 and 293,928 others

jackhughes

View all 2,892 comments

lhughes_06 👍🏻

user0 lhughes_06 average hughes brothers reaction

user1 It’s okay Jack we know how overwhelming choosing a caption talking about your engagement with the world’s most famous pop singer can be…

user2 THE SCREENSHOT LMFAO HE DID SOPH DIRTY

sophiamontenegro delete that or i’m asking for a divorce

jackhughes sophiamontenegro we’re not even married yet ?

nicohischier Congrats Jack and Soph ❤️

_quinnhughes congrats!! love ya

elblue6 🥹

subbanator HELL YEAAAAH

trevorzegras Can’t wait until the priest says speak now or forever hold your peace and I get up 😌

jackhughes trevorzegras you’re not even invited

trevorzegras jackhughes 🙁

user3 didn’t know yall were locked in like that

user4 my sister just started screaming and crying 😂

user5 Mama and Papa 💜

user6 THE CONTACT NAME NOOOO

[sashaaababy]

Husband!Sukuna(Trueform) Headcannons₊˚⊹ ᰔ

𐙚Cws: Smut, B*nd4ge, Cr**mpies, somnophilia, Rough s*x, After care, c*m play, an*l, p!ss

Husband!Sukuna who loves how cute you’re small body looks below him when he has you in the meanest mating press known to man kind!! Bullying his 13.5inch cocks into you’re small cunt and ass hole until you swear you’re holes are about to rip

Husband!Sukuna who loves tying you up in the weirdest positions so he can get all angles of you’re holes and how they twitch and flutter around nothing begging for his thick cocks without you needing to even say anything 

Husband!Sukuna who loves forcing his cocks so deep into you and pressing down on that bulge that forms in you’re belly with the outline of his cock 

Husband!Sukuna who loves the feeling of you’re pussy but might love the feeling of you’re asshole squeezing around his cock till he gets the feeling of it cutting off circulation even more!

Husband!Sukuna who loves to watch his and you’re cum spill out of both red and puffy abused holes he cant help but run his fingers through the sticky white mess and smear it all over you’re ass and smack it until its red with his hand marks

Husband!Sukuna who cant help himself when he gets a boner in the middle of the night, so while you’re sleeping he will try his best not to wake up his baby by slipping one of his cocks into you’re warm gushy hole 

Husband!Sukuna who even though absolutely loves you till the ends of the earth loves to use you as his own toilet when he fucks you and is to lazy to go to the bathroom “Hnngh..s-sukuna what is that why do I feel so w-warm inside” and he will always just lie to you not wanting to make you feel all gross and icky:( “don't worry baby don't focus on it yeah? Its just my pre baby. Just keep focusing on my cock hitting that gummy spot you got”

Husband!Sukuna who always makes sure to give his sweet girl after care after being so rough with her and filling her holes up with so many fluids her belly is all bloated and squishy 

[just-some-random-blogger]

im having so much fun

Oh hell no I'm walking out

HAHHAHAHAAHHA CRYINGGGGGGGGGGGGG

sHUT UP DONT TALK TO ME IS SO REAL HAHAHAH. the maester was trying to be glass half full lol. your reactions to Daemon's scenes in the stepstones HAHAHH IT GIVES ME LIFE, this especially

His crash out is about to be insane

and you being offended by gwayne's response to his twin HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH TRUEEEEEE but also, unfortunately gwayne is a level headed voice of reason *disappointed grumbling noises*

Im so happy that you react to the small scenes i always kind of worry no one will take notice of. ITS ALL SO IMPORTANT TO ME FR, like Arryk and yn's interaction that you quoted, UGHHHH

It's insane how he says this but then ignores all his children after. I think he had or has good intentions but still man

nah fr. viserys is that fuck ass rat. like what do you mean you had visions of a son AND NEGLECT AEGON AND THE REST OF YOUR KIDS WITH YOUR WHOLE CHEST ���😀😀😀 LEAVE IT TO A MAN FR. i'd literally also go to war for baby Aegon ): my poor boy

i was a bit worried about writing the miscarriage, as i HATE it when women's sufferings are framed like porn, far too graphic, detailed, and exhibitionist. but i also didn't want to just say annnnd her babies are dead. i wanted her to have her moment. i wanted to focus on, horrible to say, the 'beauty' of it, like dont get me wrong its tragic its horrendous but that's the only time she'll ever have with Alaeric and Alyrie, and i wanted her to have it, her solemn moment.

i'm happy you like the cargyll's relationship because 😁😁😁😁

Daemon is back and shit's about to go down.

You sure know how to write angst cause OH MY GOD?? I could barely see by the time I finished it cause there were so many tears running down my face and neck.

this is all i ever want when i write angst 💗💗💗 like idk you'd believe me if i said i love angst because its a struggle to write it??? HAHHAAHHA like when i was in high school (which is such a strange sentence wtf do you mean im not a high schooler fucking hell) i would read my friends angst and be like ??? why cant i do that?? it does not come easy to me. i was a fluff queen !!! still am!! i was a bit scared i lost it cos of this fic, like i wrote a weasley twins fluff fic and i was like DAMN I SUCK AT WRITING FLUFF NOW TOO, but i got the hang of it again.

FAM I FORGOT HOW FUN IT CAN BE TO WRITE FLUFF KLASHFKLAHSKFLHAFHLASFKHAF

anyway i'm super happy you like my writing even if it hurt. i love you 🪓 use a fucking keep reading damnit. SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!!

Tormented Spirit | 12

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: i would just like to bring everyone's attention to the fact this fic is called tormented spirit. BTW some of yall might wanna read my weasely twins fluff cuz 😀 yeah you should read some fluff! leave comments/reblogs ok!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Since your sister's wedding, there were two things you no longer did: speak to your sister and go to your father. Everyday, instead of having the Lord Hand accompany you to your maester, you were accompanied by one of your wards.

At first, you were apprehensive with the change. After all, they were your knights, but neither of them were the father to your babe, and even fathers were rarely involved with prenatal care. Though, the patience they extended is not unusual, you were surprised that Erryk and Arryk took time asking the maester additional information concerning things that might need their attention in the future.

Today, you walk to the maester's ward, one hand on your belly the other on Erryk's bicep. As he opens the door, you freeze when you hear the voices in the room.

"Daughter." "Sister."

These words are spoken at the same time. You clench your teeth and turn to Erryk, whose jaw is set. You take a breath and decide to simply come back later.

Alicent stands the cot she sat upon and raises a hand, "please! I'm finished. You can come now."

Finished? Why is she being examined by the maester?

Otto is angered by your persistence to ignore them. He scowls and glares at Erryk, "you remind your princess to practice some humility," he points a finger, "her actions are affecting the queen, who is now carrying an heir."

Your face drops as you turn to her.

She is already staring at you. You watch her pick her nails. You catch the redness of her cuticles.

Erryk is equally shocked. He stutters before nodding in regard, "congratulations, my queen."

Alicent shakes her head, forcing a smile, "t-thank you, ser."

Your father's eyes remain on you. He waits for you to offer the same sentiment, but his anger only intensifies at your continued silence. He scoffs, "will you not even congratulate your sister?"

You clutch your pronounced belly and turn to your maester, "may we please do the examination? I cannot bear to stand for long."

Otto and Alicent watch you move past them. The latter is resigned to your commitment of not speaking to her, the former seethes and laughs dryly. He offers his arm to the queen, "come, daughter. Let us pray that your sister's impertinence is merely as side effect of childbearing."

Your sister spares you a glassy glance before taking Otto's arm and leaving with him. You watch as they leave, feeling yourself grow hard of breathing.

The maester asks you to sit, but before you do, you snatch his arm, "is she truly with child?"

He looks at your teary face. He feels the tremble of your hand as he places his own atop of it. He carefully speaks "it is joyous news, is it not?"

You release a shaky breath as he helps you sit.

"Princess," the maester warily says, "breathe for me. We cannot proceed if you overcome by your affliction."

You place both your hands on your belly and take a couple deep breaths. You close your eyes and resist the sob that threatens to come. A couple of tears wet your cheeks, but you manage to remain intact. You wipe your face and mutter to yourself, "it's barely been a moon since they've wed."

Your maester hears it though and offers, "your sister is blessed with a fertile womb."

You wish he had not tried to comfort you with such an idea.

You try not to think of Alicent as you do your daily examination, but she is all you think of. You think of how frightened she must be. You think of how your father surely told her about your daily visits to the maester. You wonder if he would force her to do the same, just to get you to talk to her. She wouldn't need daily examinations like you; she is perfectly healthy, stronger than you, as she said herself.

You are so deep in thought, you don't even realize the maester was finished with you, up until he says something that demands your full attention.

"What?" you knit your brows at him.

"We will be more certain of it as the moons wax and wane, but considering you are a twin yourself, and, again, because of the rather rapid growth of your belly, chances are my deduction is correct."

He helps you up and Erryk is quick to take your arm. You mutter through a shaky breath, "I'm carrying twins?"

Your maester nods, "highly likely."

You turn to Erryk, who offers you a reassuring smile, "I... congratulate you, my princess."

You stare at him for a moment and blink rapidly.

"You might give birth to a boy and girl who will have the same devotion you and your brother have," Erryk says in an attempt to take away some of the fear written across your face.

It does actually. You recall your visit to Oldtown and find yourself nodding, "I... I must write a letter at once."

Many moons come and go, but across the sea, the sun shines. Daemon's day has just started. His mood is nothing but sour, as it always is. He is loathe to start his day, but he does, and with a grunt, and leaves his tent to break his fast.

We eats with the Velaryons, Corlys, Vaemond, and Laenor, and though he did not hold any particular fondness for them, there was something in the way they all spoke in nothing but High Valyrian that made mornings not completely unbearable.

"My prince," Corlys greets him in their mother tongue. He hands Daemon a plate, "duck."

Daemon raises his brow at it, "with salt?"

"And pepper," Leanor says with a half-amused expression.

"My," Daemon sits down with them, "I am spoiled."

Corlys waits for Daemon to have a few bites before continuing conversation. He clears his throat, "before the day passes, allow me, my brother, and my son-" he looks between the said people, earning furrowed brows from Laenor, "-to greet you, both on behalf of House Velaryon, and as your comrade in battle for you—"

"Oh, yes!" Leanor interjects once he remembers, "congratulations, my prince!"

This earns him a look from his father, and his uncle. Laenor, who had been grinning, slowly raises his brows, "a-... apologies for interrupting, father."

Corlys sighs, "as I was-"

"And have we won the war overnight?" the prince says, rather uninterested, both in small talk and in his duck.

Corlys is confused by this, "I... no." He slowly tilts his head, "does your lady wife not write to you?"

Daemon is immediately on edge at the mention of you, "and what of her?"

Corlys narrows his eyes. He puts him to the test, "... you are aware your brother, the king, has remarried?"

Daemon whips his head his direction.

"And that also he expects an heir to be delivered come spring?"

"Remarried?!" Daemon repeats in offence, "and which scheming cunt managed to tricked him into marriage?"

Corlys turns to Vaemond, who turns to Leanor, who turns back to Corlys. The latter clears his throat, "your bride's sister, my prince."

His eyes widen. He looks between the Velaryons, then scoffs dryly. He begins to laugh, "that roach of a Hand has Viserys's bollocks shoved down his fucking throat."

Their faces contort at the foul language. Vaemond, in particular, is so offended that he cannot help but ask, "doesn't the princess write to you every day?"

Daemon clenches his plate

"And she never mentioned thi—"

"WHAT USE HAVE I TO READ THE WEEPY WRITING OF MY WIFE?!" the prince snaps, coming to a stand as he chucks his plate to the ground.

Corlys understands then Daemon's initial shock. However, he is still confused, "have you not read any letters from your wife?"

"Would you rather I be distracted, Corlys?" he snaps again, hands now clenched into fists.

Corlys is not intimidated by Daemon's anger, but he is also unincited by the idea a fight. He raises his hands in surrender, "most men gladly welcome distractions in the heat of war."

Daemon chuckles dryly, "I am not most men," then storms all the way back to his tent.

"Jiōragon hen ñuha ñuhoso!" he snaps in High Valyrian still, shoving the unwitting soldier aside. Get out of my way!

He returns to his tent. Another unwitting victim is there. "My prince," he bows, "a letter from Lady H-" Daemon snags the letter from him and shoves him away with exceeding anger and force.

He enters his tent and immediately chucks the letter to the floor, as if it was a vase he intended to shatter into a million pieces. It doesn't, of course; the paper remains intact, along with its seal. He crushes it beneath his heel then grabs the sack containing all your unread letters. He empties it on the floor and violently begins to stomp all over them.

You were his. You were meant to be his! Yet here you were, a pawn in someone else's game. His lust and infatuation has blinded him from this truth. You and your sister were mere tools of your cunt father to manipulate the throne.

He continues to trample your letters until they are brown with the dirt. He catches a lone letter that managed to evade his violence. He picks the unscathed object and only now does he realize its red waxen seal had an imprint of a dragon with a long neck that resembled Caraxes. Daemon scoffs, even his dragon you covet.

He breaks the seal. The letter was sent nearly a moon ago.

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢; ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡. ℑ 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔫. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢, 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢

A good place to raise children?! He scoffs and crumples the paper away. You fantasize of bearing his seed now? He laughs at the idea, chucking the paper across his tent. His amusement goes dry when he realizes it must be your father's ploy.

He's read enough.

Back in the Keep, you too receive a letter. It is from Gwayne, whose weekly response has finally arrived. You do not mind that he does not write to you daily as you did; you are grateful to receive a response at all.

You were set on reading his response, but as is was, you were experiencing terrible nausea and found yourself unable to sit or lie still. For some reason, the only thing that could combat this was walking around. You instead had your ward read your brother's words aloud for you.

Arryk's eyes trail back and forth you and your letter. He comes to your side when you gag, "princess."

You place a hand on your mouth, walking away from him. He watches as you circle your bed, "perhaps, I-"

"Please," you sigh, "do not make me beg you to read it."

Arryk stiffens and shakes his head, "my apologies, your grace." He turns to the parchment, "my twin."

" Louder," you grunt as you momentarily lean on your bed.

"My twin," Arryk repeats slightly louder, "I pray that your health is good, that you have been eating and sleeping as goodly as you did in the days of your visit here."

You take a deep breath and walk towards nothing in particular.

"While I confess a certain light has been lost in the halls of our Oldtown home since your leave, I..." your ward knits his brows, "disagree with your sentiments to return."

"What?" you gasp softly, turning to Arryk.

He looks at you and hesitates, "I... will not honey my words: you disappoint me with your coldness towards our youngest."

You clench your teeth as you feel another gag coming up, "fucking, Gwayne."

"She has written to me more than once to lament your severed relations since she's wed."

Your scoff makes Arryk pause. You look at him as you walk over, "do not stop."

He looks at you as you walk past him. He clears his throat, "I did not speak of it until now, for I believed you to be wiser than your betrayal."

"Ha!" you scoff, eyes immediately watering, "incorrigible pest," you grunt and rub your belly. You pace faster, "unyielding. Unfeeling."

Arryk watches you pace and takes a few steps back and forth so to remain arms reach of you.

"Continue!"

He stiffens, "I—," he turns back to your brother's words, "you've written you believe it will be better for you both that you away, lest your childbearing interlope with hers. I disagree. Consider me a fool-"

"He is," you scratch your eyes.

"-a man who knows nothing of childbirth, which I am, but I know my sisters— I know you at the very least." Arryk watches you as he says the next words, "leaving Alicent will haunt you, your satisfaction short-lived."

You stop in your tracks. You feel your dress tighten around you.

"Lay down your pride and allow yourself to reach for your sister who understands your struggle unlike anyone in the Seven Realms now more than ever."

You feel sick, sicker.

"Upon doing so, see then if you still wish to come to home."

You heave as you continue walking around.

"I offer many prayers to the Mother for both you and our sister. We are truly grown from the same womb, for I too share in your hope that you give birth to a twin boy and girl."

You rub your belly, as the thought softens you a fraction.

"Mostly, I speak thanks and praise for I am to be doubly an uncle. I pray your births come timely and smoothly, and I pray the Lord Hand has extended nothing but gentleness to you both," he folds the paper, "Your Twin."

"See now," you turn to Arryk, "even my twin betrays me, abandons me," you feel tears run down your cheek.

He slowly walks towards you, "that is not what he's done, my princess."

"Then what?!" you shake your hands, "am I not allowed even my anger now?!"

He is taken off guard when you shove him back.

"Even you are against me!"

Arryk steps back, though you barely mustered enough force for him to need to. You quickly pace around again. He feels the flesh beneath his steel you touched begin to push. His lips part "do not accuse me so harshly."

You whip your head back, glaring at him with red eyes, "SHE COULD HAVE BEEN MARRIED TO A LORD IN THE RIVERLANDS! OR HIGHGARDEN!" You throw your hand out, "ANYWHERE BUT HERE, BUT HERE SHE IS!"

His face falls when your rage makes you crumble. He gasp your name out as he catches you just before you fall.

"And for what?!" you wheeze as you are dragged to your bed. You rip at your collar as your chest tightens and tightens and tightens, "for me?"

"Princess," the knight's voice breaks with worry as he sits you down, "I beg you, ple-"

"Undress me," you mutter as you strugggle for air, "unlace my dress, I-"

He does not wait. He is quick to undo your bodice. He is so frantic, he nearly cuts your ties.

You moan as you feel a pressure leave you. You rip your dress off you, thinking of nothing else but catching your breath. Arryk helps you undress and you find it slightly easier to breath once you are left in nothing but your chemise.

Your ward struggles with himself; he does not wish to take advantage of this moment to ogle you, but he also cannot avert his gaze completely, lest you need his assistance. He clenches his jaw and lowers his gaze to his lap, muttering your name softly.

"Never mind my inadequacies, Arryk," you sigh in between deep breaths, "never mind that I will forever be second best to my father, who even wed me to his greatest enemy... who I am to make grandsire to not one but two Targaryen babes."

"Princess," he shakes his head, "I do not wish to-"

"I am used to his insistence of my dimness," you rub your chest, "of my capacity only for tears and succumbing to my own pain," your lips wobble, "but my sister—"

He stiffens and turns to you as lean into him. Your breath is too short and your head too heavy for you to keep yourself upright. Arryk calls our your name as he shifts, bringing his arm around to pull you upright.

"No," you wince, feeling a sharp pain in your belly, "hold me please."

He is immediately alarmed by how you clutch your side, "princess, are you-"

"Please," you rest your head on his armor, "hold me, even if you do not want to."

His hand twitches before, placing it your bare arm. He leans close, close enough to press his lips on your head, but he does not dare. He rubs your skin and whispers, "I want for nothing else."

You are too distracted by yourself that you do not hear him. Uncomfortable as the feel of his armor was, he lulls you into calmness.

When you feel well enough to realize how compromising it would be if someone were to witness you both, you pull away.

He says nothing, does nothing. He simply sit besides you, taking in your sad face.

You a tear drip from the tip of your nose. You rub it away before mumbling, "I had well-made plans for her... plans to shield her, to prosper her."

His eyes fall. He looks at the hand you had on your lap and dares to take it. It is cold and clammy, which is why he rubs it, eager to spread warmth.

The gesture makes goosebumps form on your arms. It makes your breath hitch, but not in a painful way. His gentleness encourages you to continue, "I once thought she looked up to me," you sniffle, "but when she said she was stronger than I," you lower your head.

He frowns.

"I knew then," you look back at him, "she sees only my weakness, along with the rest of the world."

He cannot help himself. He reaches for your cheek and wipes your tears.

You lean into his touch, "I can be strong, Arryk," you both his hands and squeeze them to prove a point, "can you not feel it?"

The gesture makes his heart break. He squeezes your hands in return, "you need not prove such a thing to me," he rubs your skin with his thumbs, "perhaps she does not want you to be strong... not for her."

You huff, "I am her older si-"

"But for your babe."

You are frozen by his words. You open your mouth but find nothing to say.

"Your brother," he gives you a solemn expression, "he says he prays the Lord Hand extends his gentleness to you, but I wonder if all that remained of his gentleness manifested into his daughters' beings."

The thought brings a tear from your eye, "Arryk."

"My princess."

"Should I speak to my sister come the morrow?"

He squeezes your hand again before slowly nodding.

The next day, you do everything in your power to do just that. You found Alicent breaking her fast, but you did not want to inadvertently ruin her appetite with your sudden appearance, for you knew how fickle it was in these times. Later, you found her in her chambers napping, but you didn't wish to interrupt her then either.

The rest of the day, you started feeling unwell, and you could not find it in you to leave your own chambers. When you finally did, the sun had set and Alicent was nowhere to be found. As a last resort, you ventured to the king's chambers.

Erryk announces you once you reach Viserys's door. You look at your knight with apprehension but he only returns a reassuring nod. There is a rather... sickly smell that assaults your senses when the door opens. The king himself answers, brows quirked in surprise.

"My king," you barely manage a curtsy. Erryk nods, "your grace."

Viserys regards you both then asks, "what brings you to my chambers at this hour?"

"I wanted to know if my sister was here," you absentmindedly rub your belly, "I wish to speak to her."

The king catches your belly, "oh, yes." He places a hand on your shoulder, "you are also with child," he chuckles, "I keep forgetting to congratulate you face to face."

You are taken aback by the half-hug he pulls you into.

Viserys chuckles as he pulls away, "well done, my dear. You have made the realm, and more importantly my brother, all the more richer for this."

You are rigid as he beckons you inside. Viserys motions to Erryk dismissively, and he nods. You wards gives you a silent look, and you know he'll wait for you outside.

Once you enter, you are assaulted by a scent that has clearly been attempted to be masked by fragrances. It makes you gag slightly, but it is not so bad that you cannot comport yourself.

You had expected to be lead to your sister, but instead, the king leads you to a massive diorama of what you could tell to be King's Landing.

"I am unsure where my wife is presently-"

His regard to your sister makes you clench your jaw.

"-but she visits me oft at this time of hour. Might as well show you my miniature figurines whilst waiting," he grins as he motions to the said object.

You feel an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach as you walk over to him.

Viserys immediately beams over his creation, recounting the trouble he had carving out the tower, exclaiming how much he enjoyed shaping the bridge. You have never seen him in such a light and it makes you wonder if this was his true self. Did he regard your husband this way? What were they like as children?

As he handed you two separate failed attempts of carving his fallen dragon, Balerion, you listen to him muse how the beast's skull was preserved in the basement bellow, and how he would gladly bring you there if you wanted to see. You groan and slightly lurch when another painful sensation ripples within you.

Viserys notices this. He quickly takes the figurines from you, "oh, where are my manners," he pulls a chair to your side, "sit, sit."

You gratefully take a seat and take a couple deep breathes as the king continues to drone about his diorama.

"You know, I used to make toy soldiers for Daemon growing up. I was aghast when he came back to me with severed heads."

You chuckle at his words, but instantly regret it when it adds to your pain.

"I still made him new ones, but this time, I put less effort and detail," Viserys speaks before noticing your reaction, "are you alright?"

"Mmm," you shake your head, "I think my babes are moving."

His brows quirk, "ah. That's right. You are expecting twins, are you not?"

You release a sigh when the uncomfortable sensations finally wane. You take a breath and offering a smile, "so says my maester. I hope it to be a boy and girl, like me and Gwayne."

He smiles, "it is quite fortunate that you and your sister are to have children at the same time," he looks over his miniature castle, "don't you think?"

"I think..." you turn to your belly, another groan leaving your lips, "Alicent is not ready to have children."

Viserys turns to you.

You look up at him and purse your lips, "nor am I."

He chuckles softly, "none of us are," he places a hand on your shoulder, "but I assure you, you learn as you go."

You find no comfort in his words.

"You know who has been ready though," he raises a finger, "Daemon."

The thought nearly makes you flinch.

He chuckles, "do not look so averted. There is gentleness in him," he turns back to his diorama, "do you not perceive it?"

You begin to feel sick.

"I tell you, when Rhaenyra was born, his face shone."

Your brows tighten at the smile the king offers you.

"I could tell as he held my child, he thought her the most precious thing in the worlds," Viserys face softens, "I could tell he wanted to have something precious to hold as his own," he absentmindedly examines a chisel, "the gods bless me with a wife who is going to birth me something precious," he turns to you, "and a good-sister who is going to birth my brother something doubly precious."

His words make your heart tinge. You are blindsided by how genuine, how vulnerable your conversation is. You wonder if Alicent saw this amidst the cruelty of the world and decided to settle for it rather than the uncertainty from another man. As he falls deeper into another fond tale of his brother, you feel a dull pain spread across your hips.

"That reminds me," he claps his hands, "do you have any names picked out yet?"

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, "well... I've-" you huff, "gone through some books that held Valyrian names," you inhale, "and found a few names for boys, namely Vaerus,—"

"Ah, Vaerus," Viserys repeats, "meaning genuine."

"Eadan—"

He grins and points, "little fire."

"—and Alaeric," you huff.

"Hmm," he turns to the ceiling in thought, "no, I don't know that one."

You are restless because of your pain. You groan as you stand, "I- mmm- prefer the last one the most because it is similar to my mother's name, and I should like to name my boy and girl after her."

He chuckles, "you seem quite set on a boy and a girl."

"Mmm," you hum uncomfortably, "I- I hope for it." You rub your belly, "I hope they have fondness for each other like me and mine own twin."

He knits his brows at your demeanor, "a son and a daughter would suit you well," he smiles fondly, "what was the name of your late mother again?"

"A-" you groan, "Alyrie."

Viserys finally reaches for you, "are you quite certain you're alright?"

You hum as you take the king's bicep, squeezing him tightly, "mmm, I should like to lie down now."

"Yes, of course," he shakes his head, leading you to the door.

Just before you can reach the entrance, a great pain forces you to lurch forward and yelp. You grip onto Viserys's arm for dear life and he grips you with hands. He thinks to grab the chair he pulled for you again, but as he looks back , his eyes widen at the trail of blood that leads to it. "GUARD! GUARD!"

You are in too much pain to react to the king's screams. You can only screw your eyes shut.

Erryk bursts through the doors, face white, heart racing.

"CALL THE MAESTER AT ONCE! SHE'S BLEEDING!"

Your eyes widen at the word, "bleeding?" You momentarily manage to gather enough wits to see what Viserys was speaking of.

Erryk does not linger in his horror. He bolts out and sprints down the halls, screaming for a maester as if his life depended on it because yours did.

The sight of your blood is mortifying. You lift your skirt as pain continues to seizes and a horrified noise leaves you when you find the red that pools by your foot.

It all happens at once after. An ache so great forces you to the floor. You are burning hot yet shivers run down your spine. You do not know if Viserys is speaking as you slowly crumple your knees but you do know that you are screaming loud.

Then it passes. Serenity ebbs and flows. You manage to sit on your but, but then it's back with a vengeance. You resist the squeal that morphs into to a shriek and then— you gasp, "no."

Viserys watches, the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms watches as you rip your skirt up and tear your ruined undergarments down, powerless.

Your scream makes his stomach curdle.

Your hands tremble as you reach for the two small bodies between your thighs. You bring them into your chest, uncaring of all else, how wet they are, how red stains you, how Viserys speaks your name. Your babes are are small; they are both far, far too small.

Anguish draws more noises from your throat. It doesn't take long until your voice is hoarse. You cannot keep your peace as you take in their tiny faces. You wipe them with your skirt, finding the silver of their brows and lashes. You also find the gods gave you a girl and a boy. You choke on a sob as you wipe the red away from their thin, white locks, "please wake for your mummy."

The words arrest Viserys. He recalls holding Baelon as life left him. He cherishes now more than ever that at least his boy gazed upon him once. He shares in your misery, yet does not know if how he should approach you; he does not know if he should. He does anyway, no matter how haunting the sound of your wails are.

You quiet momentarily as the man crouches beside you. Your lips wobble, "p-perhaps they'll wake up if you speak High Valyrian."

The thought is gutting.

You gently pull at one babe's eyelid, finding a violet eye looking back at you. Except it isn't looking at you at all and the thought makes you squall. You clutch your children tightly into your chest, rocking them back and forth, "forgive me, my loves. Forgive me for birthing you too soon."

Erryk finally arrives with the maesters. He is stunned in his spot whereas the maesters run to your side. He falls to his knees as lift your children up. They do not touch them, but instead look at each other before muttering something that makes you pull your twins back into your chest.

Your ward is ashamed to face you. He has failed you. Erryk comes to a stand and dares to come near you. You do not notice him. You do not care for anything or anyone else in this moment.

Crimson grief trails behind you as you make your way to the maester's ward. Erryk meant to carry you, but you refused, knowing the walk there would be the last time you'd ever get to hold your children. He silently walks beside you, eyeing your every move.

You freeze when you see your sister by the door. Erryk looks between the two of you, ready to give you space.

Alicent is distraught. Her eyes are nearly as red as yours and you can how her hands tremble even as she picks at them, "sister, I-"

"I wanted to talk to you earlier today."

Her face falls and she immediately runs up to you. She reaches for you but stops herself.

You frown at it, thinking it was because you had been cruel to her, "forgive me, sister."

She rapidly shakes her head, "do not even mention it."

A tear fog your vision, "very well," you sniffle as you lower your gaze, "would... would you like to see them?

She wordlessly agrees.

You step closer to her, "this is Alaeric... and Alyrie."

A hand comes to her mouth, "sister."

"They're perfect, are they not?"

She nods rapidly, "yes—" she shudders, "they are."

You sob with her as she brings her arms around you. Erryk cannot bare the sight. Hot tears run into his armor. Both him and Alicent stay with you as the maester's see to your health. They let you hold Alaeric and Alyrie until your examination commences, and then you confess that if they do not take them now, you will never let them be taken from you ever again.

You were exhausted as you lie in bed. Your body yearned for repose, but you could do nothing of the sort. You groggily stand and walk to your door.

Erryk starts. You caught him in the middle of scratching tears away from his eyes. You frown, "forgive me."

"No, princess," he shakes his head and turns to you, "how might I serve."

You bite your lip, hating yourself for what you were about to request, "I know it is terrible..." you sigh deeply, "I know it is inappropriate, and wrong, and an abuse of my power over you," you tremble, "but please you sleep with me."

"My princess, I-"

"Please," you raise a hand, "if it is too horrible, per- perhaps-" you hiccup, "you can drag the set— the settee beside my bed-"

He silences you by taking your raised hand. You continue to sob as he shakes his head, "I would do anything you ask of me."

You sob and throw your arms around him. Erryk embraces you back, though he was afraid his hard uniform might hurt you.

Otto sees this exchange from across the hall. He had not been moved to tears until this moment. He scratches his eyes before they fall and steels himself away as he walks off. He mentally takes note to observe the Cargyll brothers and to sternly remind them of their vows.

Erryk follows you to your bed. You crawl into your bed as he drags the settee from across the room beside you. You offer him a pillow and he gratefully take it. You knit your brows when he lies down. You sniffle, "will you not take your armor off?"

"I..." he start, about to explain it is inappropriate.

"Is it hard to remove by yourself?" you sit up, "I can help."

"I-" but his words go dry when you begin to undo his steel uniform with much ease.

All your years assisting Gwayne in and out of his armor has made the act come easy for you. You think nothing of it, but Erryk's heart races as you undo his chest plate. He sucks in a sharp breath as you put the metal down, then refuses your help, resigning to undo the rest himself.

You sink into your sheets as you watch your knight lay his armor down. It occurs to you in this moment that this was the first time you'd ever seen him without it. Even through his loose dress shirt, you can see his defined arms and torso. You even see a sliver of a scar from where his shirt opened on his chest and it makes you avert your gaze, knowing you've looked where you should not have.

Your lips begin to wobble as you think of Daemon and the scars he had on his skin. You feel pathetic as you begin to sob again.

Erryk hates the sound. He sits down on the settee and sniffles, "would you like me to sing for you?"

You wipe the snot on your philtrum as you look at him.

"I do not think I inherited her voice, but my mother used to sing to my brother and I when we were younger."

The word mother makes you feel sick, but you do not tell him that, and simply nod.

He clears his throat and takes a breath, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head."

A chuckle is drawn amidst your tears as Erryk continues to sing.

"The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

You ask him to repeat this song over and over and he humors you each time.

The day breaks and Arryk comes to your door for his shift. He holds a basket of flowers and a frown. He knocks on your door and announces himself. He is surprised when he hears footsteps approaching. His eyes widen when Erryk opens the door for him. His mouth falls at the messiness of his hair, then it clicks. Arryk nearly drops his basket as he grabs his twin by the collar, "what in seven hells have you done, you fool?"

Erryk is stoic as he responds, "my duty."

"Your-" he looks over his shoulder and pushes his brother into the room, closing the door behind him. Arryk makes sure to keep the silence and spares you a quick glance. The sight of your sleeping form makes him slightly soften, but he still manages to glare at his brother, "did you sleep here?"

Erryk turns to you, "she asked-"

"Did you sleep with her?" Arryk snaps.

The twins glare at each other. Erryk's face contorts in disgust, "I slept on the settee, brother. What do you take me fo-"

"I take you for a fool!" Arryk quips under his breath as he points an accusing finger.

Erryk scoffs, clenching his fist, "and you would have left?"

"I would have waited for her to sleep and resumed my post outsi-"

"Please."

The twins turn, finding you sitting on your bed, rubbing your puffy face. They both instinctively step forward and speak in unison, "princess."

"Please," you repeat, "I asked him to stay."

Arryk turns to Erryk.

"I do not want you to argue because-" you cannot continue because you begin to cry.

Both their faces fall, but Erryk wastes no time in coming to you. He kneels beside your bed and takes your hand, repeating the song he sang to you last night.

Arryk immediately recognizes the tune. His heart tightens as he watches the display. He mutters under his breath, "what have you done?" He walks over to him and watches the way you squeeze his brother's hand. He thinks of how you did the same for him just yesterday and clenches the basket's handle tightly. He begins to sing with his twin.

"The fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head.

The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

These are the very words you sing to your sister's son.

Alicent was with child again, and you were giving her a much needed reprieve from her energetic boy who was now nearing his second name day. Aegon happily reached for flowers as you carried him through the gardens. He laughs with not a care in the world. It is strange how deeply happy and deeply sad the boy makes you feel.

Through it all, you smile as you sing. You bounce him in your hip once you finish, "right, shall we go back now?"

Aegon blissfully ignores you when his hand brushes against a flower. You pull him away before he can grab it, and push his hand down, "no, my love, we do not pick roses so carelessly."

Aegon cares little for your words and raises his hand again, "flower!"

You push his hand down and look at him, "you want the rose?" You adjust him in your arm, "you want to pick the rose for mummy?"

"Mummy?" Aegon repeats, turning to you to reach for your brown curls.

You chuckle when he tries to eat it and pull your hair away before he manages to, "silly boy. Shall we ask Ser Arryk to pick the flower for us?"

"Flower for mummy!" he bounces in your arms.

You bounce him back, making him giggle as you repeat, "flower for mummy!" You flip your hair back, "Ser Arryk, could you-"

Your mouth goes dry when you see Daemon staring back at you.

[fast-burn]

sloppy seconds, landoscar + mark webber or tbh whoever

yeah i'm Down To Clown with mark webber being in this!!

kink list here

XXX

"No way," Lando blurts when he shoves his hand down the back of Oscar's shorts and finds him already hot, wet, and open. "Did you start without me?"

"Something like that," Oscar demurs, eyes flicking down and away. Lando wonders, not for the first time, what the fuck is up with his long, light brown eyelashes. Every time he looks at them fluttering against the thin, lilac skin below Oscar's eyes, it's like mental. He has girl eyelashes, honest.

"Couldn't wait, huh?" Asks Lando because he really can't stop to ponder how pretty Oscar is when he's got his middle two fingers hooked right into Oscar's bum.

Oscar kisses him instead of answering, which is alright actually. Lando likes making out more than actual sex sometimes. When you're kissing someone they usually hold you close, all snuggly, so it's double the niceness. Lando licks Oscar's tongue and behind his teeth, and uses his hand snagged in Oscar's arse to pull their groins flush together. It's absolutely mint. Lando could stay like this forever, except he does kind of want to get off. His cock is throbbing in his sweatpants, eager up against the solid line of Oscar's erection.

Lando wiggles his fingers inside Oscar, sort of digging around in there. He's really wet. It's some weird kind of lube, a different texture than Oscar's usual. Lando breaks their kiss and pulls his fingers out, curious.

It's definitely not lube.

"Osc, what is this?" Lando blurts, but it's pretty obvious that it's jizz.

Decently fresh jizz.

"You said it was okay," Oscar says, voice going really quiet, hackles up. Lando hates when he does that. It took forever to get Oscar to relax and be a weirdo around him.

"Yeah, of course it's okay. But I thought we'd maybe talk about it first."

Truth is that Lando wanted to know what kind of blokes Oscar would go for if it was truly open season. There was some competitive part of him that wanted Oscar to go looking for someone supplemental but still come crawling back to Lando, because Lando was the best. He figured Oscar would be into other shy little nerds.

"It came out of the blue, that's all," says Oscar, starting to try and wiggle out of there, so Lando tightens his arm around Oscar's shoulders. "Wasn't much time to run it by you."

"So who was it?"

Oscar goes very still. He looks away again. He mutters something.

"Say again?" Lando asks.

"It was Mark," Oscar confesses, barely above a church mouse whisper.

"Webber?" Lando blurts, makes it sound like Wibbah by accident because he's a cunt and can't help himself.

"Sorry," Oscar mumbles, and Lando kisses him because he can hear the shame, the regret. He never wants Oscar to feel bad about anything unless it's because he came second in the WDC to Lando.

And Lando is kind of upset, but not because Webber is way too old, or because he's Oscar's mentor, or because Webber is not even that hot. Lando's pissed because--technically--Mark is better than Lando. On a purely win-based statistic. So there's only one solution: fuck Webber's come out of Oscar.

"Don't be sorry. It's so hot," Lando lies, because ew he doesn't really want to think about Webber's wrinkly old dick. He's like married. And retired. Gross.

Oscar starts to melt back into Lando's arms. "Yeah? You don't mind?"

"Not if you don't mind me taking my sloppy seconds," Lando says, unbuttoning Oscar's shorts and pushing them down his thighs.

"You're such a perv," Oscar says, wrinkling his cute fucking nose, but Lando can tell that he's not seriously complaining, because he follows up with: "Don't worry about prepping me, mate. You can just slide right in."

Oscar bends over the end of Lando's hotel bed eagerly. He's actually the perfect height for Lando, which is crazy Cinderella's-slipper shit, even if the position is kind of hell on his back and he'll have to slip out of Oscar later to do physio stuff on the floor. Oscar's hole does look used. It's hot pink and swollen. Lando feels another spike of irritation looking at it, so he puckers his lips and spits on it. Oscar shivers.

He's right, though. No prep necessary. Lando thrusts in with hardly any trouble, and Oscar moans, then grunts like Lando heard him once on the massage table, all guttural and loud. Webber's jizz makes a creamy streak up the shaft of Lando's cock when he pulls out. Bad manners, isn't it? To neglect a condom when fucking someone else's man.

Or is Lando fucking Webber's man? Technically Webber had Oscar first, but not like this, Lando is pretty sure. Maybe Webber fucked Oscar because he's jealous that Lando got inside him. Maybe he was all pissed-off because Lando planted his flag in Oscar's hole and took his gay-virginity.

Well, tough shit. Lando is going to be a champion and Webber has one foot in the grave, practically. Lando is going to fuck Oscar just right.

"That feel good?" Lando asks, barely stopping himself from adding baby on the end. They don't do pet-names. That would be a slippery slope for sure.

"Uh-huh," Oscar says. "Feels like you. So good--the best."

Lando might as well be ten feet tall. He's glowing like those big tree-things in Singapore, lit up from the inside and all the way up. Webber's come is smearing around Oscar's hole, Webber is the one who made him all loose, but he's not the one making Oscar groan and whimper now. He's not the one making Oscar say Gonna come Lando, please, please, you're making me come, oh-- Because Lando is the best. Get absolutely wasted, you geriatric old prick.

[mattsnight]

Matt loves to please his girl ! ✧₊⁺

— Warnings: smut, oral (female!receiving), cursing, use of y/n, edging… 18++

“mmh feels so good.” You say, letting out a pathetic whine. Your boyfriends fingers are pressed firmly against your clit while his lips are leaving sloppy kisses all over your thighs. Yeah, he was a real pleaser when it comes to his girl. “You like my hands and lips all on you, huh?” He says, his voice a little raspy. All you can do is nod.

His fingers get replaced with his tongue, making it swirl laps around your sensitive clit. Then, he pushes two fingers deep inside of you. Another pathetic noise leaves your mouth. You reach to hold onto something, but your hand ends up buried in his hair, holding on for dear life as he eats you out.

After a really short while he pulls out, leaving you breathless and unsatisfied. “W-what are you—” you get cut off by him practically ripping off his belt, throwing it to the floor. “m’sorry, doll, gotta finish inside of you this time.” He pulls out his dick before lining it up at your entrance, making sure you’re comfortable with his actions first before slowly pushing in. “Keep breathin’, pretty..” he reminds you as his fingers trail slow circles on your belly. “Just like thaatt.. takin’ me so well.”

Your worries of people hearing you suddenly leave your body as waves of pleasure wash over you. “matt… matt… oh my god!” You cry out. “Oh shit.. fuck.” He groans out as he feels you clench around him, letting him get dangerously close to the edge. It doesn’t take long for him to also reach his peak. The room is filled with all kinds of noises as he slaps into you once more, his release running down your thighs.

“That was fuckin’ amazing.”

[laswells-ashtray]

What if Sergeant Price was originally a weapon before he met Mac and Kate? I feel like it’d be a lot similar to how Price met Nik: a violent man turned informant.

I also think he reverts back to his old self sometimes, most likely in high stress situations or if someone crosses a boundary.

Anyhow, this is just food for thought. Love ya pooks!👋🏻

Firstly, being called pooks made my day. Love that. Secondly, for that reason, I shall be answering this before I close my puter and make shortbread. After getting to the end of writing this little tidbit I gotta say, one of the best asks I've ever received. It came to me like I was spitting the prophecy, it was such an easy write.

Ghost notices, he picks up on John's posture and demeanour when their mission gets fucked. Their intel was off and Ghost won't be surprised if they leave with a fatality amongst the group. But he sees John go from Captain who they were joking over comms with to John fucking Wick in a matter of seconds. They're violent people, the job calls for it but John is lethal. He pulls a man off of Gaz and snaps his neck when the cunt won't stop struggling, he doesn't blink when they look at him wide-eyed. He just moves on and plunges a knife into someone else.

Ghost watches him take a punch before he shoves a man's open mouth over the edge of a table and slams his boot into the back of his head, they all hear the crack of his jaw and Soap puts a bullet between the poor sod's eyes to put him out of his misery.

The way John moves is instinctual, it's like he's stuck in fight or flight only John has never been one to flee. Someone tries to attack him from behind with a crowbar while he's prying open a door and John beats the man with it until one of his eyes starts to gouge out of the socket. He's covered in blood, known of it his own and he doesn't seem to be aware of it. Or entirely present and that's what sets them all on edge, he's relying on some kind of instinct or past training.

And then suddenly it's over, the bodies stop coming and they're back at exfil waiting for Nik to arrive. The Russian isn't supposed to be there, no one comments on it. They'd all rather it be Nik than some wanker that none of them know as the adrenaline stops thrumming in their veins. John responds to Laswell over comms but he's detached, they can all see it and from the worry in Kate's tone, she can hear it.

When Nikolai, the glorious bastard, arrives with his precious heli he doesn't tell them to jump in like he'd usually do. He takes one look at John before getting out and approaching him like one approaches a stray cat. He doesn't wrap an arm around the captain like he usually would, and no friendly greetings with some muttered Russian pet name tacked on at the end. He makes a point of standing an arm's length in front of the captain, easy to step back out of reach if he needs to do so quickly.

"John?"

John stares right through him, eyes blank and scarily lifeless as looks at Nikolai. Simon nods off the sergeants and watches them park their arses in the heli, not without sending their captain varying looks of worry. Nikolai offers him a thankful look over John's shoulder and Simon offers him a nod but stays put.

It's John, he knows John and he trusts John with his life but the same man he trusts with his life is currently drenched in blood and seemingly unaware of where he is. He isn't leaving Nikolai to handle him alone even if he knows the Russian is as strong as he is.

"Captain, do you want Kate to call MacMillan?"

Simon narrows his eyes at the pilot, watching him curiously. He knows who John's old captain is, he's met the man before. Wicked funny and sharp as a knife.

The name seems to trigger something in John, he tilts his head looking at Nik with far more clarity than he'd had a moment ago.

"Wha- No, 'm fine."

Even John sounds unsure but there's a familiarity on his face as he looks at Nikolai that hadn't been present before. Nikolai looks relieved, his shoulders falling as some of the tension leaves him.

"You should call him later."

It isn't a suggestion, it's an instruction. One John doesn't seem to argue with as he glances down at himself, taking in his current state.

Nikolai glances at him over John's shoulder and Simon takes the hint to drag his arse back to the heli. They need a second, one he isn't supposed to be present for. He doesn't judge as he silently slips away, ignoring how John all but falls against the Russian's front.

[httpsdana]

Balde fic where hes normally super smooth and confident but the reader has him all nervous and stuttering for the first time ever and his friends are teasing him for it 👀

Unscripted~Alejandro Balde

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: I LOVED writing this so much!!

Balde was known for his charm and confidence between his teammates, especially when it comes to the topic of girls. However, when he met y/n, it was as if all his confidence vanished in seconds.

y/n was the best friend of Berta, Fermin’s girlfriend, and while she and Alejandro only exchanged a few polite words at one of the matches she had attended with Berta, something about her lingered in his mind.

Maybe it was her beauty, or kindness, maybe even confidence. He couldn’t exactly point out what it was, but ever since their first encounter, Alejandro found himself bringing her up to conversations more than he would like to admit.

And of course, his friends noticed.

“I swear she’s all you ever talk about,” Gavi once said, as the group of them were sitting at Pedri’s apartment, enjoying a chill evening.

“That’s not true,” Alejandro scoffed, knowing damn well he was lying.

“Yes you do” Lamine joined him, smirking as he gave Pedri a wink. “Last week you asked Fermin if she was single four times. In one conversation,”

Alejandro groaned before speaking again. “I didn’t–”

“You did,” Fermin interrupted with a smile. “Don’t worry though. It’s cute to see ‘Mr smooth with the ladies’ being shy about his crush”

“Leave him alone,” Pedri added with a teasing smile.

“It’s fun watching him malfunction for once,” Ansu said, making the others laugh.

“I’m not malfunctioning! You guys are annoying” Alejandro shot back, glaring at his friends

“All I’m saying is that if she’s going to be at the barbeque, we’re gonna need some popcorn for the show,” Gavi said, leaning back on the couch with a smirk.

“Please y/n. Fermin’s friends are pure chaos, and I need you to be here with me. Plus Balde is gonna be here” Berta’s teasing voice said through the phone , making y/n roll her eyes.

“I’ll come, but only because I know you can’t handle any set ups on your own” she said, making Berta hum in sarcasm

“Mhm sure” she teased making y/n chuckle

“Shut up. I have to go now” y/n said before hanging up.

“Hey guys?” Fermin said, approaching his group of friends. “Berta said that y/n is gonna be with us at the barbeque” 

Gavi let out a whistle as Pedri laughed, watching how Alejandro nearly dropped his bottle, the plastic container slipping from his hands and spilling on his shorts.

“Joder” Balde mumbled, furiously patting the wet spot on his shorts (fuck)

“Oh man he’s already losing it” Lamine burst into laughter

“Relax, Romeo,” Ansu said, smirking. “You’re gonna be fine, just don't faint when she talks to you”

“I hate you all” Alejandro said, throwing his water bottle away and going to the other part of the team, the ones who didn't know about his secret crush

By the time the boys arrived at Fermin's house, Berta and y/n had already set up everything in the backyard. Balde spotted her from the door, watching how she laughed at something Berta had said.

“She’s right there” Pedri whispered in his ear, nudging his shoulder

“I have eyes” He hissed, making Gavi chuckle from behind them.

“So go say hi to her,” Lamine urged, grinning like a kid who's just been given candy

“yeah let's see that famous Balde charm you've been bragging about in action”Ansu teased, making the group laugh once again

“I haven't been bragging–”

“Oh please,” Pedri interrupted, “I've lost count of the times you've said ‘i don't get nervous around girls’,”

Alejandro groaned, shoving his sweaty hands in his pockets

“can you guys just…stop?”

“Oh not a chance,” Fermin grinned. “you’re gonna go talk to her”

“I’m not doing it right now,” He shook his head, making Gavi snicker from behind.

“This is gonna be an interesting night,” Gavi said, rubbing his hands against each other as if getting ready for some action.

Throughout the evening, Alejandro tried his best to act normal, but it was impossible with her being so close to him.

She seemed to float through the party in her sundress so effortlessly, helping Berta out with last-minute details and chatting with everyone.

Everytime she looked his way, his heart rate skyrocketed, and he looked away immediately.

“you've been awfully quiet tonight,” y/n said with a curious smile, walking up to him as he stood awkwardly by the grill 

“I'm fine!,”he said way too quickly, his voice cracking slightly

She raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident.

“you sure about that?”

Before he could respond, Lamine appeared beside him, grinning from ear to ear 

“He's fine. just distracted by a very specific person”

Alejandro groaned, running a hand over his face.

“Lamine stop,”

“What?” Lamine grinned, “I’m just trying to help you”

“By embarrassing me?” Alejandro muttered under his breath

y/n tilted her head, clearly entertained by the exchange, “you guys are fun” she said with a soft laugh.

“Fun is one word for it” He said, shooting a glare at Lamine as he walked away, chuckling.

And as the night went on, the teasing only got worse. 

“He hasn’t tripped over his feet yet,” Pedri said, watching as Alejandro nervously handed her a plate of food before starting to make his way to them

“Give it time,” Ansu added, barely holding back a laugh.

“He’s definitely going to mess up soon,” Lamine chimed in, grinning.

“Can you all stop?” Alejandro hissed, his ears burning red.

From across the yard, Berta caught y/n's eye and gave her a knowing look. She blushed slightly, biting her lip.

Berta leaned closer and whispered something to Fermin, who burst into laughter.

“She knows,” Fermin said, nudging Alejandro. “You’re doomed, bro.”

“shit”

As the night started to wind down, y/n found Alejandro leaning against the fence, staring out at the backyard with a faraway look in his eyes.

“Hey” she said softly, walking up to him.

He jumped slightly, turning to face her with wide eyes. “oh, uh, hi”

“So you're gonna tell me what got you in the mood tonight?” she teased, a small smile playing on her lips.

“yeah…uh just tired, I guess” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

She laughed softly, before speaking again. “you're a terrible liar”

He let out a nervous chuckle, shrugging. “maybe”

“Well,” she said, stepping closer to him. “we should hang out soon. you know, just us”

Alejandro blinked, clearly caught off guard. “really?” he started, watching how she raised her eyebrows in amusement.

“I mean…yeah that'd be great. I'd like that”

She smiled at his shy state, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“Good night Ale”

Before he could recover, she turned and walked away, leaving him frozen in place.

From across the yard, Gavi let out a loud whistle. “She made the move, and he’s still standing there like a statue!”

“He’s broken,” Pedri added, doubling over with laughter.

“I think she likes you, mate,” Fermin teased.

Alejandro groaned, burying his face in his hands. But even with all the teasing, he couldn’t stop smiling.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaa (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Soulmate AU I 2k I Rated Mature I idiot4idiot

The thing about linking with your soulmate, you never knew when it was going to happen. There were horror stories about it happening during weddings to someone else or while performing heart surgery or landing a plane, but linking was so rare, stories like that seemed more like fairy tales than cautionary ones.

If anyone had asked Eddie what he thought about it, he would've said the odds of there being some guy out there destined to be his mate, let alone that he'd have to worry about linking during some critical moment, were astronomically low.

He'd be wrong.

Because his ears are ringing, his vision has tunnelled, and there's an empty vacuum where his usual chaotic thoughts should be. All signs pointing toward-

Hello?

Jesus H. Christ, not now! Not right now, this cannot be happening now. Quick! Think of something else! Uhhh… Golems! Ice golems! Or maybe frost giants. Yeah! Not having hate sex with your arch nemesis. Shit! Stop thinking about it! Frost giants, frost giants, frost giants!

Hate sex? He hears echo around his noggin next. Arch nemesis?

Fuuuuuck. No, darlin’, don't even worry about that stray thought! Nothing to see here. I'm, uh, baking! Yeah. Brownies. For a charity bake sale

A long pause, empty space between them, before he says, I don't believe you. I think you are having sex

Sex?! He screeches. How dare you! I would never!

You would. Go balls deep into a guy you don't even like, sounds like to me. Class act.

Oh god, there’s gotta be a way to salvage this.

No, let me explain, please!

Knock yourself out

Right. So, this guy, I know him from school, right? And he was always kind of a jerk. The space between them pings with a sort of stung feeling but Eddie doesn't understand how any of this works yet so he ignores it. But we end up having a few mutual friends, and this one really weird event happens that forces us to, like, team up, I guess. After all that I'm spending more time around the guy and he's not so bad. Invited me over to smoke up with him, which was cool. I'm gonna be totally honest, I'm not sure how exactly we got here, the sex part, but it’s pretty hot and heavy, kinda aggressive, so… yeah. Hate sex I guess

Soulmate is quiet again. His feelings bleed through anyway, at least Eddie's pretty sure that's what he's getting. It feels like embarrassment and disappointment.

You okay? Did I scare you off?

You don't like the guy at all? You said arch nemesis

Oh. Uh. Well… How did he explain to his future partner, if he hadn't already ruined it, that he likes him plenty, he's just been holding him at arms length, metaphorically, because he assumed the guy was straight? Up until roughly twenty minutes ago. He should probably start with honesty.

No, I like him okay. He's not as bad as I'd always thought. We give each other shit but I'm pretty sure it's just left over bullshit stereotypes from high school. I bully him about his music taste, he bullies me about my shitty van. That type of thing

…Right

He waits to hear back from his soulmate but he's not very talkative. That's okay, Eddie can talk enough for both of them.

So, what were you up to when we linked? Not driving I hope

He can hear the guy sighing over the link, which is worrying.

You'll never believe it, but I'm also having sex at the moment

Seriously? That's hilarious

Yeah. A hoot

Not having fun?

I was. But I recently found out the guy doesn't like me that much. So, yeah, real mood killer

Oh man. That sucks

Oh my god. Yeah, it really does. Kinda wish he'd get off of me so we can get the awkward part over with but he's distracted at the moment

Doing what?! Eddie yells, offended on his behalf.

“He’s busy not realizing he linked to the guy he was hate fucking.”

Huh?

“Eddie, open your fucking eyes.”

That's Steve talking.

He blinks his eyes open to see Steve looking up at him. He's not pleased.

Wait

“Yeah.”

Oh my god

“As impressive as it is that you managed to stay hard through that whole thing, I'd appreciate it if you-” He hisses as Eddie, rudely he realizes, pulls out without warning.

He scrambles to the end of the bed, bunching up the comforter around his junk. “I'm so sorry, fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry. I don't… I didn't…”

He can't fix this, he starts to slowly comprehend. He's made Steve think he hates him.

“Nah, it's cool. I get it.”

I don't hate you, I swear. You have to believe me

“Sure, Eddie.” He's yanking his briefs back on, angry and trying not to show it. “You just don't like me much.” Can't believe I did this again. So fucking stupid

Eddie's certain he's not meant to hear any of that but he responds anyway.

You're not stupid. Please let me explain

“You already did. And I am fucking stupid,” he snaps. “Here I thought we were flirting this whole time and you thought we were bullying each other. That's real fuckin’ stupid of me. I'd convinced myself you actually-” He snaps his teeth shut but Eddie can still hear the unfinished -liked me. “I really wish you would control your feelings, dude. You're broadcasting your horror straight into my head.”

“I don't know how to stop,” he quietly admits.

“Well if you'd ever shown up to health class you'd know how to control it.”

I never thought I would get a soulmate

Steve's surprise at that pings around his brain before he does what Eddie can't and shuts it down.

“I did. I've been thinking about it for years.”

And you ended up with me… And I ruined it before we even got started. I ruined it. Steve Harrington is my soulmate and I ruined it. What the fuck

“You don't have to say it like I'm some kind of prize.” He steps into his jeans and tugs them back up to his hips, not even bothering to do them up. Which is- “I guess it's nice that you think I'm hot. That's something. Maybe we'll be the first casual hookup soulmates.”

He has to fix this. Somehow. Think, god damnit! Wait! That's it! He just has to show Steve what he's thinking!

“I wish you wouldn't.”

“Too bad!” He snaps back.

Okay, as embarrassing as this is about to be, he has to tell the truth.

Eddie was in the 8th grade, Steve in 7th, when they first met. Or, when Eddie first noticed Steve anyway, they never really spoke to each other, their cliques already established by then. But Eddie can remember it like it was yesterday. It was lunch, Eddie was walking by with his bagged PB&J, when he heard it. Steve laughing. It was so joyful, Eddie didn't even know what he was laughing about but it made him smile anyway. Of course one of Steve's shitty jock friends caught him staring and called him a queer freak but that wasn't unusual.

“What the fuck, Eddie? Why do you remember that? And how are you so good at visualizing?”

He ignores the questions to move on to the next memory. Eddie's sophomore year they somehow ended up in the same Shop class. Again, they never spoke but he got to watch Steve work, tongue poking out while he concentrated, the proud look on his face when he whittled some hunk of wood into a recognisable shape.

“I forgot about that. It was a dolphin. I was dating Chelsea Hosteller, they were her favorite animal.”

“Lucky her.”

“Hey, fuck you, man, you're the one showing me this shit! What am I supposed to assume from any of this? You thought I was cute? So what? You clearly don't like who I am as a person, so what difference does it make?”

He's not going to have the patience for every single moment, and they're a lot of them, Eddie realizes that now. So he speed runs through them, making sure to send every bit of feeling through their link.

Steve in his Scoops outfit, luring Eddie to the mall but never making him brave enough to go in. The horror of not knowing whether Steve was alive or dead when he heard about the mall burning down. The joy of finding him at Family Video, somewhere he had reason to visit.

You never even talked to me there

Listening to every word to every story Henderson told him about Steve and his bravery. Pretending to be annoyed so no one noticed he was eating it up. Getting to know the real Steve over Spring Break, the giddiness he couldn't quite tamp down, even as he was scared shitless. The pain of knowing Steve was still in love with Nancy Wheeler, even though it was the obvious narrative to Steve's fairytale life. Of course he gets the girl at the end.

What? Is that why you-

The way he stuck around afterward, even though their dynamic was more antagonistic than friendly, and the way Eddie thrived off of every snarky comment. How it felt like banter even though Eddie knew, by all logic and reason, Steve was merely tolerating his presence. They would always be antithetical to each other, circling but never meeting.

Eddie, no

Steve growling ‘Do you ever shut up!’ before pouncing on him downstairs. The heavy pounding of his heart as he wrestled Steve up the stairs. The way his brain never did catch up to what was happening or why, until it was too late, and he was ruining both the greatest sex he'd ever had and also the chance to prove, though he's still completely unworthy, that he has already been primed and ready to fall for Steve for years. The shame of ruining it. The heartbreak of ruining it. The teeny, tiny spark of hope as Steve stares him down. He has to close his eyes to avoid it, lest he say something stupid and fuck it up again.

You…do like me?

Yeah, Stevie. I like you a whole lot. I just didn't think I was allowed to like you. I didn't realize you liked me too. I'm sorry I said all that shit earlier. I didn't want to tell the guy I'd just linked with that I was thoroughly enjoying the chance to sleep with this guy I'd had a crush on for years. That seemed rude

The bed dips and so does Eddie's stomach. Steve's enormous hands slide up his neck, into his hair, and gently cradle his face as he leans in to kiss Eddie square on the mouth.

Oh. Hi

Hi

This is nice

I think so too. How do you feel about finishing what we started but this time we both know that we like each other?

That sounds awesome. But are you sure? I really, really fucked up the first time

I thought you were perfect up until you called me your arch nemesis

I have been told that sometimes I'm a little dramatic

You know what, that's fair. I really should've taken that as a compliment, if anything

See? Now you get it

What I'm getting is another condom. Hold my ankle so I don't slide off the bed

You got it, baby

Unbelievable. Salvaged the wreckage of his own stupidity and managed to bag the hottest guy in town! Score one for the nerds!

“I heard that.”

[wolfstarlibrarian]

As the Wolfstar Librarian I'm kind of shocked I haven't made this a list yet! And I just finished reading this cute book during the holidays so enjoy a late holiday rec!

Bookstore Wolfstar Fics

Collateral by fingerprintbruises The fic where Sirius flees from the paparazzi, Remus runs a bookstore, and Lily has great timing.

You've Got Love by @cruisinwritealong Remus connects with an enigmatic stranger online, runs an amazing bookstore, and has his life flipped upside down when a Potter Brothers Books megastore opens up just a few blocks away. To makes things even worse the owner of the megastore is charming, funny, and hot as hell. Based on the movie You've Got Mail

Wholly Civilised (orphaned account)

When Remus Lupin is mugged in an alley, the last thing he expects is to invite the mugger to his flat and offer him food and a job. But that's exactly what he does. What he learns about Sirius Black after that, turns his entire world upside down.

The Quiet War by CF_Casper "Let's use love like a knife try to cut through the surface Love can break through the ice when you're fighting a different kind of war” (Sirius and Lily are in a gang. James and Remus run a book shop. Everyone falls in love.)

The Certainty of You by uponavenueroad Sirius is a Hollywood actor who has not been entirely forthcoming about his identity to an undeniably charming, befuddled antique book seller from Notting Hill. The truth comes to a head the morning after a steamy one-night stand. A movie-star AU that’s loosely inspired by the classic romcom 'Notting Hill'.

A Likely Story (orphaned account Sirius Black is a famous Youtuber who can't help but keep coming back to the cozy bookstore, "A Likely Story". He quickly finds himself falling for the cute bookworm, Remus Lupin. This story won't be too long and is for all the softies that just need some fluff.

A Novel Idea by @haywirecompass Sirius writes horror, with the occasional help of his two best friends, who are raising a child and therefore worry him sometimes with the ideas they come up with. He loves reading just as much as he loves writing, so the new bookshop down the road seems like to perfect place to go to load his bookshelves to breaking point. Then he meets the owner, who is somehow adorable and hot at the same time, and everything goes a bit pear-shaped.

The Cafe Upstairs by @cottonpadenthusiast Remus Lupin can sum himself up in two words; book nerd. He can also sum up Sirius Black in three; hottest guy ever. Moreover, he can sum up the likelihood of a relationship between them in one; impossible.

Fine Motor Skills by @femme--de--lettres Sirius Black's car needs work—again. Meanwhile, Remus Lupin is amused to see his favorite customer back at his mechanic's shop.

the inconveniences in our favour by @magicbeings This is a story about a graffiti-covered wall, a boy unhealthily obsessed with it, and a man who really only wanted his dream of owning a peaceful bookshop not to be ruined by a stubborn artist. Sometimes, the most frustrating inconveniences turn out to really work in your favour.

A Very Bad, Terrible, No Good Day by @solar3cl1ip5e On the worst day of his life, Remus wakes up with a cold, without power, and no tissues. He also rear-ends the most attractive man he's ever seen.

Cupid Disarmed by Anonymous Remus Lupin has Veela blood, Sirius Black reads trite romance novels, and neither of them are quite sure what the fuck to do with their hands when they get to talking with one another.

You Burn Brighter than the Stars by The_wolf_the_rat_the_dog_and_the_stag Remus meets Sirius at the university bookstore where he works and falls instantly in love.

BOOK REC:

Looking for a book similar to these fics? With characters that are so lovable? Check out this book that features a queer bookstore owner and a romance novelist!

Look Up, Handsome by Jack Strange

[themostlesbianever]

College AU Sevika x reader

A/N: I am genuinely so sorry for having y'all wait for so long😔 I was busy with Christmas prep and then Christmas.

I will be trying to post more frequently but im not promising anything.

Thanks for all the support so far🙏🙏 Enjoy!

(This is semi-proofread, its nearly 3 am and im tired, but i wanted to give you the next chapter)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks have passed and you’re settling into the college routine nicely, struggling here and there but still, nicely. You and Sevika have been getting closer as well, you would even go so far as to call her a friend. You don’t see her all the time because she’s busy with schoolwork, friends and extracurriculars. Just like you. After a day or 2 you had found out she plays rugby which was understandable with the way she was built. She also frequents the campus gym, lifting impressive amounts of weight while making it look easy.

You’re sitting on your bed reviewing some sheet music, you had always been a bit of a band kid, trying out a bunch of instruments before finally settling on the trumpet. You signed up for band at college and managed to get in. Together with, obviously, Ekko, who plays the drums. Sevika is also sitting on her bed but she’s on her phone. You glance over at her, it looks like she's texting someone.

Then the corner of her mouth lifts up slightly. “What are you smiling at?” you ask, the sudden noise makes her smile drop and her gaze move over to you. “Nothing” she replies, clearly lying. You raise one brow at her and tilt your head slightly, making her rethink her answer.

“Okay fine, so there's this girl an-”. She stops talking when she sees your facial expression change from interested to surprised. “You like women?” you question, and now it's her turn to look surprised. “Was that” she pauses for a second. “Was that not obvious?” she asks, a hint of confusion in her voice.

You simply blink at her and shrug your shoulders. You tell her to continue and she lets out a small chuckle before doing just that. “Well this girl, Rose, slid into my dm’s complimenting one of my photo dumps and we started talking. And now we're kind of flirting, I guess.” A small smile starts to creep onto her lips as she speaks.

“And she’s like, SO pretty oh my god” she continues. “Does she go here?” you ask and she nods. “Anyways” she mumbles, trying to shift the attention off of herself and onto you. You’ve noticed she does that a lot, she doesn’t like talking about herself and is quite closed off. She has been opening up a tiny bit to you as you’ve gotten to know each other. A little fun fact here, a random memory there. It’s been nice.

“What have you been staring at for the past like, hour?” she asks and you sigh before speaking. “It’s the new music we got for band. It's incredibly annoying to play and I have to memorize it.” She furrows her brows a bit. "Wait." She pauses and looks at you, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re a band kid?” You can’t help but be slightly offended.

“Why do you say that like it's a bad thing? I’ll have you know, I'm very cool” You say while pointing your index finger at her. “Oh I believe that, don’t worry.” She chuckles. “What instrument do you play?” You proudly tell her you play the trumpet which she admits is quite impressive.

She then gets up from her bed, walking over to you and grabbing the music sheets from your hand. Her eyes scan the paper, the more she reads the more her brows furrow, after about a full minute of her looking at the sheets in silence, she looks up at you and speaks. “what the fuck.” You laugh at that.

“Exactly what I’m thinking” you say. “How do you read that shit, seriously?” She asks and gives the pieces of paper back to you. “Oh I've been playing for years, I started with lessons. At first I was actually learning, I learned all the grips and notes, how to hold it correctly, bla bla bla. But then it became learning and memorizing random songs I didn’t care about. So I quit. Just the lessons tho, I never stopped playing.” You explain.

She listens intently, nodding along as you ramble on about your many teachers, performances, friends you had made along your musical journey and how you had begged your mum for your very own trumpet. Quitting lessons also meant having to give back the trumpet they had given to you. Well, not really given, your mum had to pay a monthly fee for lessons and said trumpet.

After a little while you realise you’ve been rambling and apologise. “Oh I’m sorry, I talk a lot” you say quietly. The room suddenly feels very warm, your face heating up in embarrassment. “You’re fine dude” Sevika says. “It’s very entertaining, so don’t worry. You can talk however much you like.” She offers you a soft smile. You smile back and thank her.

Somewhere during your ramble she sat back down on her own bed and leaned back against the wall. She still sits there unmoving, just looking at you in silence, it’s a comfortable silence that the both of you sit in for a bit before you remember you should really be studying this music and look back down at the sheets.

After a while of reviewing your sheets, practicing changing the grips by pretending you’re playing and counting how long you have to be silent for before you have to start playing again, you have had enough. You inhale deeply and breathe it out in the form of a sigh. Sevika looks up at you, a questioning look in her eyes. You hold the sheets up and she chuckles.

You hop off your bed and pull out a binder from one of the bed drawers, placing the music sheets neatly where they belong before closing it and putting it back inside the drawer. Then Sevika speaks. “You said you own a trumpet, did you take it with you for band? Or do you get one from the school”. You turn back around and rest your hips against the wooden frame of your bed, facing Sevika who is still sitting on hers.

“I think there's an option to rent an instrument from the school but I took my own with me, I just prefer it over a random trumpet. Not that they’d be super different from each other but you know. Plus it was possible they wouldn’t even have one for me.” You answered. She simply nods before asking to see your trumpet.

You agree and walk over to your closet, where you store your trumpet, and take it out. You put the storage case on your bed and unclasp it, opening the lid and stepping aside so Sevika can see. She gets off her bed and steps over to the open case. She reaches one of her hands out, glancing over at you as if to ask for permission to touch it. You nod and she runs her fingers over the cold instrument.

“It’s quite pretty” she says and you let out a small huff of air that could be considered a laugh. “It’s really not Sevika. It’s old and it's not as clean as it used to be” you admit and she shrugs. “I think it's pretty.” You’re about to tell her your old trumpet really isn’t that special when you hear a knock at the door.

Sevika walks over and opens the door slightly to see who’s knocking, she opens it all the way when she sees its Ekko. He steps inside. “Dude, do you ever read your texts?” he questions. You shoot him a confused look, he sighs. “Sorry dude, I was reviewing the new music. You are aware we’re supposed to start memorizing it. right?” you ask him, genuinely wondering if he had listened to the given instructions.

“Of course I’m aware” he says while rolling his eyes at you. “Anyway I wanted to ask if you wanted to get lunch. But you weren’t replying so I decided to come over before our possible lunch plans turned into dinner plans” he says, then he looks at you with a disappointed look on his face. “I thought of that amazing joke and I don’t even get a smile? Rude”

“It really wasn’t that funny” you tell him and he rolls his eyes again. Then he looks at Sevika, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Don’t bring me into this.” She says and throws her hands up in the air.

“Fine, but do you wanna get lunch or not?” He asks, looking back at you again. You nod before turning to Sevika. “You wanna come with us” you ask. “Sure why not,” she shrugs. You close the trumpet case and put it back in your closet. “Lets go then.”

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