#they’re hitting every fucking camp!!!!

[palms-upturned]

Nov 2nd, 13:15 GMT

We’re getting reports from the civil emergency officials in Gaza that an Israeli air strike on Bureij refugee camp has killed at least 15 people.

We’ll bring you more on that shortly.

Nov 2nd, 13:19 GMT

We can now bring you survivor accounts from the Israeli attack on Bureij refugee camp that we just reported on.

From what we know so far, at least 15 people have been killed in the air strike.

Here is what one of the survivors told Al Jazeera:

“My family and I were sitting and all of a sudden we heard a huge explosive. Every thing was flying around us .We couldn’t see anything but dust and smoke. It was massive, the whole area is turned upside down.. all in a second.

“That was my home [pointing to rubble], now it is totally in ruins. I do not know what to say. We are helpless.”

[justaz]

lol arthur realizes with the other knights after watching merlin flirt and being hit with a wave of deja vu: holy shit you asked me out

merlin and the rest of the knights around a campfire after leaving a village bc lancelot and leon somehow started a brawl in the tavern: ???

arthur points at merlin: after valiant! you asked me to buy you a drink! you were asking me out!

merlin is busy cooking dinner and confused out of his fucking mind: what???…..valiant….oh the knight with the snakes.

gwaine who was slightly tipsy now stone cold sober and sitting up straight against a tree: wait. explain. what do you mean merlin asked you out??

arthur snaps his fingers as he recalls the memory: i apologized for sacking you and you said that if i bought you a drink we’d be even.

merlin now remembering how he had stumbled into camelot, picked a fight with a pigheaded bully which quickly turned homoerotic and flirtatious, and continued their teasing-flirting for days before merlin shot his shot and asked the prince out only to be rejected: oh yeah, i forgot i did that…..wait, you mean you didnt realize what i was asking?

arthur: no?? we argued everyday, how was i supposed to realize you were asking me out??

merlin now abandoning the dinner and staring across the camp at arthur while the rest of the knights watch their back and forth like a game of tennis: to you we were arguing, to me that was very much flirting. i thought you were flirting back so i decided to ask you. then you rejected me

arthur, mentally beating his past self up for fucking up their chance: i didn’t reject you!!! i just didn’t realize what you were asking me. how was i meant to? we fought every chance we got

leon, nudging elyan, glee and excitement riling through him: its happening!!! its finally happening!!! seven long, grueling years is finally paying off!!!

merlin, realizing the misunderstanding and acknowledging the fact that he wasn’t rejected, his flirtations just weren’t noticed - realizing he still has a chance: oh…oh i see. arthur, my dear, our fights were extremely flirtatious. need i remind you of what you said? “do you know how to walk on your knees? would you like me to teach you?” or “i could take you apart with one blow”

arthur, mental capabilities at an all time low: m…my dear….?????????

merlin grinning devilishly as he realizes that his flirtatious persona he had hidden away after falling head over heels for arthur can make a come back: that is what i called you. should i call you something else? say…mine?

percival gags in elyan’s ear: cheesy

elyan hides a laugh: at least they’re finally getting somewhere. better than the hopeless pining

arthur, flushed from head to toe: ah uh no um im uh

merlin thoroughly enjoying himself: oh come now, your majesty. use your words.

[writingbyshiloh]

Third Time's the Charm

Request: Hii,if your request are still open can i request something for Gen V?Can you write something where Jordan and fem reader are childhood best friends and Jordan had always been in love with her but they feel insecure because they don’t know if reader will like them in both forms romantically?So when,in ep 3,Jordan dad goes like “Y/n and Jordan will be husband and wife” reader goes “Maybe we will be wife and wife”because she loves Jordan just like they are?

AN: Reader wants to be the first supe president (just to explain why they’re at the gala), I changed the timeline of the ep a tiny bit. I have another request about meeting Jordan's parents but that one might be more angsty.

CW: fem!reader, kissing, no beta, Jordan's parents are just their warning. The start is all flashbacks so I may have slipped on the tense a few times, no beta

WC: 2.0K

Jordan Li was your first kiss. Twice. The first time was in kindergarten, when they tried to kiss you and you smacked them with your Queen Mauve lunch box. Your second first kiss (the one you consider your actual first kiss) was done by you while playing truth or dare at 14. After picking a dare, you were asked to kiss the best-looking guy in the group. You shrugged and picked your best friend - Jordan. 

At age six, they were there when you broke your ankle trying to see if you could fly (you couldn’t). When you did get powers, they were the first person you told.

When Jordan came out to you as bigender, you did an internet deep-dive, trying to understand as much as possible.

Jordan listened to every interaction you had with your high school crush while quietly dying inside, wanting you to be happy. When your high school boyfriend cheated on you and then dumped you for the girl he cheated with, Jordan was there, ready to sink hours into their Xbox to keep you distracted.

The worst week of your life was when you didn't speak to Jordan for 9 whole days. You got into a petty argument where you called them self-absorbed and they called you clingy. The fight snowballed into yelling arguments and ended with you receiving a cold shoulder from Jordan. 

When Jordan got their wisdom teeth removed, you camped out in their room, snuggled under their duvet with them to watch Property Brothers for two days straight. You even made sure they took their painkillers on time and used ice packs.

Every fight with their parents, you were outside in your car ready to pick up Jordan to stay with you. Once you showed up at their house at 6:03 am, eyes blurry with sleep and still in pyjamas. Jordan was crying, bob haircut looked messy from sleep. You drove them to Vought-A-Burger, still half asleep and ate greasy breakfast sandwiches in your car until Jordan stopped crying. 

Jordan was even your date to prom, taking photos with you in their masculine form to get their parents off their back. Once their parents were happy, you snuck them back to yours, where you stashed their prom dress. 

You both even applied to God U together. Too nervous to check your acceptance, Jordan checked yours and you checked theirs. Sitting across from each other on your bed you both log in before giving the laptops to each other.

“Okay, three, two, one…” you counted down, opening Jordan’s laptop. Your eyes scanned for any promising words like congratulations, or welcome. "Accepted" was the first word your eyes caught but you need to fuck with them.

“Jord… I’m so sorry.” You start. Their face falls, and you feel like a dick for doing this. But the opportunity is too good to pass up. “That you believed me! Because you got in!”

They lunged across your bed to see what the screen says. You saw Jordan's eyes scan the same letter you just read, picking out the same words. 

“You’re such an asshole!” they told you, rolling their eyes, gently hitting your arm with the back of their hand

You’ve never been shy about showering Jordan with compliments. Saved in screenshots never to see the light of day, Jordan has kept some of them. 

You: OMG!!! Jordan you’re so pretty. I’m so lucky to call you my friend. 

You: You’re so handsome!!! I love your hair slicked back! If she doesn’t agree you need to drop her. 

You: ur a solid 9/10. Lost a point for not giving me a sip of your drink yesterday lol

Jordan Li has been in love with you since age 16. Probably earlier, if they want to admit that to themselves. You’ve only ever expressed interest in men so they kept their feelings to themselves, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, figuring it was better to have you as a friend only than not at all. 

In your first year, you were even roommates. While Jordan flourished in crim, you bounced between majors before settling into politics.

Every time you brought some frat guy to your shared dorm, Jordan died inside. Trying to get over their long-standing crush, Jordan did the same.

When Jordan made number 2 on the top five, you celebrate with them. Maybe a bit too hard that night.

You were there when their ranking dropped after the death of Brink. A man you only met twice, but you would do anything for Jordan. Especially given how hard you fell for both versions of them last year.

“I’m going to try to tag team with your dad, get some points for you and keep him engaged, yeah?” You ask over your shocker. Jordan is behind you, ready to help with zipper duty for your dress.

“You don’t have to.”

You let out a small scoff. “Dude. I’m doing poli supe. Schmoozing with rich people is like half our courses. Zip me up please.”

“How long have you known Jordan? You seem to be a good couple.” The man you and Jordan's dad suckered into a conversation asks. He's sitting beside Jordan's parents, while you and Jordan are on the edge of some fancy pit or table. 

“Well, these two have known each other pretty well over the years. Jordan tried to kiss her when they were kids, and she hit him with her Black Noir lunch box.”

“It was a Queen Mauve lunch box, actually.” You say with a laugh.

“And she called him ‘Jojo’ for probably the next two years out of spite.” Kayla laughs. It's a special embarrassment when your parents tell stories about your childhood. All the stories are about you but it's been so long ago you can’t remember any of it. Jordan looks worse off, slouchy posture against the banister, while you sit next to him. Part of you wants to tell him to sit up straight, but you figure you can play the grief angle better this way. 

“Oh, and remember when Jordan got his wisdom teeth out? You guys were inseparable. I think I still have the photo of you two passed out watching TV!” Kayla gushes, reaching for her phone to find the photo.

“We all thought you two would be president and First Gentleman.” Dad insists. Your smile is fake and tight, knowing if Paul pulls out prom photos, you would have to quietly fling yourself out of a window. 

Maybe you drank a bit too much liquid courage. Maybe the tension between them and their parents was getting to you. To give Jordan some space, you took their parents for a tour of your classes, knowing they’ll be talking to your family when they go back to Rochester.

Jordan shifting doesn’t even cause you to raise an eyebrow, the subtle sound just blurs into the background.

“Or president and First Lady.” You blurt out, four pairs of eyes darting towards you. “First supes in the Whitehouse? It would be political dynamite.”

“You like this version of Jordan?” Dad asks with bewilderment.

“Of course. I like Jordan because of how smart and driven they are. I like Jordan because of their weird sense of humour. It doesn’t matter what they look like.” you say, trying to prove it to their parents, but also to them. You’ve picked up on their crush many times, too kind to say something that would embarrass them or hurt them. It’s only recently how much you found yourself staring at fem Jordan and wanting to kiss her too. 

“I’m going to go and mingle some more.” says the man, Brad or Rob maybe. You forgot his name right after you met him. His words are like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. You don’t confess your feelings to Jordan just to Jordan, but in front of their judgy parents, and a possible donner. You need to go. 

You stand and straighten out your dress. 

“I’m going to go too. Other donors to talk to. Go Jordan!" You finish with an awkward laugh and even more cringy go team! gesture by yourself. 

You didn't lie to Jordan and their parents. You did go and talk to other donors but it twists your stomach every time you bring up how amazing their grades are, or how skillful they are at fighting. After donor number three gives you an answer that technically was “we’ll see” but heavily implied to be "yes for Jordan” you went to hide in the bathroom. You have enough battery left on your V-phone to keep it going for most of the night. Tomorrow you can talk to Jordan and hope you don’t fuck it all up. 

You barely look up when the door opens, already have done too much for the day to care who it is. 

‘Hey, can we talk?” You snap to attention at the voice. Of course, you know that voice. It's Jordan, still feminine presenting. 

“Fuck, Jord, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have spring that on you. I promise I’ll just go back and try to get you some votes, you’re going through a lot.” You say, in a rush to get the words out, desperate not to fuck up you’re friendship. The rim of the sink is hard against your back but you can’t help but shrink into it. 

“Did you mean it?” They ask, still keeping a distance from you.

“Yeah, of course, I don’t want to ruin this friendship.”

“No, what you said in front of my parents.” 

Oh right. Your confession. Fuck. It's already out there, might as well keep it going. 

“I may, uh-” you curse yourself for leaving your drink outside the bathroom, wanting something in your hands to stall. “-have a crush. On you. My best friend.” You twist your hands together, wishing Jordan didn’t look so pretty. If your heart beats any faster you may go into cardiac arrest. 

It's Jordan that indicates your third first kiss. It's gentle, and fast, like the second one. She pulls back quickly, but you run your fingers through her hair and pull her closer. The intensity from the first first kiss is still there, only this time you both share it. Her hand smooths up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek in a silent invitation to open your mouth. You comply, and tilt your head into her palm. Her tongue sweeps into your mouth and you can taste the champagne they were drinking. 

The sound of the door opening makes you both jump.

“Stall?” You ask, voice low and hushed. You squirm out from where she has you between the sink and her. You push the door open to the nicest-looking stall, desperate to keep kissing Jordan. They follow your lead eagerly, one hand wrapped around your shoulder to keep you near. 

Dipping their head, they softly kiss your jaw before moving onto your neck. You silently thank the other two women arguing in the bathroom so that your gasp goes unnoticed. Giving Jordan's hair a small tug, you pull them back up to you. The shit-eating grin they flash you makes you want to almost get caught again. 

Your free hand moves to their waist, trying to get as close to them as physically possible. 

You pull back slightly, wanting so desperately to get lost in the moment, but the commotion in the other stall is distracting. Plus you’re nosey.

Jordan frowns when you pull away, eyes scanning your face for something they did wrong. You shake your head and tip it over to the stall.

“The fuck?” They mouth to you, hand still around your shoulder.

You gently push Jordan against the door to give yourself space to squat down. You see two pairs of feet in the stall across the wall. You hear the voices quiet down, before the sound of someone peeing. You frown slightly, weird fetish to do at a memorial gala but you hear rumours about students into more fucked up shit. 

“We should get outta here.” You whisper to Jordan. 

“Weird place for our third first kiss.” Jordan whispers back. You reach around them to unlock the stall door. Third first kiss. You replay the words in your head, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. 

You gently push them out of the stall, trying to keep your laughs quiet as you both scurry past the other couple in the stall. 

[zweiginator]

Crawling After You (Patrick Zweig x Reader)

includes: mutual pining, friends to lovers, secret relationship

Patrick was your best friend in the whole world since childhood. You both went to tennis camps together and then to boarding school. Your parents are best friends, and they all thought your friendship would fizzle out by the time you hit puberty, but you stayed close.

And both of you would be in your own respective relationships that would inevitably fizzle out when your partners couldn’t get past your closeness. The bona fide twinkle in your eyes when you saw each other, even when it had only been a day or two.

Your friends all have crushes on him; they giggle and twirl their hair at his matches. They say they’re there for you, but you see how they blush when Patrick grunts, when he peels his shirt off and throws his battered racket against the pavement.

“You’ve never thought about fucking him?” Your friend asked you after your match. You were pissed about losing; Patrick was in your peripheral, beaming with his own friends about his big win against an NCAA favorite from UCLA.

“No.” You took a gulp of water, shaking your head. “I haven’t.”

“Do you think he thinks of fucking you?” Another friend butted in. “I mean, how can you resist that?”

You repeated yourself. “No.” Another sip of water, to help you hold your tongue. You weren’t in a good mood. “Patrick does not need help in the dating department, I know he doesn’t think of me that way. We are friends and that’s it.”

Except, since last summer, you had been fucking. A lot. The problem was that you and Patrick hated being told, “I told you so.”

And every single person you had crossed paths with, from middle school teachers, to tennis coaches, to acquaintances in your class were convinced you and Patrick would inevitably end up together. The story was too picturesque, your interests too aligned.

So you kept it a secret. You kept your chin high when girls fawned over Patrick, and he bit the inside of his cheek when boys whistled as you entered the court.

Last summer, Patrick and you got in a huge fight. You had never fought before; your friendship was uncomplicated. Neither of you ever directly competed against the other in tennis, you had almost everything in common. But after a team dinner one night in July, he and you were seething.

“Oh my god, Patrick.” You shoved his chest, annoyed that he barely moved from the force. You were in the parking lot, leaning against his expensive Jeep, a gift from his parents. “All you do is talk about the most shallow, meaningless fucking things.”

It started after he began to complain about your piqued interest in politics. You had always been well-read, but as Patrick said, “You just don’t need to talk about it all the fucking time.”

“What the fuck do I talk about that’s shallow? Tennis? Because last time I checked we both do that.” He rolled his eyes. “And don’t fucking shove me.”

You mocked him. You knew that was his biggest pet peeve. “You’re mad because I care about what’s happening in the world? Do you hear yourself?”

“I’m mad because you sound like a piece of shit politician, and your fucking personality changes as soon as you start talking to a new guy. And you’re becoming so fucking pretentious since you started hanging out with that fucking douchebag Vincent.”

You scoffed. “I find it funny you call me pretentious when you grew up in a fucking castle. Ironic coming from a kid who had escargot and caviar served to him on a platter at age 6.”

“What are you even talking about? You’re just saying shit that doesn’t even make sense because you know I’m right!”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes. “I don’t change my personality. I’m not even talking to anyone right now, and if I were, why does that even concern you?”

“Oh okay.” Patrick nudged you to move you away from the driver’s side door, letting himself in. “Get in, it’s about to rain.”

“No. What were you gonna say?”

He yelled your name. “I don’t want to get drenched. Just fucking get in!”

You crossed your arms. He was right, the wind was picking up, goosebumps peppered your arms all over and your hair blew into your face.

“Fine, then don’t.” He got into the car and started it. The headlights hurt your head and burned saucers into your retinas.

The rain began slow; fat droplets splashed against the curb and dribbled down your cheeks. And then it was faster, and the wind grew stronger, and you stood your ground. Patrick watched you, he watched your gray Stanford shirt get soaked, and your tennis skirt become plastered to your legs. Your hair was flush against your cheeks, eyelids heavy.

“Fucking get in the car.” He wasn’t yelling anymore. His shoulders were slumped, and you know he felt defeated as he got out of the car.

“Why don’t you tell me anything?” You started to cry. You didn’t know where this was coming from; this tantrum.

Patrick was soaked too. “I do tell you things!”

“Not as much.”

“It’s hard. It was easier when we were kids.”

“But what changed?” The engine grew louder, almost crescendoing in your ears.

"We aren't kids anymore. Everyone is always asking about me and you. There's no such thing as our innocent little friendship."

His words broke your heart. And he saw that as your shoulders slumped and your eyes welled with tears. "So what?" You asked. "What are you saying?"

Patrick sighed, pushing his wet hair away from his face. His white t-shirt was see-through, his broad shoulders rippling as the wind tore against his lean body. His voice was soft now. "Let's go back to the hotel. Stay in my room and we can talk."

The ride to the hotel was silent. Usually, Patrick would complain about water all over his leather seats, but he didn't say a word, and you wondered why, out of all the heartbreaks you had been through, why this conversation had chewed you up and spit you out so violently.

You sat on the bed with him and waited for him to speak first.

"Do you need a towel?"

You shook your head.

"What I was saying before," He began. "Why do we act like it's normal that in each of our relationships, the common denominator is that we are way too close?"

"We've never-"

"I know." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just saying maybe this friendship isn't really serving us anymore, and maybe it's causing more harm than good."

"You know what?" You stood up, grabbing your bag. "I've sat here and been your best fucking friend for twenty years, and now you're just taking the easy way out like you always do." You slung it over your shoulder. "I'll leave. Don't worry, I'll leave."

You wanted him to chase you down. He didn't. He didn't say bye or that he was sorry. One big fight during twenty years of friendship, and it would seemingly be your last.

The tournament was going on for another 3 days. After 2 nights of barely sleeping and going through the motions, of leaving the court whenever a mens' match was on, there was a knock on your door. You let him in; of course you did.

"I wasn't telling you I didn't want to be friends anymore." He whispered. Your back was against the door.

"Okay."

His finger trailed from the dip of your collarbones to your chin. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You swallowed, loudly, looking up at him inquisitively, waiting for him to finish his thought.

He fucked you with your legs over his shoulders, while your roommate was at lunch with the rest of the team. Patrick muffled your moans by spilling his own into your mouth. Sweat dribbled off his chest and your nails raked down his back as he thrust into you, over and over and over again. Twenty years of reserved angst and repressed feelings manifested in desperate whimpers and the sound of skin on skin echoing off the chipped taupe walls.

No words, at that moment, needed to be said. He was yin and you were yang. Your friendship began and ended where your bodies met. And it would never be the same.

He told you he loved you after he came, and you reciprocated those feelings. Something was so thrilling about the secret, though. Of people gossiping and speculating about the two of you. Of you both feigning disgust at the idea of fucking your best friend, only to ride him in the back of his car until the windows fogged up, and his chest was red and raw from your desperate scratches.

You loved the thrill. One whole year of sneaking around and nobody had a clue.

One year of pretending to get sick at parties, so Patrick would follow you into the bathroom and eat you out on the bathroom sink until your legs shook, raw from his stubble.

One year of Patrick tugging on the collar of his shirt during a match to signal he wanted you waiting in his car for him afterward. If he won, he made love to you slowly, rocking his hips, so his cock went deep, deep inside. When he lost, he spat on you, and left bruises on your ass that stung the next week as you sat on the metal bleachers.

It was hard to fit twenty years of love and pining into that one year without it bubbling over. At graduation, you and your friends threw your caps into the air and Patrick kissed you. Hands on your waist, tongue in your mouth.

The team gasped. They hadn't known your secret for the past year. But they did know it was only a matter of time.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Last Time: Jack Reacher x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @castle-of-ruin @baconeggndcheez @alishageorgia @hal3ynicol3

It’s past midnight and the stars are twinkling up in the sky as you and Reacher lie on a sleeping bag in the woodland near your house staring up on them. The trees rustle in the light breeze, the sounds of the forest a peaceful rendition.

Reacher’s fingers threaded through yours. The flames from the campfire illuminating his features, highlighting the freckles on his face. He’s more weather worn than you last time you saw him, his cheeks are grizzled, his skin a little more tan. He usually stops by every couple of months, shares your bed, walks your dog before he takes off again. He’s a nomad at heart, he always has been.

“This has to be the last time.” He says finally, swallowing hard against the well of emotion in his chest. “I can’t keep coming back here.”

You don’t say anything, not when he squeezes your hand just that little bit tighter or when he turns his head to survey your expression.

You know what the problem is.

Reacher is starting to settle.

His visits have been more frequent over the past year, he stays for longer, starts keeping things at your place. Nothing more than a couple of pairs of boxers and a t-shirt but they’re still there, still his. It’s the biggest commitment he’s made since retiring from the Army.

The man you first met arrived with only the clothes on his back, he didn’t need anything else and now he has a drawer in your dresser and his own mug in your cupboard.  

“Is that why you insisted we camp underneath the stars tonight?” You ask him quietly. “You wanted it to be special?”

“Something like that.” He tells you, his voice a little rough. The time you have together is incredibly meaningful to him, you’re the closest he’s been to another person in years which is why he has to let you go. He can’t afford to have any attachments, not with the way he attracts trouble.  

He rolls onto his side, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek as he looks into your eyes.

“I want you to remember me.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours. “Remember all the good we had together.”

He makes love to you that night, under the stars, the light of the campfire bathing your bare skin as he drives you to the pinnacle of release before he pulls you away again. He wants to keep you in freefall for as long as possible, to prolong the experience because Reacher, he isn’t ready for this to end, no matter what he tells you.

Your thighs clench around his hips, drawing him deeper. You can feel that climax building inside of you again, each wave washing over you, drowning you. Reacher’s hand comes to rest on your jaw, guiding your mouth back to his. He needs you to be immersed in him when you come, consumed completely because this is the memory he wants to leave you with, him loving you with everything he has.

He feels the exact moment the ecstasy hits you, you grip his dick so fucking tightly that you take him over the edge with you, his release spilling deep inside. He still doesn’t stop, he fucks it deeper, kissing you, touching you because Reacher, he’s not ready for it to be over, not yet.

“Jack…” You say quietly, your fingers threading through his hair as he buries his face into the curve of your throat.  “This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

But it does because Reacher, he can’t the thought of losing you and that’s exactly what’s going to happen if he stays.

Reacher? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[lumosandnoxwriting]

look at you || Fred Weasley

Title: Look at you Pairing: Fred x Reader Summary: distance really does make the heart grow fonder. Warnings: NSFW - minors DNI! This contains, vaginal sex, female receiving oral, breeding kink, mentions of cum marking, dirty talk, praise, mentions of sex toys/sexting and pregnant sex.  A/N: hockey!fred could hit me with his car and I would say thank you. Anyway as always this is dedicated to @darthwheezely b/c she always encourages my shenanigans. 

The away games are always the hardest. 

Fred is usually gone for a week, and between traveling, playing multiple games and the time differences they mainly communicate via text and maybe a phone call if they’re lucky. At first the lack of communication bothered Y/N. They moved across the country after Fred got drafted and it felt isolating to have the only person she knew in Washington unavailable most of the time. But now that Fred’s in the fourth year of his contract Y/N is a pro at handling the distance. Her and a bunch of the other WAGS always get together to watch the games at someone’s house, and usually do dinner or brunch on some of the days the guys are gone. And now that she’s working and more involved in the area she’s got plenty of friends and activities to keep her busy while Fred is away. 

She figured this season would be just like the others, that it would suck while Fred is gone but she’d just keep busy until he was back home in their bed. 

Until those two little pink lines stared up at her from the bathroom counter the night before training camp started. She wasn’t totally surprised at the result, considering her and Fred had been together for a decade, married for half of that and regularly relying on the pullout method as their main form of contraception. And of course they’d talked about having kids, but their general consensus had been that they would start trying once the season was underway, hoping to time it just right that their baby would be born at the beginning of the off season, so they could spend the first few months as a complete family unit before hockey took over Fred’s life again. 

But of course life decided to say fuck their plans, and now Y/N is due to give birth just before playoffs begin in April. 

Y/N had thought that having Fred gone during her first trimester would be the worst part of it, having to deal with morning sickness and those first few doctors appointments by herself. But the nausea and vomiting left her feeling so gross she was glad Fred didn’t have to see her like that, and they were able to work with her doctor so that Fred didn’t miss a single appointment. 

It’s now, with Y/N into her second trimester that Fred’s absence seems to be hitting her the hardest. Her bump has finally popped, and she can barely keep her hands from stroking over the smooth skin at all hours of the day. The baby has started to move around too, starting off as gently flutters she assumed was gas that have now grown into distinctive pushes against her belly. Not to mention the nausea and vomiting that plagued her first few months of pregnancy have faded away, and Y/N finally understands what people say when they talk about pregnancy glow. Her skin is the clearest and softest it’s ever been, and her hair and nails look amazing thanks to her prenatal vitamins. 

And just as she passed the five month mark her newest, and most annoying to deal with on her own, pregnancy symptom started. 

She’s unbelievably horny every hour of the day. 

Her newly filed out breasts constantly ache, and some days her nipples are so sensitive just the material of her bra sends a shiver down her spine. Her pussy is almost constantly slick, her clit throbbing and her cunt aching to be filled. Once the seam of her maternity jeans pulled so deliciously against her as she was driving that she nearly crashed the car as she came from that brush alone. 

Everything seems to turn her on these days, no matter how inconvenient the time or place is. 

Like right now, the guys are on the last leg of their longest away game stretch, the final game of a two and a half week trip, and her cunt is dripping as she watches Fred punch the other team’s center in the jaw. Not only is it inconvenient because she’s sitting on Melaine, the goalie’s girlfriend’s couch, but because Fred isn’t due back home until tomorrow afternoon and she passed out last night before she could put her vibrator back on the charger. And her own fingers will never live up to the memories of how worked up Fred gets after a fight, and how the only thing that seems to calm him down is taking Y/N from behind as he growls in her ear. 

She tries to shift subtly as the ref throws Fred in the sin bin, his mouth still moving wildly as he throws insults at the other team, but when Rachel throws her a look Y/N knows she’s been caught. Rachel is the wife of one of the defensemen, and had been heavily pregnant for most of last year’s season, so Y/N figures she knows exactly how she’s feeling right now. 

“Tomorrow afternoon can’t come soon enough,” Rachel teases, voice low enough so only the two of them can hear. 

Y/N snorts in laughter, nodding in agreement. “You have no idea.”

-

Fred throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he rushes towards his truck, causing his teammates to laugh even harder. The bus had barely stopped before he was up out of his seat and making his way to the front, far too eager to get home to Y/N. Because the texts she’s been sending since he got off the ice last night have had him perpetually hard in his pants and the only thing on his mind is getting home to his wife. 

He drives well over the speed limit on his way home, praying to whatever deity that exists out there he won’t get pulled over, since he’s pretty sure his urgent need to fuck his wife is not a good enough excuse to get out of a ticket. The car is barely in park as Fred throws the door open, hockey bag left behind in his haste to get inside. In a matter of a few seconds he’s barreling through the front door, taking the time to lock it behind him before he heads for the stairs. 

“Baby?” he calls as he climbs, ripping his shirt off as he goes. He pauses to kick his shoes off, just letting them tumble back down as he continues up. 

“Hi,” Y/N greets breathlessly when Fred appears in their doorway. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the way his jeans hang open, his cock clearly fighting against the material of his boxers. 

Fred groans as he takes Y/N in, cock throbbing at the way she kneels on their bed in nothing but his jersey. The curve of her bump is visible even in the oversized garment, and Fred almost can’t believe that this is his life. He makes a living playing the sport he loves and every night he gets to come home to the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen who’s beauty has only grown as he watches his child grow inside of her. 

“Fucking hell,” he practically growls as he steps into the room, his complete focus on Y/N. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, wife? That picture of your pretty pink pussy all wet and begging for my cock has been driving me crazy. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were all alone in our bed, desperate for my cock wearing nothing but my jersey.”

Y/N practically pants as Fred stalks toward her, hands clenched in fists at her sides to try and resist the urge to touch herself. She had to give herself a pep talk before taking the photo she sent, so to see Fred’s reaction to it here in the flesh makes her cunt throb with want. Before falling asleep Y/N had managed to work herself up to a few weak orgasms with her fingers, but those are nothing in comparison to what she knows Fred is about to give her. 

“Sexy?” she asks teasingly. Fred has finally made it to the edge of the bed, and she runs her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, resting her palms against the sides of his neck. “Even with my big old bump in the way?” 

“Especially with your big bump in the way,” Fred practically purrs. He finally gives in to his urge to touch his wife, one hand hooking around her thigh while the other fists the front of her jersey, yanking her closer to him. “Just knowing that you’re full of my baby, that I did that to you is enough to make me cum, something I know you’re well aware of.”

And she knows Fred isn’t lying. He’d always been possessive in the bedroom, and it only intensified when she got pregnant. Once her bump popped Fred was like a man possessed, needing to have one hand on it at all times. He’s finished on her bump more times than Y/N can count, rubbing his cum into her skin so he can claim her fully. 

Instead of responding Y/N lets Fred pull her into a kiss, her fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his skull as he nibbles on her bottom lip. He claims her mouth with his, crawling up on the bed so he can get even closer. The hand he had on her jersey makes its way up to cup her jaw, angling Y/N’s face so he can kiss her deeper, while the one that was on her thigh starts to travel further up.  

“Fuck,” Fred moans into her mouth as his hand brushes her bare hip. “No panties? Dirty girl.” He lets his hand cup the swell of her stomach, thumb slowly brushing back and forth in a sweet gesture that is the total opposite of the way he kisses his wife. 

“Please,” Y/N pants as Fred’s mouth finally leaves her’s, starting to press kisses into her neck. “Need you to touch me, Freddie, only feels good when it’s you.”

“Well how can I deny my wife when she asks so nicely?” 

Fred kisses the juncture of her throat one last time before pulling away just enough so he can pick her up under her thighs. He positions her back on the bed just how he wants, her back flat against the mattress with her legs spread wide, a hand on each thigh to keep them open for him. 

“You’re fucking cunt,” he groans, his eyes drawn to her slick pussy as he bites his lip. He sinks down on the bed so he’s resting between her thighs, thumb and forefinger spreading her pussy apart to put her clit on display. “This pussy is going to be the death of me.”

Y/N gasps as Fred finally puts his mouth on her, hips nearly lifting off the bed as he sucks her clit between his lips. Her toes curl as his tongue flattens against her, thighs already quivering as Fred’s thumb presses against her entrance. “God, please, Fred.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs to fuck into her with his index finger, curling it to press against the front wall of her cunt, right against the spot that has her moaning his name. His cock twitches as Y/N’s hand tangles in his hair, curling his tongue around her clit as she tugs. 

“Such a good girl,” Fred praises as he presses another finger into her slick cunt, letting his thumb rub small circles into her clit. “I love this pretty pussy so much, wife. Gonna eat it every fucking day of the week.”

He takes her clit back between his lips as he fucks her with his fingers, needing her to cum before he can give her what they both desperately need. His cock aches as Y/N grinds down against his face, the feel of her taking control of her pleasure only turning him on more. Fred’s tongue flicks at her clit as his lips suck, and he can tell by the way her cunt grips his fingers that she’s close. 

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my hand so I can have you cumming all over my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Y/N babbles as Fred licks her, fingers tugging him even closer into her as she grinds against him. Waves of pleasure are swirling in her core, electric shocks radiating all down her spine as Fred brings her closer and closer to the edge. He makes her feel like she’s on fire, completely erasing the few weak orgasms she had last night from her memory.

Fred wraps his arm around her thigh to keep Y/N in place as her orgasm takes over, his fingers and mouth still working her through the pleasure. Y/N’s toes curl as pleasure consumes her, thighs quivering as a cry of Fred’s name leaves her lips. Aftershocks of pleasure send shivers down her spine, and Y/N has to use her grip on Fred’s hair to separate his mouth from her cunt as she comes down. 

He doesn’t say anything as he crawls back up the bed, letting Y/N catch her breath before he leans down to kiss her softly. Her legs wrap around his hips, the need for Fred to be close overwhelming her need to get off for a brief moment. 

“Need you inside me,” Y/N murmurs against Fred’s mouth, her legs tightening around him. 

“Needy girl,” Fred teases, nipping at her jaw. But with one final kiss to her lips he pulls back, climbing off the bed so he can rid himself of the rest of his clothes. Who is he to deny the needs of his wife, the woman growing his child? 

Y/N makes a move to pull the jersey she’s wearing up over her head, and Fred grabs her wrist, shaking his head. 

“No, the jersey stays on.”

Fred’s pretty sure he hears her mumble something about him being a possessive idiot, but he doesn’t even care. Settling on the bed, back against the headboard with his cock leaking against his stomach, he beckons Y/N closer. “Come sit on my lap and make yourself cum on my cock, baby.”

Under normal circumstances she’d make some joke about how he’s making her do all the work, but her cunt is already aching again and if she doesn’t get Fred’s cock in the next three minutes she may die. Y/N crawls up the bed, shivering at the look in Fred’s eyes. It’s full of nothing but pure desire, and she can feel her heartbeat pulsing in her clit. At one point she feared that pregnancy may change the way Fred looks at her, and now as she straddles his waist Y/N can’t believe what an idiot she had been. 

One of Fred’s hands lands on her hip, the other on her bump and the contact sends a shiver down her spine. It takes a little bit of finesse with her bump in the way, but as soon as Y/N has Fred’s cock pressed against her cunt she’s sinking down. She’s slick enough from Fred’s mouth and her previous orgasm that she presses down until she’s fully seated in his lap, and her eyes flutter shut from the pleasure coursing through her veins. 

Fred is so thick and full inside her, and Y/N just sits there in his lap, eyes closed and her head tilted back as she appreciates the feel of him inside her. Y/N’s cunt pulses around him, and with how desperate she’s been to feel her husband like this, she already feels embarrassingly close to her climax already. 

“Fuck you are perfect,” Fred groans as her hips start to gently rock. He fixes her jersey so the hem rests on the top of her bump, wanting to see it in all of its glory. With one hand squeezing her thigh, Fred places the other on her stomach to help keep her balance. “So fucking full aren’t you, wife? So full of my cock and my baby, hm? Love being full of me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she responds breathily, leaning back to brace herself against Fred’s thighs. The new angle lets him sink even deeper, and a sharp gasp falls from her mouth at the sensation. “Always wanna be full like this.”

“With my baby or my cock?” he teases. 

“Both,” Y/N hits back truthfully.

“Fuck,” Fred growls, unable to keep his hips from thrusting. The moan that comes from Y/N spurs him on, and he continues to match her movements with his own. “Whatever my wife wants my wife gets. Gonna keep you nice and full with my cock and my cum and my babies until we’ve got a whole fucking hockey team, baby. And no one will ever doubt who you, who this fucking pussy, belongs too.”

Her cunt clenches even tighter at his words, encouraging Fred to keep talking. 

“Look at you, my pretty little wife, fucking herself on my cock. Bet you thought about this the whole time I was gone, didn’t you, love?”

“Fuck, yes,” Y/N moans. She’s inching closer and closer to her orgasm with each of her movements, thighs quivering from a mixture of the pleasure swirling in her core and the effort it’s taking to fuck herself on Fred’s cock. 

“Fuck you look so good like this, baby,” Fred praises. “Not gonna be able to take you like this much longer, am I? I swear everytime I look at you, your belly is bigger. It’s not long until you’ll be too big to ride me like this, isn’t that right, love? But that’s okay, because you look so fucking good all full of my baby. Seeing you like this, knowing I did this, makes me feel fucking feral, baby. You’re doing such a great job, growing our baby. Gonna be such a good Mama.”

The combination of Fred’s cock stretching Y/N to her limits and the constant stream of praise coming from Fred pushes Y/N over the edge, and her back arches as she comes. Shocks of pleasure jolt out from her cunt, her clit aching and her toes curling as her orgasm washes over her in waves. 

The feel of Y/N’s walls pulsing around Fred’s cock as she moans his name pushes him to his own climax, his hips just barely pushing up into her as he empties himself into her eager cunt. 

“Taking it so well, baby. Fuck.”

He places a hand on her lower back for support as they both come down, the hand he has on her bump rubbing soothing circles into the skin. When having her in his lap starts to get uncomfortable, Fred carefully lifts her off, maneuvering so he can lay Y/N next to him on the bed without jostling her too much. 

Finally feeling satisfied, Y/N watches Fred move around their room through her barely open eyes, too tired to try and stay awake any longer. She lets him move her around too clean up, a soft whine coming from her lips when he pulls the jersey up and off over her head. But she’s immediately placated when Fred helps her into one of his old t-shirts, and she doesn’t even fight him as he pulls sleep shorts up her legs. 

He disappears into their bathroom then, and Y/N is practically asleep by the time he reemerges and gets into bed beside her. But instead of Fred pulling her into his arms like she expected, her eyes open in surprise as Fred pushes up the hem of her shirt just enough to expose her bump.

“What are you doing?” she murmurs, tone laced with humor. 

“What does it look like?” Fred responds as he pours lotion into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. He cradles her stomach carefully, slowly starting to massage her skin. “I’m taking care of both of my girls.”

[borathae]

"I’m honestly so free use with you when I sleep", you told him after a very passionate morning in the sheets. That was weeks ago. Right now, your confession is haunting Jungkook. Free use, you called it. Free use...The words sound sweet to his pleasure twisted mind. Free use... Jungkook gulps and chases the ecstatic feelings your sleeping body gives him. One more time. He needs it one more time. 

Alternatively: After accidentally turning Jungkook on before you fall asleep, you wake up to him using your willing body to get off. Not that you mind, as his reward for your submission is as sweet as honey.”

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, Camping Trip!AU, Smut 

Warnings: switch!Jungkook, subby!Reader, he calls her Mistress at first but then gets so needy that he takes the lead, Yoongi makes a short appearance, hints at various threesomes, hints at bondage, sex in a camper van, needy!Jungkook, consensual free use kink (free use in this story = you can do whatever you want to me, whenever you want), consensual somnophilia, kinda sensory deprivation because he does all of this to her in a dark room & she can’t see, Koo has sensitive nipples, nipple sucking, he rubs his nipples against her lips as she sleeps, he humps her thigh while she sleeps, and plays with her pussy while she sleeps, big cock, vampire fangs, needy begging, body & breast worship, strength kink (he rips her clothes & pins her down), dirty talk, sloppy oral (f.receiving), fast pussy fingering, lotsa drool & slick, squirting, he cums humping the mattress, cuddly aftercare, they’re in love & very needy for each other

Wordcount: 5.4k

a/n: besties, it is finally happening. Sanguis!Kookie is getting the smut he deserves. Get ready for lots of it because I am obsessed with him. I fucking LOVE him. This is set once he learned how to control his urges. Oh yeah, and it’s a Kinktober22 request that didn’t make the cut, surprise it’s here now! Have fun! 🤍

Today was a first for you and Jungkook. Your first ever couple trip. It wasn’t far. Just four hours by car to a small coastal town where every restaurant offered seafood and the air smelled of ocean. He drove while you napped.  

You spent the first day putting up your camper van by the beach and checking out the camp side. You spent too many minutes in the ocean and even napped under the shade of a big tree, cuddled up in a spacious hammock where Jungkook stole way too many kisses from you. Later in the evening – and after washing off the salt from your bodies and putting on pretty clothes – you went to eat at one of the restaurants where you ended up talking about too many things and drinking way too much wine.

It resulted in you getting so sleepy that you had just about enough energy to walk back to the camp side, wash up and fall into bed. The movie night you promised Jungkook was cancelled as you fell asleep five minutes after your head hit the pillows. 

Jungkook was left gawking at you with a big pout. He didn’t even have time to wash up and cuddle you in bed and you were already sleeping. 

Feeling utterly defeated, Jungkook leaves the camper to talk with Yoongi on the phone and make way for his frustrations.

“Hey, Kookie”, Yoongi picks up after the second ring, “what happened? Are you okay? Why are you calling me?”

“Yes, we’re okay. I’m sad. ___ already fell asleep because she drank too much wine.”

Yoongi chuckles fondly. 

“She’s cute”, he says, shifting on the chair in the music room. He was writing music on the piano before Jungkook called. He is smiling because hearing Jungkook’s voice makes him happy and hearing about your shared day makes him even happier.

“Yeah she is. Fuck hyung, it’s so unfair I want her but she’s asleep.”

“I can’t help you with that”, Yoongi says in a laugh, “why are you telling me?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know who else to tell.”

Yoongi laughs harder, “you are so silly sometimes, Kookie. Just enjoy your time with her, slip under the blanket and hold her. Listen to her sleep, kiss her neck. She’s so soft when she sleeps.”

Jungkook presses his legs together even when standing up. You would fit so snugly against his chest. Jungkook can perfectly imagine just how warm and soft you would feel. How you would press against the spots which are so incredibly sensitive. Jungkook shifts, feeling heat threaten to gather between his legs.

“Kook?” Yoongi’s voice rips him out of his thoughts and to his reality. Shit. He completely forgot that he was talking with Yoongi on the phone. Jungkook feels his cheeks heat up at the realisation.

“Y-yeah?”

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“Yeah uh, yeah I did. Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Mhm I could tell”, the fond smirk in Yoongi’s voice is obvious to Jungkook.

He flusters.

“I’m so stupid for calling”, he mumbles, “I’m sorry hyung, I know you can’t help me.”

“It’s alright, kiddo. You know you can always call me, yeah?”

“Mhm, yeah I do.”

“Good”, Yoongi says and chuckles softly, “I gotta agree though. I can’t help you. You gotta help yourself.”

“I know”, Jungkook whines, “shit, I’m just nervous.”

“Why? It’s just ___.”

“Exactly”, Jungkook widens his eyes, “I’m so scared to lose control.”

“Kookie”, Yoongi’s voice was soft but carried the slightest hint of a scold with it, “if there was even the slightest possibility that you could lose control, I wouldn’t have let you go on this trip. You are ready. Trust in yourself, my lovely.”

Jungkook smiles giddily, “thanks, my hyungie. I needed to hear this.”

“Always happy to help”, Yoongi says, “now stop talking to me and hold our princess, you fucking deserve it, goddamn it.”

Jungkook chuckles, “yeah okay, you’re right”, he giggles, “I’m excited, hyung.”

“Mhm, you can be. She feels like heaven.”

They end their call soon after. Yoongi will continue playing piano, but he will do so with a soft smile ever so slightly present on his lips. Jungkook returns to your camper van, sneaking a glance at your resting form. You are sleeping peacefully with your mouth agape in soft snores. Jungkook finds himself melting at the view and wanting to cradle you against his chest. He perseveres however, sneaking away into the small bathroom to clean off the day.

Jungkook returns after some time, wearing nothing more than a pair of satin boxers. He tiptoes to the bed and crawls on top. He knows that he can be careful without even having to try. Sneaking comes natural to his race. A vampire is, after all, meant to surprise its prey when they least expect it. 

He opens the blanket to slip inside. You roll to your back and then to your side. Jungkook halts, holding his breath. Your eyes open, searching for him in the darkness. Jungkook can see you perfectly, while you are clearly blind.

“Honey?” your voice is frail in sleep. 

“Go back to sleep”, Jungkook whispers. 

“I can’t.”

“Why not? Nightmare?”

You shake your head, eyes focusing on his face. At least you think that you do. You are looking right past him. Jungkook thinks it’s adorable. 

“I want snuggles”, you say and pout. 

Jungkook feels flutters in his tummy. You are so cute when you’re sleepy and a little tipsy. He closes the distance between you and him and picks you up just to rest you against his chest.

You rub yourself against him like a cuddly cat, humming softly.

“So nice”, you mumble, burying your face in his naked chest, “I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, my honeybee”, Jungkook says, kissing your hair, “sleep tight.”

You huff out air, running your fingertips along his waist. Jungkook feels goosebumps cover every single inch of his body because of it. 

“I dreamed of you”, you whisper slowly and very quietly. 

“You did?” Jungkook is melting under your touch, squeezing his legs together.

“Mhm, you moaned for me.”

“I did?” Jungkook croaks, rolling his hips into you as inconspicuously as possible, “why?”

“I made you cum”, you say and wrap your lips around his nipple to suck softly. 

“Ah”, Jungkook gasps, parting his lips. His body shudders, his cock throbs instantly. His nipples are his weak spots. You are so warm and wet around him. 

“Oh god, why are you doing this?” he chokes out, fighting every urge inside him not to take you against the fucking sheets right here and now. It’s like you pressed a button. He feels fucking charged.

“Is nice”, you murmur and continue to suck on him in rhythmical motions, growing slower and slower as the seconds turn into minutes.

Jungkook is a mess by the time your sucks are barely there, trembling in desperation and moaning into your hair. His cock is straining his briefs, his fingers twist the pillow behind your head. He would probably hurt you if he didn’t, because the only thing he truly wants to twist is a bundle of your hair. He would be way too rough if he did, having to twist the poor pillow instead.

“Oh god, honey”, Jungkook croaks, giving you a breathy moan afterwards. If he knew that he would get to feel something so incredibly good, he would have joined you in bed sooner.

You suck and suck and…suck and…stop. Your lips part and slip from his swollen nipple. Your tongue leaves it too. 

“Please don’t stop”, Jungkook begs, releasing the pillow to caress your head, “please? More?”

“Hm”, the sound you make is barely there. Your tongue darts out and licks his sensitive nipple. Soft, slow, barely there kitten licks is all he gets, but Jungkook is so charged in pleasure that he feels no different than when you sucked him. 

He moans instantly, closing his fingers around a bundle of your hair before he realises what he was about to do and he grabs the pillow instead.

“Thank you”, he sighs, "this feels so good. Oh god, it feels so good…”

Lick. Lick. Lick. Slower and slower. The pressure gets less. You breathe on his wet nipple. Like a huff of air. Involuntary and definitely not meant to stimulate him. Jungkook still moans and squirms. Your tongue stops.

“More please”, Jungkook begs, arching his chest into your mouth. Your lips press against his nipple, but don’t move. They simply rest on him and drive him insane. “Mistress?” Jungkook gets out.

No answer. You grow soft in his arms and seconds later, your breathing returned to a slow and steady rhythm. You have fallen back to sleep, now resting safely in his arms. 

You left him in his desperation. You used the sucking as nothing more than your way of relaxation. And while you found peaceful sleep through it, Jungkook is left feeling like bursting. His cock is so hard, his balls so swollen and his nipple is so sensitive that one little pinch would be enough for him to soak his boxers in slick. 

Jungkook pulls you closer and sobs softly.

“Don’t do that to me please”, he begs, “please wake up again please.”

Sleep however doesn’t release you and Jungkook is left with a painful hard on and sensitive nipples begging for attention. 

“Please wake up, please”, Jungkook begs, trying to wake you with a little shake of your head. You don’t wake, but what does happen is that your lips rub against his nipple. Jungkook moans softly, quickly realising what he just did and going up in flames as a result. 

“Sorry”, he gets out, “I, I didn’t mean to, I-”, he hesitates. It felt so good to do. Your lips are so soft and warm and still wet from all the licking you did. Would it be disgusting of him to do it again? Just one more time? 

There is a part of him which tells him that he is disgusting for wanting it and another part of him which keeps reminding him of that one conversation you had a few months ago. 

“I’m honestly so free use with you guys when I sleep”, you told Yoongi and him after a very passionate morning in the sheets where Yoongi woke you with oral while Jungkook jerked off and watched, “as long as you make sure that I don’t get hurt, you can honestly use my body however you want. Wake me with your cock stuffed in me if you want to, I’m so down.”

Back then, your confession resulted in Yoongi and Jungkook fucking you to the point where you cried from feeling too good. 

Right now, your confession is haunting Jungkook. Haunting and tempting and turning him into a version of himself which he feels very ashamed of. Free use, you called it. Free use…The words sound sweet to his pleasure twisted mind. Free use…

Jungkook gulps and squeezes the back of your head with his fingers. One more time. He presses your head closer and moves his chest. His nipple rubs against your lips. 

“A-ah hng”, he gets out and swallows audibly, feeling his cock twitch in his briefs. The feeling was indescribable. Your lips are so soft and wet. Now that sleep is keeping them relaxed, they are moving around his nipple sloppily. 

Again. He needs it again.

Jungkook presses into you and grinds his swollen bud against your lips. Electricity shoots down his body and moves his cock in a throb.

“Oh god”, he moans, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I’m sorry, it’s so good. I’m sorry.”

He grinds his nipple into your lips and moans. It feels so good. You made him so swollen and hard and sensitive that now he is dizzy because of it. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t stop”, Jungkook whimpers, “Mistress, you feel so good.”

You give him no answer. You are slumbering peacefully. 

Jungkook presses himself closer, hoping for more of the sensation. He needs more of your mouth. More. You mewl and move your head away. He was too close, air was too sparse. 

Jungkook shimmies back, staring at you with glassy eyes. His nipples are throbbing. He wants more, but he knows that he should give you a break. He was greedy enough. 

He cups your cheek, runs his thumb over the lips he used so disgustingly before.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers, “I’m so horny, I didn’t know what I was doing.”

He has no idea why he apologises. He knows that he can do that to you. He was witness when Yoongi did far kinkier things to your sleeping body. He witnessed when he tied you to the bed and woke you with his fingers buried inside your already soaked pussy. And he was witness how you sleepily tried to fight the ropes only to beg for Yoongi’s vampire cock seconds later. And he was witness as Yoongi gave it to you, pounding into you until even the last ounce of sleepiness was fucked out of you.

Jungkook was witness to all of it and yet he still feels as if he committed a crime. He would feel far more terrible if his cock wasn’t that hard and his thoughts weren’t stuck on that night all of a sudden.  

“Oh god, I can’t help it”, Jungkook croaks and rolls you onto your back. He pins your hands against the pillow and wiggles his knee between your legs. Then he straddles your thigh, hovering above you that way. His curly hair hangs into his features messily, his blown out eyes are glued to your sleeping form. 

You look so innocent and sweet. Yoongi was right, watching you sleep is the best thing ever. It makes him feel so goddamn good. Especially when you look and feel so fragile under him. He feels so needed and strong, but also incredibly horny.

Jungkook angles his hips and rolls them against your thigh.

“Ah, hah ah”, he moans, squeezing your hands. Your thigh is grinding right against his swollen, hard cock. Slick covers his tip instantly, forcing his briefs to stick to it and making it slip against your naked thigh. 

You aren’t wearing panties. Jungkook can see it from the position because when he flipped you onto your back, your shirt slipped up your tummy and the blanket fell from your torso. Your pussy’s right there. Exposed to his eyes. As if you wanted to give him as little hurdles as possible. As if you wanted him to be able to access your pussy whenever he wanted to. 

Free use. 

You weren’t lying.

Jungkook moans throatily, punishing you with harsh rolls of his hips. He is aware that the only person that punishes is himself as this results in his cock rubbing against you with such vigour, Jungkook finds himself convulsing in reaction. 

“Fuck”, he rasps, “fuck, I’m so disgusting”, he chokes out and whimpers, “and you’re so perfect”, he gets out and furrows his brows, eyes focusing on your pussy. 

Maybe he is imagining it, but you are glistening. As if you are getting wet. Jungkook puts your hands together so he can hold both your wrists with one hand, then he lets his other run down your body. Along your arm, lingering on your neck and massaging your breasts for a while. 

You whimper, but don’t wake. 

“You’re perfect. Completely perfect.”

Jungkook speeds up his hips against your thigh, soaking more of his briefs. So fucking soft. You’re so soft when you sleep.

He runs his hand further down your body, your tummy is one of his favourite spots to touch. So soft and pretty. Next your hips. Jungkook fights every urge inside of him not to bruise it. Then your pussy. 

You moan in your sleep at the first touch, writhing underneath him as he drags his fingers through your folds. 

Jungkook trembles and squeezes your wrists. 

“So wet”, he growls, feeling his cheeks tingle as veins appear on his skin. He draws circles on your soaked entrance, looking at it with blown out pupils. The sexy dream you had before must have turned you on so much that you got wet. Jungkook moans and fucks your thigh in desperation. So wet and warm. So warm…

He wants to push inside, but doesn’t dare to. So he lifts his fingers, guiding them to his lips to suck them clean. 

The second your taste touches his tongue, Jungkook knows that he is done for. His eyes glow ruby instantly and his fangs are outside within not even a second. He moans deeply, cock ripping through his briefs from the sheer animalistic need he feels. Your thigh is covered in his slick instantly, resulting in his swollen cockhead to slip and slide all over your skin.

He moans, fucking your thigh as if he was already pounding your pussy. He is so turned on. He could cum right here and now if he wanted to. You are so goddamn sweet.

Jungkook sucks his fingers until even the last of your taste is gone. He slips out and moans deeply. His eyes don’t know where to look. Your pussy, your thigh, your tummy, your face, your tits. Your tits. Your nipples are swollen even under the fabric.  

Jungkook doesn’t think, he acts. He is too far gone to think. He rips your shirt and exposes your torso to his eyes. Your tits look so pretty when you are lying down and gravity does its perfect job. 

“Fuck, baby”, Jungkook whimpers and gathers one side in his spit covered fingers. He lowers himself and sucks your nipple into his mouth. 

“Ah”, you moan, arching your back. The scent of your wetness grows stronger in his nose and Jungkook swears that he sucks even harder because of it. He slides up your body, pressing his knee against your soaked pussy. 

A whimper slips past your lips. Jungkook soaks up the sound as much as he soaks up the feeling of your wet cunt against his knee. He rubs it into you demandingly, abandoning your wrists to instead gather your other breast as well. Hungry and full of greed, he leaves a sloppy trail of kisses on your chest as he changes sides. Your nipple slips between his fangs and he sucks hard. 

“Ah”, you moan, arching your back, “what? Ah! What?”

Jungkook lifts his head. You are awake again. Of course you are. It would have been a surprise if his rough touches hadn’t woken you. Your eyes search for him in the darkness. You look so out of it and confused.

“Don’t be scared”, Jungkook rasps, “I’m taking care of you.”

“I don’t get it, w-what are you doing?”

“You can’t just suck my nipples and expect me to be okay afterwards. I’m so fucking hard, feel it”, Jungkook grinds his huge cock against your thigh, pairing it with his knee grinding into your pussy. 

“Kook”, you moan, reaching for his hips.

“No”, Jungkook pins your hands above your head within a second, “stay where you are or I’m tying you up.”

“W-what?” you blink in the darkness, “I don’t understand. What are you doing?”

“Free use. That’s what you called it. Free use. I’m taking what’s promised to me.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook watches in delight as you roll your eyes back sensually. You arch your back off the sheets and throw your head back as best as possible.

“Holy fuck”, you choke out, rubbing your thighs against his legs in a needy attempt to press them together. 

“That’s okay with you, right?” he makes sure, “can I make use of it?”

“Yeah, fuck Kook. Yes”, you allow him, opening your legs again as you squirm sensually.

“Good. Wanna exchange safewords?”

“Mhm, snowdrop.”

“Yeah, snowdrop. Fuck, I’m gonna fucking ruin you”, he rasps and lowers his tongue to your body to lick a thick and hungry stripe down your tummy. 

You writhe and whimper, allowing it to happen with a racing heart. Like this, he isn’t holding your wrists anymore, but he doesn’t have to. Your body is still droopy enough that keeping your hands above your head is an easy task to do. 

It does get harder however when Jungkook buries his tongue between your folds. You expected anything but this. 

“Ah! Kook”, you gasp, bucking your hips up. 

Jungkook grips them and pins them into the sheets, growling into your pussy as he sends you a warning look. One you can’t see because it’s dark in here and you have your face scrunched up in pleasure.

Jungkook fucks the mattress and moans, changing his grip on your hips to one around your thighs just so he can push them apart and reveal more of your pussy to him. He growls again from the pleasure this brings him, burying his hungry mouth deeper between your folds. He licks eagerly, using the animalistic hunger he feels for you to keep it quick.

“Holy fuck, please don’t stop”, you moan, panting like crazy afterwards.

The thing with Jungkook and oral is that up until two months ago, he was unable to do it with you. He wanted to do it, but his urges were too strong to do it safely. If he had given you head, it would have resulted in him biting you and therefore hurting you. Not anymore. Jungkook has been practicing with you and Yoongi almost every third night. It was the result of one terribly sexy evening where Yoongi tied up Jungkook and then made him eat you out “as practice”.

Ever since then, Jungkook couldn’t get enough. He was insatiable, asking for more practice sessions whenever he gets the chance and fantasising about nothing other than having your pussy under his tongue again and again and again. 

Your taste haunts him. It stays with him when he isn’t eating your pussy and it tortures him with its absence until he has to beg for yet another “practice session” in order not to go mad. You are all aware that calling them practice sessions is nothing but a lie. Jungkook found his sweetest drug between your legs and needs it like an addict. He doesn’t want to practice, he wants to get high on you. And you won’t complain. Practicing with Jungkook feels like fucking heaven. 

And tonight it seems that he finally had enough of pretending that what he does is nothing but practice. You are alone with each other, no Yoongi or Taehyung to monitor him in sight. This isn’t practice anymore. This is honest sex. The thing he already did every third night under the guise of practicing. 

“Don’t stop, please”, you beg, feeling your thighs shake without having any sort of control over it. He is moaning and growling so much that besides the quick licks and strong sucks, Jungkook sends vibrations through your pussy and it’s making staying still impossible.

Jungkook thinks that he still goes a little feral during those moments. That would explain why his cheeks are covered in veins and why his fangs are out. You taste way too good. Jungkook didn’t think that your pussy would taste so good, but she does. He grows feral for your taste and feels withdrawal symptoms whenever he can’t taste you.

More. He needs more.

He buries three of his fingers in your pussy just to pick up your slick and lick it off his fingers. In the current position, his tongue grinds against your clit as he licks and you whimper his name as your hands finally leave their position.

You grab a bundle of his curly hair and twist it. Your other hand slips to your own thigh just so you can grab it in desperation.

Jungkook looks up. Your head is rolled to your side, your pretty tits move each time you pant for air. He wants to touch them and squeeze them and roll your nipples, but he physically can’t bring himself to leave your pussy. Instead, he buries his fingers back in your warmth. Three at a time and covered in his drool. This time around, he does it so he can massage your g-spot as he begins sucking and licking your clit. 

You wail and arch your back, kicking the sheets because you can’t handle this feeling otherwise. You dreamed of him before you woke. Like before, you dreamed of having him lie heavy in your hands as you made him cum. It was such an immersive dream until all of a sudden it stopped feeling like a dream and became your reality.

You can’t accept that this is your reality. That Jungkook is eating your pussy as he fingers you roughly. It’s too much for your sleepy brain to comprehend and all you can do is shake and tremble and kick the sheets as your fingers dimple your own thigh. 

Jungkook out of all the people is eating you out. After two months of extensive training, you should be used to his techniques, but you really aren’t. You never know what you will get with him. He can be so gentle and slow if he wants to, whilst other times he treats you with such roughness that you want to scream. He is never terrible however. As if giving head comes to him naturally. Like a vampiric purpose he is finally able to fulfil.

Jungkook breaks his lips away from your clit and presses his thumb against it instead. You know what that means, moaning his name loudly as Jungkook drags his heavy tongue up your torso.

Not being able to see what he does, adds excitement to all of this. “Please don’t stop, holy fuck”, you beg, feeling charged in pleasure. He is massaging your g-spot with such precision that there is a constant hot pressure deep inside your pussy. As if you were constantly on the edge of orgasming. You can’t handle it, but don’t want it to stop.

He takes your right nipple between his teeth and tugs hard. 

“Fuck", you squeak at the pinch, arching your back. 

“I wanna ruin you”, Jungkook growls, “I wanna fucking break you”, he adds and lifts his head, staring down at you with swollen, parted lips. His long fangs glisten behind them, but you can’t see them. You are blind to his current state. The black veins, long fangs, feral hunger in his eyes. You have no idea that it is happening, all you can do is moan and writhe for him.

“Don’t stop, please”, you beg unaware of his confession and slave to his touches. 

He speeds up his hand between your legs, fucking your pussy with angry precision. 

“Like this, baby? Mhm?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and sob softly. Waving your hands in the air panickedly until finally grabbing your own thighs. Jungkook watches it happening with a throbbing cock. 

“Kook, please.”

“So good”, he lulls, drooling on your chest, “shake for me. That’s my girl, shake for me.”

“I’m gonna cum”, you croak and sob, “please don’t stop, please.”

Jungkook doesn’t stop. He keeps going. He is addicted to two things. Your taste and your orgasms. Knowing that he out of all people can make you feel so good that your body has to climax in order to handle it, fills him with a rush of ecstatic pleasure. He wants it to happen anytime you announce it, making it his only goal for the time it takes you to get there.

“I wanna lick you”, he pants, “will this get you there? Can I please lick your pussy?”

“Yeah”, you mewl and sob, writhing under him.

“Fuck. Thank you”, Jungkook moans and disappears between your legs. He replaces his thumb with his tongue, but keeps the speed of his fingers going. With eager curls and fast motions, he fucks your pussy open as his tongue and lips work your swollen clit. 

Your voice breaks and you grow completely silent as you hold your breath. One. Two. Three. 

“Meehngn”, you let out in whimpers, now fighting for air in quick pants until it repeats itself again. Silence as you hold your breath and then squeaky sounds as you fight for more air. 

Jungkook knows that it’s only a matter of seconds by now. You get terribly non vocal whenever you are close. He fucks the mattress harshly, whimpering into your pussy. To think that he was able to fuck you so much these days that he learned that fact about you. It’s a dream come true. He is so fucking happy!

“No-ohw”, you choke out and break under his tongue. Your legs close around his head, your pussy squeezes his fingers and your clit throbs against his tongue. Your orgasm sits so deep, making you cry out because Jungkook moves just right to turn it from good to spectacular. 

You are so turned on and sensitive from the combination of all your dreams and Jungkook’s touches that it doesn’t need a lot for you to convulse to the point where you cover his face in your wetness. 

Jungkook moans loudly and cums. He fucks his throbbing cock into the sheets as he shoots cum everywhere. He can handle everything but not drinking your squirt. The smell of it is already enough to make him climax. Your taste is another story. One which make him cum so fucking hard that he feels delirious afterwards. 

He keeps his fingers buried in your pussy to feel your rhythmic clenches, but rests his head on your thigh, panting with you as you both recover. 

“I’m sorry”, you whisper in a frail voice.

“For what?” he asks in a husky voice.

“I should have warned you.”

“Don’t apologise”, Jungkook clears his throat. Your taste still lingers on his tongue. He feels his head pound because of it, “don’t ever apologise for that.”

“I don’t know what to do”, you confess.

“Why?” he lifts his head, “are you okay?”

“No?” you laugh, “you just ruined me.”

“I told you that I would, didn’t I?”

“Yeah…”

You giggle and you sound so sweet doing it that Jungkook wants to kiss you. He gathers his already recovered strength and kisses a trail up your torso. You gasp and grow softer underneath him. This feels like heaven. To be brought to your breaking point, only to be loved so tenderly afterwards is heaven.

“Koo”, you get out, presenting your neck to him so he can kiss it. He does so with a happy sigh, slipping his fingers out of you to instead caress your waist. It fits so perfect between his fingers and all he really wants to do is cherish it. Neither of you mind that this spreads your wetness all over your skin.

“Thank you”, he whispers, stubbing your jawline with his nose.

“For what?”

“For this experience. I know you talked about free use, but it’s a privilege to be able to touch you, not a right. So thank you.”

You roll your head to look at him. You are looking right past him again. Jungkook smiles because of it. 

“I’m happy when you touch me”, you whisper and smile droopily.

Jungkook giggles and kisses your forehead.  

“I’m gonna give you so many orgasms on this trip”, he whispers against your skin, “you have no idea.”

You squirm and giggle, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to squeeze them gently.

“Don’t say that.”

“Mhm, no I will”, he whispers and snuggles into you, purring softly as he suckles on your neck to find relaxation. 

You sigh, closing your eyes as tranquillity washes over you.

“Did you rip through your briefs?” you ask him now that you feel his softened cock press against your leg. 

“Yeah”, he says and chuckles, “I lost it at your taste.”

You snicker, “you have the strongest cock ever, this is impressive.”

“In my defence, my vampire cock kinda has a mind of its own sometimes. I’m still not completely in control.”

“Don’t apologise, it’s hot”, you say and nuzzle into him, “I can’t wait to wake up to it stuffed in me tomorrow, yeah?”

“You’re unfair”, Jungkook mewls, “fuck, now Imma dream of it.” 

He makes you laugh, “sorry.”

“So mean”, he mumbles and pouts. 

He feels way too drained from his orgasm to feel truly affected by what you just said. You feel too ruined by your orgasm to want him to act on it right now. It still feels nice to tease each other. 

Jungkook cuddles into you, closing his arms around you. 

“Wanna stay like this forever”, he confesses and sighs happily.

“Me too”, you say, hugging his arm as best as possible.

You drift off to sleep together in this position, smiling because it felt so good to finally be able to love each other without any kind of restraints.

[xoxochb]

i begggggggg u to do a percy x socially awk reader where percy realises she has like 3 default emotes like “real” “what the flip 😨😨” “🤷‍♀️” or smth and like teases her abt it 🙏🙏🙏

— that one convo

warnings: none pairing: percy jackson x socially awkward! reader a/n: “wow this fic is very detailed with strong loathing for social interactions” yeah it’s because I’m projecting 🥰

social events were the bane of your existence, the reason you woke up every morning and wish you could die. unfortunately when you’re a demigod they’re hard to ignore, camper there, camper here, now you have camp chores… the list goes on. It wasn’t only that you loathed social interactions— you were painfully awkward. stepping outside was practical social suicide for you. which is why you kept to yourself and sat at cabin three table with the only boy you would tolerate speaking to

you take a handful of his assorted berries into your hands and onto your plate, eating them one by one

“so what’re you up to today?” asks percy

you stop and think. you hadn’t planned your day out that far yet. “I’m not sure. maybe I’ll paint or read or sleep. I don’t know”

“that sounds great! I’m free today too, maybe I could come with you?”

“uhhh… yeah” you shrug “but I don’t want you interrupting my reading. can you stay quiet?”

“just for you” percy winks, maybe you scrunch your nose in disgust and return your focus to your breakfast. that’s when your worst fear happens. a camper walks to the table— presumably from cabin seven because her hair flies in rays of sunshine. you stiffen and avoid eye contact

“there’s a party in hermes cabin later, you coming?”

“I’ll be there! do you wanna come to, (name)?”

you swallow hard and nod. but no you do not want to go. parties were the home place of social situations and people. tons. of. people.

“okay, great! I’ll see you two tonight then” the girl smiles and leaves the table (your prayers had been answered! tyche would be getting extra offerings this morning for sure)

percy furrows his brows and turns fully to you. “what was that?”

now you avoid eye contact with him also. “what was what?”

“well, I mean you were talking to me fine and then that girl came over here and you forgot how!”

“I don’t like that girl” you lie

“you’ve never met her in your life and I know it because you only ever talk to me”

you frown. “I don’t like talking to anyone else…”

“I figured”

you give him a look of disapproval and hit him upside the head. “don’t be a smart-ass”

“you know what?” he says, ignoring your comment and action

the look on your face is bored. you know what he’s about to say. yet you sigh and reply, “what?”

“I’m glad you only talk to me. makes me feel special”

you close your eyes and shake your head slowly. percy laughs and plants a kiss to your cheek happily. when you open your eyes back up you see him staring at you creepily lovingly

“I really like you (nickname)”

mood: ruined. you groan and stand up. “you’re such a fucking weirdo, get away from me”

you hear percy shout behind you, “hey, you should’ve said that to that girl!”

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

watched that new jennifer lawrence comedy on netflix and like. should we make it steddie?

steve’s a rich kid who grew up having to be self sufficient because of his parents traveling constantly for work. he’s basically a mini adult, but because of that, he sees himself as a lot more mature than the rest of the people his age and by the time he’s ready for college, he’s missed out on a lot of the social milestones that young men his age are experiencing. instead of going to prom, he’d hung out around the house with his weird nerdy band geek best friend having marshmallow eating contests and watching bad rom coms. instead of going to graduation parties, the two of them had built a tent in the harringtons massive backyard and gone night swimming before camping out.

enter his parents, who are less worried abt steve coming out of his shell for his own independence and comfort and more worried that he’ll embarrass them at his ivy league in the fall. there’s been a long line of harrington men attending yale and they’ve paid a lot of money to even get steve a spot there, so if he fucks this up, if he doesn’t join the right clubs and make the right friends, they’re worried it’ll all be a waste.

so they put an ad on craig’s list. eddie and his bandmates are trolling the boards, looking for any odd jobs they can find to try and raise the cash they need to record a demo at the local studio. jeff points it out as a joke and, after laughing at the poor pathetic dweeb whose parents think he’s such a dud they’re trying to set him up with a stranger, they scroll on. but later that night, eddie pulls up the page on his own phone while he’s lying in bed. the offered amount is more than enough to pay for their studio time and then some. eddie calls them and sets a meeting.

when he gets to the harringtons beach house, he’s nervous. he’s a townie and townies are rarely invited into the massive homes that line the shoreline. he knows what he looks like and he knows that the rich tourists who infest the beachside towns every summer tend to steer clear of him when they see him around.

but he needs the money and after meeting with the couple, he thinks this kid probably needs all the help he can get and so he decides to meet their son steve.

turns out steve’s a lot more attractive than he’d imagined and he’s only a couple of years younger than eddie is. he’s also a lot more flirty and charismatic than eddie had assumed. turns out, steve doesn’t lack the ability to make friends or get dates, he just really hasn’t been interested in anyone… at least, not until now.

they hit it off almost immediately. eddie’s never had this much fun with anyone he’s ever tried to date before. steve is funny and smart in very specific ways and his best friend, robin, is a riot. eddie’s not sure how steve’s parents don’t see any of that, but then steve tells him all about how he’d grown up basically alone, how he’d had to make a lot of his own fun growing up, how he’d rarely ever even seen his parents between the ages of 11 and 18. they hadn’t even made it to his high school graduation. steve reveals to eddie that he’s not even sure he wants to go to yale at all, that he only agreed because he’s not sure what else to do.

and eddie tells steve about his dad, abt how he’d gone to jail when eddie was 13, on a job with eddie in tow. he tells steve abt how his mom was heartbroken afterwards, would barely get out of bed to even pick him up from school. he tells steve abt the car accident, the flashing lights of the police car that had picked him up one day and taken him to a foster home before wayne had been called down from upstate to come collect him. wayne had moved out onto the island, trying not to disrupt eddie’s life more than he had to, but prices down here were so much higher and he’d had to work all the time. he’d done so much for eddie and eddie is so grateful… he just wants to pay him back anyway he can.

they reveal things to each other no one else knows and suddenly, as the summers coming to a close, eddie realizes that he’s been falling in love this whole time. but before he can tell steve abt the deal, before he can apologize and come clean and confess his feelings, steve has some kind of massive blowout with his dad. and his dad—in all his anger—tells steve the truth. he tells steve how steve is so pathetic that he and his mom had had to buy him a boyfriend.

steve is, obviously and understandably, beyond devastated. he confronts eddie with tears in his eyes, begging eddie to tell him it isn’t true, that his dad was a liar and he’d just known where to hit him hardest. but eddie can’t deny it. that is how all this started.

eddie doesn’t see steve again, not around town, not at any of their usual haunts, and soon the school year is starting. steve, eddie assumes, has moved into his dorm at yale and is, hopefully, making new friends. by the time thanksgiving break comes around, eddie can finally think about steve with only a tiny ache in his chest. he and the band have recorded their first demo, thanks to that harrington money, complete with the saddest love song eddie’s ever written.

and suddenly steve is there in the bar eddie works at, where he’d been taking steve on their nights out all summer. his brown hair looks extra soft and he’s wearing a quarter zip with the yale logo emblazoned over his heart. they stand there and stare at each other for a moment too long before they both try to speak at the same time.

“no, me first,” steve says, and eddie really can’t deny him this. he’s the one who ruined everything, after all. “what you did to me was terrible.” it’s straightforward and factual, but eddie’s face burns. “you hurt me. a lot.” eddie watches as steve swallows. “i told you things i’ve never said out loud.” eddie opens his mouth to speak, but steve powers through. “but now i’m up in connecticut and i’m meeting all these new people. and some of them are great. but i can’t help but compare them to you. everyone i meet, i think of you. and no one is as fun as you, and no one makes me feel as good. no one sees me like you did.”

eddie’s speechless for a moment, mouth dry. he swallows. steve’s looking at him expectantly. “i was always honest abt how i felt about you, stevie. i really was falling in love with you. or… i mean…” eddie pauses, runs a hand through his hair. “i mean, i love you. i am in love you, like, currently. ongoing. probably in perpetuity which, uh, you know. is like, forever or whatever.”

“yeah?” steve asks softly, a small smile curving on his lips. “forever or whatever?”

eddie can feel himself returning that small smile, nodding. “yeah,” he responds, “ no biggie, though.”

steve laughs. “i kind of disagree. cause i don’t know abt you, but i’ve never been loved in perpetuity before. seems pretty big to me.” eddie shrugs as he watches steve close the distance, smiles widening. “i’m pretty sure i love you too, you know.”

“pretty sure?”

“i’m trying to be a little aloof abt it. not reveal my whole hand too soon.” they’re standing chest to chest now, eddie can feel steve’s breath on his face, they’re so close.

“right. makes sense,” eddie murmurs, staring steve’s wet pink mouth. and then they’re kissing.

and they kiss until gareth comes into the bar for the start of his and eddie’s shared shift and turns the club soda spout on them.

they have a lot to talk abt. but thanksgiving break is a whole week long and after that it’s only two weeks until winter break. eddie has a lot of time to make it all up to steve, in any way he can, in perpetuity.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Really.

req: basically Luke and fem!reader being in a relationship but never actually slept together or in general he never saw her without a shirt or hoodie, because the reader is afraid Luke will be mad or disgusted by the scars on her arms. And the request is Luke's reaction to her scars.

Warnings: self harm scars, talk of self harm, angst to fluff.

MASTERLIST

You were terrified, really. It was in the past, yes, but what if Luke or everyone else in camp found them horrid, disgusting? The thoughts had always lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn’t escape them. You found no solution, so you hid them.

You’d always hidden them from him, anytime you even came close to anything that involved you taking your shirt or hoodie off, you ran the other way, trying to avoid such events from even happening.

It was a secret that had weighed heavily on your heart.

You were training with him, deep in the woods, hidden by all the forage. You smiled when you saw him, him giving you a small smile back.

His sword clashed with your own, you letting out a grunt as you put all your strength into your arm, pushing against him.

“You know,” he started, hitting your sword when you went to attack. “It’s hot as hell out here?”

You huffed, going to attack him again. “Yeah? So what?”

“So, why are you still wearing a hoodie?” He asked you while he disarmed you, your sword falling to the ground.

“It’s not that bad.” You mumbled, bending over to grab your fallen sword. “Plus, I like being comfy-“

“You say that every time.” He tilted his head to the side, his hands folded over his chest, sword training now forgotten.

“Because it’s true.” You groaned, looking at him. “I thought we came here for sword training, not fucking q-and-a.”

“I can’t ask my girlfriend a question now?” He raised his eyebrow.

“You can. Just not when you already know my answer.”

He shrugged, getting back into his fighting stance, you doing the same.

You both continued to spar, nothing out of the ordinary. That was until he knocked you to the ground, you wincing and missing the way that your hoodie sleeve had gone down to your elbow during the fall.

“Sorry, you okay?” He asked you, holding out a hand to help you up, when he noticed some strange marks on your wrists that faced up now. You grabbed your sword, and then grabbed his hand. You stumbled up, brushing off your pants.

“What was that?” He asked you, voice laced with concern, still looking at your now hoodie covered arms.

“That was you kicking my ass.” You snorted, confused as to what he was asking. You followed his gaze to your arm, and your heart skipped a beat. You looked back up to the boy, swallowing.

“No, there- there was marks- like scars, on your arm, y/n. What happened?” He asked, going closer to you.

You tried to laugh it off, play it off like he saw something that wasn’t there. But he knew what tone saw.

“There’s nothing there, Luke.” You spoke. His eyebrows creased at your response.

“I’m not crazy, y/n. What happened? Tell me. Please.” He responded, voice quiet this time, almost a whisper. His hand reached for yours, and he looked up at you.

You knew he was stubborn, and that he wouldn’t stop when it came to you. You tensed as his hands gently went to your sleeves, pulling them up slowly and carefully. His mouth went agape, and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.

He stared for what felt like an eternity, until finally looking up at you, your eyes teary, glossed over. You snapped them shut, body trembling.

“They’re old. I used to…” you sniffled. “Cut myself.”

“Y/n.” He felt like his heart had shattered when you let out a sob. He wrapped his arms around you, letting you sob into his chest.

“Hey, look at me, alright?” He murmured once your sobs had quieted down, his hand going to gently grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared.” You simply replied.

“You were scared of what?”

“That… you would be repulsed by them. Like… they would make you disgusted of me or something.”

He frowned at you, looking into your eyes as he spoke. “Y/n, this wouldn’t ever make me disgusted of you. I don’t think anything can, really.” He murmured, watching you sniffle, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

“Really?” You squeaked out. He nodded. “Really.”

You both stayed like that, in a comfortable silence. You felt the weight lift off of you, no longer burdened by it.

[dorcas4meadowes]

Strawberry Kisses - Luke

Castellan

Pairing: Luke Castellan × Reader

Summary: with a majority of the summer campers away, you and Luke indulged in the quiet through strawberry picking and a picnic date

Warnings: bodies of water, kisses

W/c: 1.5k (I think)

»»———-　　———-««

Sunlight hit Luke's features ever so sweetly, casting a golden halo over his tousled curls. He led you through the paths which were weaved between bushes allowing your fingers to grasp every plump fruit that caught your gaze.

You granted yourself the luxury of becoming distracted admiring the pleasures of the harvest season. You lingered amongst the scent of ripened strawberries and the feeling of dewy warmth, your arms swaying alongside your wicker basket which accommodated very few berries, eating more than you stowed away.

As you gathered the luscious fruits time seemed to slow, savouring the simple moments.

"They’re almost as sweet as you," Luke mused, holding a fruit up to the sunlight before placing it into the basket.

"Any time I believe you couldn't become any more sap you manage to outdo yourself Castellan."

He favoured the way your voice lulled his last name - it was said by many - but your lips managed to make the word seem untouchable. He placed a peck on your cheek before leaning down to twist a berry from a bush, before you too began to discover them hidden behind the copious greenery and flourishing flowers.

Once your container brimmed with red you dispersed from the fields with a smile, taking a detour to your cabin to pick up a larger hamper - filled with sweet delights - and made your way towards a secluded meadow dappled in indirect sunlight.

The perfect sanctuary for a picnic.

You stepped your feet onto the lush grass and escorted Luke towards the lake and laid your chequered blanket beneath the shade of an oak tree, the branches forming a natural shade.

You stretched yourself on the spread, enveloping yourself into the soft murmur of nature and letting tranquillity tug you into a tender embrace.

"Two days." Luke mumbled, noting you of the impending summer break.

"Mm, don't remind me" You said, reaching your fingers to rest in his curls and pull him closer to plant a sweet his on his lips. You left his warmth for a few moments before immediately being tugged back in. "Got something on your mind?" You asked.

"A few things…"

His fingers trailed along your back as if it were a path, your spine a road for his hands which led him to the crease of your knee. He lifted your leg over his own, inviting you to a seat - which you comfortably took - resting your weight against him. His hands slithered to rest in the dip of your curves, taking advantage of his position to brush warm kisses against your jaw and open shoulders. You moved a little to get an "adequate chair", but your actions were evident of what you were attempting, the kisses becoming unsteady and shaky. Your heart began to race in contrast to your slowing thoughts, being consumed in the intensity of your blended emotions.

Then they stopped all together, his head turned from you to find the startled gaze of your close friends – Clarisse and Chris – supposedly on their own adventure.

"Fuck" you mumbled, awkwardly waving to them after tumbling from your boyfriend's lap.

"Why are you waving?" Luke asked

"Maybe they'll go away."

"Piss off Rodriguez!" he yelled across the hill, his sibling swiftly putting his thumbs up before dragging Clarisse away who raised an eyebrow at your commotion.

"Why were they this far away from camp?" you questioned.

"Probably looking for a place to shag." He said bluntly.

After the encounter, you remained "civil" attempting to not scar any more of your companions. You spoke about your plans for when the summer residents would flood back to the camp and the duties you would start. Though, to be bold, Luke couldn't be more uninterested in the stress of a few days, so he pulled his shirt over his head, causing your lips to close and form a smile.

"A swim, while we still can?" He asked, allowing his fingers to snake to your shoulder to slip the strap from your dress. When the support fell, his eyes shamelessly glanced at the bikini which adorned your top, your chest pooling out of the small fabric.

Despite not being the first time he saw you undressed, a flush spread across his cheeks, a similar to the shade of the berries that you picked earlier.

"Swimming's still on, right?" You questioned trying to remain nonchalant, your hand lifting his chin, so his eyes met yours.

"Yeah, yeah," he reconfirmed, his words breathy and diverted.

You slid off your dress and stood, reaching out for his hand to drag him towards the cool tide, your feet stinging from the warmth of the sand which met the shore. Confidence began to seep into your posture as Luke seemed more flustered than he was letting on.

His mind was still preoccupied, so you kicked water at him, creating a war against the sea and the bodies that stood amongst it. You both lingered in the tide and hit one another with gushes of cool until you were fully submerged, gasping for air as your heads rose from the depth of the water.

You turned toward Luke and accepted his outstretched hand which curled around your waist and wrapped under your leg to fold your thighs around his torso. Your chin fell against his shoulder, your arms relaxed around his neck, simply being close to one another.

"Only if we weren't in public…" He muttered, swaying you a little in the water. You weren't in the direct vision of the camp, but this spot was common for wandering satyr's - and Clarisse and Chris - so you kept somewhat disciplined.

"Oh, do tell." You craved as he nipped at the skin below your ear, your legs tightening against him as he whispered sweet - dirty - nothings to you. The familiar all-consuming tension from earlier returned as easily as it left.

He slipped a finger under your jaw to force your eyes to his and you didn't waste time in pressing your lips together. It started gentle - just a press - , but Luke reassured you of how soft his heart truly was for you.

You revelled in the knowledge that only you got to see him like this, so relaxed and pure. Heat took hold and became contagious to Luke, the passion and intensity the two of you shared having no place for the public eye. It’s kept stowed away in the innocent gestures of light, playful touches or holding hands, now it’s revealed itself for what it is.

Inescapable.

No matter how many times the two of you kissed, each time felt different. Each kiss filled with depths of your emotions, that only spilled over when you couldn’t physically contain the heat any longer. He indulged once more before placing a quick kiss to your cheek, dismissing your prying hands and throwing you into the surf and swimming away, leaving you chasing after him.

You stayed in the ocean - quick pecks and swims - until you both grew exhausted and took rest on your blanket, leaving your bodies uncovered for the sun to kiss.

You lay tired and gazed up at the endless sky and let Luke busy himself amongst the flora, slipping many small flowers he had collected into the curvatures of your hair, sliding them into your braids.

And in moments like these you could appreciate what the fates had woven into your future - despite their dreadful manners - beauty could be found amongst the threads and fabrics, the boy beside you covering your life's canvas with an outbreak of stain age.

——————————

If you want to be added to a tag list for Luke fics just comment (requests are open as always)

<33

Master list

[pixiesfz]

I know it’s not the normal thing you write so if you don’t want to then that’s fine! But I’d love a platonic lionesses fic (or just Lucy if you’d prefer) when r is the youngest player on the team and they’re all a bit overprotective of her

love this idea of a young teen lioness!!

plot: y/n's partner breaks up with y/n right before camp

warning: them pronouns are used for partner, and crying, I'm not sure what you should call a warning (also if anyone thinks they wouldn't cry like a bitch when they get broken up with is like wrong)

You stared at your phone as your tears dropped down on the text message that now clouded your brain.

You were sixteen you shouldn't expect your first relationship to be your one and only.

But you loved them.

You read the message again.

'It's really not working y/n'

'I think it's best if we break up'

'I can't deal with this anymore'

You wiped away the tears on your face. Long distance was hard and you were leaving every now and then for your soccer career, you thought they would supported you and they did at first.

Then you stopped ringing each other every night, you were sometimes late to their messages because of training and you even saw on your other friends stories of them at parties talking to other girls.

You tried to convince yourself it wasn't going to happen.

But now it has.

The doorbell went off causing you to jump and drop your phone on the floor "fuck, shit fuck" you grunted out as it hit your foot.

You remembered that Ella and Alessia had decided to pick you up to drive you to camp that day.

You quickly wiped the tears off your face and took a deep breath as the doorbell rang again and Ella's voice could be heard.

"Y/N! for god sakes are you deaf!"

It almost brought a smile to your face before you grabbed your suitcase and walked out of your room and to the front door and opened it.

Alessia was about to ring the doorbell again until you opened the door. "Finally" Ella yelled as you looked down and played with your air pod case.

"I uhm- yeah sorry I was on a call with mum" you said with a soft voice as you were already walking towards the car trying not to make eye contact with any of the girls who thankfully didn't think anything of it.

You were quiet the whole ride which weirded the two girls out usually, you would be talking their ears off and you would all sing along to some Disney song.

Even when you had arrived you quickly hurried off with a quick 'thanks' and went to get changed.

"Somethings off" Alessia said once you were out of earshot "no shit sherlock" Ella replied before they ushered over to Lucy and Keira who had also just arrived.

"Why's the little one running?" Lucy asked as she watched you with furrowed brows "somethings up she didn't talk the entire ride" Alessia explained and Keira's mouth dropped "your kidding" she said and then looked at the doors you had just walked through with worry.

You were in the rooms tying up your shoes when Leah and Beth walked in "hey chicken" Beth smiled and you nodded "Hey Beth" you relied softly, still with your head between your legs.

Leah looked at you weirdly before they walked through the rooms again and collected everyone to start training.

You weren't doing well, even when you first walked onto the pitch you looked into the empty stands where you once ran up to see your ex and hug them after a game-winning goal.

You opted to tell someone but you shook it off, you were just sixteen relationships aren't important and they definitely wouldn't care about it much.

But the more you battled your brain about it the more you kept on stuffing up weather it was a dribble, a tackle or a shot at goal.

It was Mary who noticed first "y/n you good?" she asked as you missed another shot "yeah" you replied as you fought away the tears that tried to slip out just by the goalkeeper asking about your feelings.

She nodded before looking at Leah who shot her brows at her.

You kept on trying to kick some goals and missing or taking easy shots and Mary caught them with ease. You knew what was wrong but you didn't think it would impact your playing skills.

It frustrated you and all the girls were sharing looks about your 'skills'.

When training finished you stayed on the pitch and watched as they all went in, leaving you alone.

You grabbed a ball harshly from the sideline and took it to the penalty line and kicked it.

miss.

kicked it again,

miss.

then again,

post.

You were growing so frustrated as tears now ran down your cheeks and you swore loudly at yourself. You walked up to the ball one more time to grab it but your hand stopped once you reached it as you thought about the texts once more this morning and you let out a choked sob.

You hadn't given yourself time to really cry yet and now it finally caught up to you.

You didn't know that some of the team hadn't left yet as they were worried about you but watched from the top.

"She was funny before training" Alessia explained to Leah who had her hands crossed whilst she watched you try and kick penalties "She didn't look at me at all when I said hi" Beth piped up and Leah tilted her head "She never misses" she muttered.

Lucy noticed the frustration growing on your face "Do you think something happened at home?" she wondered quietly before the girls looked back at her and took it in.

You weren't aware of their eyes on you as you dropped to the floor with the ball and kicked it as hard as you could near the goals which hit the net.

"fuck off" you cried out with your annoyance at the accidental goal and you rolled up your long sleeve to your palms and put them to your face which you cried into.

It wasn't anyone's fault it didn't work out, you tried to tell yourself but you didn't believe it.

You left to pursue soccer, you left them behind.

They were your first love and you're the reason they left.

You were too focused on your own thoughts to hear Lucy running over to you and you were too tired to pry away her arms which were picking you up.

"y/n/n" she said as she turned you around but you found yourself hugging the older girl in comfort. Keira came in next her heart dropping at the sight of you hugging Lucy in tears.

"Y/n what's wrong?" Lucy asked softly as she looked down at you, you sniffed and looked up "they broke up with me this morning" you said and watched Lucy's reaction.

She breathed in before hugging you tighter "it's going to be fine y/n, you'll get through this" she said before Keira beckoned the other girls to come over "we will help you get through this" she said before nodding her head at the girls which were now on the pitch walking towards you.

You let go of Lucy to look at the Lionesses who where worried about you.

"I'm sorry I was shit today at training" you apologized to Leah who scoffed "Oh shut up we only care about if you're okay" she told you and hugged you as well.

"I do have one question though" Lucy said from behind you "what?" you asked

"Can I find them and beat them up?"

"Lucy!" Keira said and smacked her arm which you laughed at.

"Thanks, guys," you said with a smile that wasn't fake, you couldn't believe you lucked out with a team like this.

[neontokyoo]

Hello I saw your post about fic request and I'm here to humbly ask you if you'd write anything with Halsin and a pregnant partner (Tav) after the epilogue party.

@amorgansgal and me both wrote a little something about how he would be at the party and that kinda brought my thoughts back to that whole thing.

I'm thinking some domestic fluff, or maybe how the companions would react, would they visit/ come over to care for the soon-to-be-growing-family, who's gonna be the cool uncle and/ or wine aunt and the likes of that.

Of course I'd also take anything with smut, I'm enthusiastically on board with anything Halsin related :D

Anyway, if you get around to writing a lil something, I'd be very happy! <3

of course! I love my bear-man! This is quite possibly one of my cutest requests I have ever gotten. Hopefully my heart is still functioning in one piece by the time I finish this 😂

Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav Genre: fluff Summary: After finally defeating the Netherbrain Tav finds herself expecting Halsin’s baby. Which, unfortunately, the rest of the party was able to find out about fairly quickly. Warnings: possible mentions of (bear) sex and bg3 spoilers.

Like this post? Join my new community!

Everyone at the party after the final battle knew that there was something different about Tav. They couldn’t quite wrap their heads around it, but they could tell something was going on.

Perhaps it was the extra weight she gained, or the way she waddles when she walks. But they definitely knew something was up. Especially when Halsin was beaming every time he saw Tav, or occasionally wrapping his arms around her waist with his hands resting on her stomach. It wasn’t until then that they realized what it was.

Tav was pregnant.

“Hmm, do you think that the child would come out as a bear or a person?” Astarion snickered. “That sounds like quite the interesting—and painful—delivery for Tav.”

“That’s enough of that.” Gale grumbled, elbowing the vampire’s shoulder. “I highly doubt their offspring will be a bear. Halsin isn’t even completely a bear.”

“No, but he’s a man-bear,” the vampire replied matter-of-factly. “Who knows, maybe they got down and dirty in bear form,” he shrugged, “it’s always a possibility.”

“That’s not a weird way to think about your friends at all,” Shadowheart muttered. “But I’m pretty sure their baby is not going to be a bear. They might not even be a Druid like Halsin is, so the chances of them being a bear are pretty slim.”

“I love how we’re arguing about whether the child is a bear or a person,” Karlach chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Usually it’s an argument about whether it’s a boy or a girl.”

The group continued their banter, only to go completely silent when the couple in question came in to view.

The couple held hands as they talked to each other in the distance, close enough for the group to stop talking so they’re not overheard, but far enough for the group to not hear their conversation.

Tav looked at her boyfriend, laughing to herself as she glanced over at the rest of her companions. “Do you think they know?”

Halsin couldn’t help but smirk as he laughed along with her. “They definitely know about it if they’re arguing over if it’s going to be a bear or not.”

“Then there’s no point in telling them?”

The elf shook his head as he looked at the group with an amused expression, visible fear on their faces as they realized Halsin knew what they were talking about. “No, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

A sudden light blush spread across Tav’s cheeks as the realization hit her. “But how in the nine hells do they know that I fucked you as a bear?!”

Halsin shrugged.

“You guys are just so fucking loud, we could hear the roars from camp!” Astarion shouted, overhearing parts of the conversation as they got closer.

The couple burst out laughing.

“Well, looks like we’ll need to go even deeper into the woods next time.” Halsin chuckled.

“If we go any deeper we might run out of woods!” Tav exclaimed.

Halsin smiled, turning to meet Tav’s gaze as he pulled a strand of hair out of her face and pulled her in for a quick kiss.

“At least we know that it’s not a bear baby.”

Extra headcanons:

The pregnancy was planned and Tav and Halsin have been thinking about it for a long time before they decided it was something they really wanted to do.

Astarion and Gale are constantly fighting over the baby after it’s born.

Karlach, Astarion, and (possibly) Minthara are the rich wine aunts who like to gossip with the kid about all the drama going on in their life as they get older.

Gale, Wyll, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart are the cool uncles who spoil the child and teach them how to defend themselves.

Halsin has a soft spot for girls. I personally just see him being the biggest girl dad.

when the baby was born, Tav and Halsin had to distance themselves from the rest of the party because they were never able to see their child when they had all their companions together.

Gale teaches the child magic.

Lae’zel, Wyll, and Karlach teach the child how to fight.

Astarion teaches them how to sneak around, steal without getting caught, and break into locked doors.

Shadowheart teaches them how to help protect themselves and the people around them

Tav and Halsin try to teach their kid that half of what they’re being taught is not okay. They don’t want their children sneaking around and picking fights 😂

[basicinstnct]

fairytale / leon kennedy

word count: 3323

tags: possessive behavior, abo dynamics, rut/heat cycles, knotting, breeding, hints at yandere, mentions of rape and abuse, alcohol, hazing, smut, fake dating, intimidation

ao3 link: here

summary: you and leon happen to be in the same training squadron. further events pull you even closer.

When you’re told alphas, betas, and omegas train indiscriminately, you wonder whether they’re toughening you up or throwing you to the wolves. But you don’t falter, like you maybe think you should. Ignoring your instincts is something you’ve had to learn, because most of the time they just tell you to run.

They at least do you the favor of rooming you with another omega, one of the few others in your camp. Mostly the training squad consists of alphas, not even closely followed by betas, and both those populations dwarf yours. Nothing close to what it’s like if you walk down the street.

You quickly learn the ropes, courtesy of said roommate, and there’s plenty to know. Don’t go off alone with any alphas. Keep your scent blockers on, maybe even double up. Basically, keep your fucking head down and know your place, but sometimes things feel so tough that you wonder why they put you you here at all.

“And if all that isn’t enough to scare you,” she says after she’s given you the lay of the land, “just watch what happens to the ones who aren’t as smart.”

…

Her words prove true just a few days later. It’s the weekend, and there’s a kickback a few miles off base. You don’t know whose house it is, or even whose party, but a chance to unwind is worth all of that stupidity. Even your roommate agrees.

“Be cautious, yes,” she’d said, eyes locked on her own as she applied her mascara, “but social ostracization isn’t great either.”

When you’re handed a drink, you’re told to keep an eye on it. Not that she needed to say so, but there’s a weird sense of irony keeping your guard up among people you sweat and bleed with every day.

Some of the other cadets are determined to get as fucked as possible, so before midnight hits there’s a drinking game taking place in the middle of the living room. It’s mostly organized by two alphas you recognize to be pretty important in your squadron. In between them is a girl, an omega. Both of the boys have one arm on her, a strong suggestion.

You can’t imagine what they’d smell like that close. It must be suffocating.

“Does this happen often?” You ask your roommate.

“All the time,” she says.

There’s some chatter to explain the stupid rules, beers and sodas and liquors are put in cups, and then it begins. The drinks are thrown back like water, and you can’t help but notice how many of them go down the throat of the young omega, whose face is getting redder and redder as she tries to keep up with people two times her size.

Despite her effort, she still loses the game. Nobody objects as they put her into position for her punishment, an extended keg stand. The handstand drains all color to her face, even as the beer begins to spill from her cheeks, down her face to fall towards the floor. And when it’s over, it’s no surprise that she pukes everything back up.

What is surprising is that when she’s done, they just leave her there, in her vomit. You’re smart enough not to do anything; you’re as bad as everyone else. It’s a smart way to assert dominance in an overarching way. You’re aware that this could easily be you, next weekend or the weekend after that. Your second gender makes it so easy to fall prey to almost anything.

Later on, like everyone else, you watch in silence as the omega runs out the door, until she’s entirely out of view and you can’t hear her cry anymore. You have a strong feeling you won’t be seeing her again. 8 out of every 10 dropouts are omegas, or at least, that’s what they say.

The party doesn’t go on for long after that, the mood tanked by the lingering smell of vomit and pheromones of distress. You end up catching a ride with an older cadet, who your roommate sits across from. When you open the door to get in the backseat you’re a little surprised to see the back of a man’s blond’s head.

You quickly recognize him from training: Leon, an alpha. You also quickly recognize that you don’t know much about him other than that. It isn’t quite obvious that he’d be an alpha either, at least to you.

He doesn’t say anything, other than a noncommittal grunt, but you’re not offended. As much as he tries to mask it, you can smell that he’s somewhat distressed. The alpha behind the wheel must be able to tell too, as he rolls down the windows once you’re on the open road.

“See,” your roommate yells at you over the sound of the wind, before taking another sip of warm beer, “I told you so. Everything I said… the rules…”

“You did,” you reply, but you’re fixed on Leon’s expression. You can’t get the troubledness of it out of your mind. You want to fix it, desperately.

…

Even following all the rules, it doesn’t take long for trouble to find you.

A lot of people hate your Major Krauser, but in particular you hate the way he sounds. An alpha, naturally he has no issue throwing his weight or his power or anything else in his arsenal. He’s got commanding blood running through his body, apparent in his voice when he speaks, but it’s never been aimed at you before, not like this, not at you.

“Do I have to say it again, omega?” You swear you can feel the spittle. “My office, ten minutes.”

It’s not unusual for commanding officers to request the presence of subordinates, but there have been rumors surrounding Krauser that don’t exactly have you wanting to be alone with him. Talk of him requesting favors, forced affection, omegas coming back to the barracks on shaky legs.

You know what a visit to his office means, and you’d rather be a willing lamb to the slaughter than embarrass yourself by fighting.

The corridor to Krauser’s is endless, almost comically so. It feels like fate is a door away, but the feeling seems to disappear as you hear a grunt from a couple yards away. A sound you swear isn’t new to you.

“Krauser, sir.” It’s Leon. Looking at him, hearing him, makes it finally register. He’s an alpha, no different than Krauser.

“Yes, Kennedy?” He seems to be amused, and even with just a throwaway glance you realize something that has your stomach curdling. You’re kind of expected to keep your mouth shut.

Leon’s eyes glance at you, and you find that you understand exactly what he’s trying to do.

Krauser’s buying whatever Leon’s doing. He looks between the two of you, brow arching slightly. “Oh,” he drags out. “I see. She’s yours.” The venom on the last word pulls a shake out of you.

You can feel the sweat on your temples, and your hands twitch with the urge to wipe it away. You bet you look pathetic. You’ve got someone looking out for you and you can’t even speak up to confirm his story.

Krauser tilts his head like he’s pondering fucking Leon over and just taking you anyway. “Have her then, if she’s really yours,” he says finally, suddenly bored with the whole situation like he wasn’t about to knot you over a desk. He gives you a firm pat on the shoulder before shoving you in Kennedy’s direction.

You can’t deny that walking over to Leon feels like crossing a bridge to a better place. Just by the smell of him.

“You should probably let me… y’know, scent you from now on.” Leon says later, when you’re alone. He sounds like he’s asking, but there’s something that in his eyes, intense, determined. It’s in his smell too… Does protection have a smell?

You agree without much argument. It feels right. And some part of you is happy to have someone looking after you. When he moves to touch you you can feel it lighting up, synapses in your brain, and when he lets you go you find you feel a bit woozy. You wonder if he feels it too, this gravitational pull.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, and you agree. It must be the best option.

…

You’ve never been to the rut barracks before, and they certainly don’t have anything like that for you, but when the officer told you he was in rut, and asked if you wanted to do anything about it, you felt obligated. His tone was crooked when he said it, when he teased you about your “nice little relationship, your fairytale.” Did everyone know? He wanted to keep you protected, but how much did he say?

He’s told you stories about how hard training was, that in the beginning it was nothing he would have been able to even dream of before Raccoon City.

Knowing you has helped, you’ll remember the warmth that spread through your body at those words forever, but you try not to think about it too much, because you don’t remember talking to Leon all that much during his early out of training, at all really until he started pretending like you were his.

When you open the door, you can almost feel the heat of Leon’s lust. He’s awake despite the time, in a lounge chair he’s put in the corner in the room. You can tell he’s been sitting in it for hours. Muscled hands cling to the armrests like they’re a lifeline. His eyes are glazed, obviously from the rut, and he makes no attempt to hide the obvious boner he’s sporting. The sight of him like this distracts you from any hesitation you had before, from anything outside the room.

You take just one step, and his eyes lock onto yours impossibly fast. His spine shifts, and he looks somewhat like he does when he’s ready for combat. Leon tries to speak first, but you’re holding your hand up to stop him from getting a word in.

“Shhh,” you feel yourself purr, like you’re approaching a feral animal, which might as well be true. “I know you don’t feel good,” you tell him, “but I can make you feel better. You know I can.”

Your ears feel like they’re underwater but can make out that he’s protesting. He’s saying something about not wanting you to get hurt but you know deep down you won’t feel bad about it, about doing this with him. You have to force his walls away, so you do your best to put out a disarming smell.

“Leon,” you say, holding out your hand.

“You came,” he gasps. He’s warm around you, and his face in your neck feels natural (or maybe more like instinct). He’s trying to be careful with you, barely even moving, but you want him closer. You know he wants to be closer. You wrap your arms around him, and for once allow yourself to really feel his body.

Leon’s form is strong, and this isn’t really much of a surprise to you, but touching it is something else: a different way to know his strength. You drag your hands across every muscle and you know you’ll remember the warmth that spreads through your body for a long time. You feel him sigh, deeply, before his hands grip you a bit tighter and pull you more towards him. “This is ok?” He’s suddenly asking, with a raw voice. But you get the feeling he won’t be asking for long.

“You came to take care of me?” He’s asking, but his eyes are so lidded they seem closed, and his nostrils are flaring like crazy. He’s so worked up, and you haven’t even been with him for five minutes.

You mutter back a shy affirmation, and just to really drive, you pull at his belt. The shudder that goes through him is a reward all its own.

“Ohhh?” He’s almost all over you instantly. He’s warm around you, and his face in your neck feels natural (or maybe more like instinct). He’s still him, still so careful with you, but you want him closer. You bet he always wants to be closer. You wrap your arms around him, and for once allow yourself to really feel his body, like he makes you do when you’re under him.

Leon’s form is strong, and this isn’t really much of a surprise to you, but touching it is something else: a different way to know his strength. You drag your hands across every muscle.

Meanwhile, he’s panting, almost to the point where you can feel his wet saliva. And he’s slurring something you can’t understand, and until two huge hands cup your face and put your forehead to his.

“Ohhh,” he moans shamelessly. “Where are your blockers? I-I’ve never… I always knew you were—but I never got to smell you. But you took them off now, huh? Did you do it for me?”

His pupils are so black, the ice blue ring around them half as piercing, but worse than that is his cock you can feel pressed up against your stomach, almost letting you know how bad he’ll stretch you, before he even gets his knot in. It’s getting you wet, needy.

“Yess,” you hiss as you feel his incisors draw lines down your neck, “for youuuu.”

“You’re gonna let me take care of you? Let me give you my knot, huh?” His words make you buzz. You feel like you’re going to fall into something you can’t get out of.

“I wanna take it, I will,” you’re murmuring like you have a fever. It occurs to you: it’s a strong possibility that his rut will trigger your heat. But that doesn’t seem so bad.

“I heard he was taking you,” Leon’s saying, teeth gritted with the effort not to snarl. You realize the he in question is Krauser, that he’s talking about that day. “I couldn’t let him. Didn’t want him to have you. And he won’t. I’ll take care of you, you’re mine.”

His scent is so strong you feel sick on it. Even when you’ve been with other people you could always smell yourself, but he’s wiped you out.

“How’d you know?” Leon asks, with what seems like his last grain of sanity.

“They told me.”

He laughs but there’s a pain in it, “‘course they did.” He pulls gently at you, leading you towards the bed he’s so far left untouched.

You can tell he wants you badly but he’s trying to be gentle. It crosses your mind to give yourself up to him completely, tell Leon he can do whatever he wants with you. But you aren’t quite sure how that’ll turn out with him so turnt up like this. You still have your guard up, but there’s a part of you that lives to serve.

You do so by ridding him of his clothes, his vest and his cargo pants, and then his briefs, where you can see his cock, leaking and throbbing. You can see hints of the knot he’s gonna make you take.

The sheets are engulfed in his smell. You find out as your body sinks into them with Leon’s weight over you. His eyes seemingly follow every part of you at once. His hands grab at you, at your ass and hips. Before long, he’s undressed you as well.

“Just take me,” you tell him, “I can handle it. I know you need me.” You hope he can feel how you ache for him in return.

Leon hums to himself, but doesn’t obey your request. Instead his fingers prod over to your opening and he moves them through the slick of you. He doesn’t dip them in, and seems content to just play with you, get you even wetter, even with his dick weeping pre onto your thigh. He lets you stir in his arms until you start to beg.

“Leon,” you say, for both of your sake’s, “please.”

“Wait,” he hisses, “just give me a second. You smell so good I could…” he trails off, like he’s not supposed to say it, but you’re not interested in should or shouldn'ts. You need his knot.

“Please,” you beg again, not even aware you’re baring your neck.

Blue eyes lock onto yours for confirmation, and when he finds it he slides his dick in slowly, maybe less so you can get used to it and more so he can see you shake and writhe as you feel just how deep he goes. Without preparing you you’d think it’d feel worse, but you must just want it that badly.

“God, your pussy feels so good,” he says into your ear, when he’s worked himself all the way in. You can feel his balls as he rocks his hips against you before he begins to fuck you. You welcome every part of him, his lips on yours, his hands, and you can feel the base of him getting thicker.

“Can I have it,” you’re shocked at the sound of your whining, “your knot?”

He huffs, “no.”

“What? Why?” You’re desperate for him. He’s warming you from the inside out and he smells so good when he’s close and you feel like you were nothing before this, like the memories of before he made you his will slip away when he makes you come.

“Because,” he gasps as he goes deeper, like he’s shocked it can even feel any better, “I wanna feel you come, please. What do you need? You need it harder?”

Rather than wait for your answer he just tries it, gripping your hips just to pull you back into his cock. Using you because he’s strong enough and you’re letting him and he can. Something in that makes your brain fuzzy, makes you clench around his cock until he’s growling into your neck, giving it to you even harder.

It works, it does make you come, but you still feel needy. You pull Leon closer into all you can feel is him. Your’s mouth’s to his ear.

“Give me it,” you whine. “I know you’re close. I want it.”

“Yeah,” he says like he’s realizing it too. That he’s getting too thick there to keep fucking you like this. “Please, say you want it again.”

“Please,” you cry, “Leon, knot me, please. It’s too much if you don’t.”

He looks at you for a long moment before licking every one of your tears away. Then he fucks you he feels it.

All of you seems to soften when Leon gets caught in your pussy and comes. You can feel him filling you up, warming you from the inside out. Even better than that is the pleasure on his face. His teeth are clenched. You wonder if he’s grinding them so they don’t end up in your neck.

He cuddles you until his knot goes down, and then he bathes you (you didn’t even know there was a full on bathroom), dries you, redresses you. His cock leaks the entire time, but he ignores it in favor of you. You’re scared to say anything about it. You love the way he looks after you.

Later in bed though, you can’t help but ask him. “Why?” you say without naming anything explicitly.

“It feels natural,” Leon says, and you can tell he’s thought about it. “Feels good to give you what you need.” In all this misery it must feel good for him to save someone, rescue someone, and that someone is you.

“And you know what that is?” You can’t help but ponder. It feels uncharacteristic to say, but it also feels like the last chance for either of you to turn back from whatever this is.

“I have to,” it’s the voice of your alpha replying.

[allzelemonz]

Bruises: Arthur Morgan X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 18, Spanking Pronouns: None Mentioned, masculine implication Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: M/Mild sexual themes Warnings: Mentions of violence and injuries sustained, marking, spanking, bruising, fantasizing, masturbation, anal fingering, cuddling, kissing, aftercare, sex put off in favor of cuddling Summary: Arthur loves being put over your knee and this is the longest you’ve been apart. A/N: This was supposed to be an angst day but Arthur decided he deserves better. I didn’t plan on this being as sweet as it turned out, but here we are. Consider this a tooth rotting warning.

Arthur always has bruises. They litter his body from the many times he’s been shot, hit, generally roughed up, or thrown off his horse. Those bruises, he doesn’t like. However, as he stands in front of the hotel mirror he finds himself frowning at the bruises on his ass having faded. Normally when he looks in the mirror he averts his eyes away, not finding himself all that appealing, but he will check to see if his injuries are healing when he can’t see them. It was only his intention to check on a bullet wound after having his bath, but now he knows why he hasn’t been hurting while he sits.

He’ll have to see you when he gets back to camp.

Of course, he’s impatient, touching himself to memories of bending over your knee while he lies in the plush hotel bed. Spanking was something he asked you to do after realizing how much he liked when you gripped at his ass to spread his cheeks or simply knead the muscle. Ever since then, he gets bent over your knee and spanked black and blue at least once a month. The rough fingering that follows is always nice, and exactly why he’s snaked a hand under himself and now struggles to find that nice spot you always manage to get on the first try.

The days that follow his spankings are always sweet and Arthur loves them about as much as the actual sex. You pamper him to say the least, insisting to the gang that their workhorse is due for a break and they back off to give him a lazy day. You fetch him food and water, Arthur only stands to sneak out of his tent with a limp so he can piss. And if you’re not wrapped up in doing Arthur’s chores for him, you fuck him again, this time gentle.

So when Arthur cums onto the soft sheets, he relaxes and smiles at the thought of the next few days.

Camp is busy, bustling even. Arthur hitches his horse and realizes why, the weather is actually nice for once. People are easily going about with their chores, everyone seems in a good mood. But Arthur’s falls when he speaks to Dutch.

“He’s out on a job with Micah, got a stagecoach route they’re spending a few days on.”

Arthur laggingly does his chores, giving half-hearted smiles to people that say hello. It has been a week since he’s seen you, the longest he’s gone without. And ever since you started sharing his little cot, Arthur has found it difficult to even sleep without you. Not to mention, he never likes when you pair up with Micah for jobs. Every time he goes out himself with the crazy bastard, he nearly gets shot, so it makes him worry for you. Not to mention the need, but that hardly matters when Arthur just wants to see you.

He spends the first night lying in his cot for a few hours, eventually deciding to grasp at the picture of the two of you he managed to get developed. He stares at it for a moment, his eyes looking over your somewhat annoyed face in the picture, before his hand digs into his pants and he strokes lazily. He’s not usually this needy, but his fantasies from yesterday being unfullied make him annoyingly hard. The orgasm helps him nod off at least, his dreams turning to nightmares rather quickly and making him get up to change his pants and head off to hunt in the woods around camp to keep his mind busy. He doesn’t want those scenes in his head, every negative thought circling around.

The next day he distracts himself with dominos, shifting in his seat every few seconds to see if he can feel any of those bruises still. He can’t and it irritates him enough to lose to Sean of all people. Then a boasting voice catches his attention.

“Six-hundred, fer the family, Dutchy.” Micah grins, handing the large stack of money over. “An’ a couple jewels an’ such.”

Hosea takes the bags that you hand him, Arthur watching all the while. Dutch puts his hand on your shoulder, giving you a proud smile and a nod before sending you off.

As you walk away, Micah steps closer to Dutch. “Ya proud a’ me?”

Arthur tunes it out, focusing on you instead of Micah’s annoying attempts at sucking up. You find him easily and Arthur excuses himself from Sean and the game to meet you halfway. He takes your hand swiftly, pulling to his tent where he can kiss you like he wants in private. Your lips are chapped and dry but he hardly cares, kissing you hungrily and holding you close.

“What’s that all about, darling?” You smile, your hands resting on Arthur’s hips and making his heart skip.

“Been waitin’ for ya is all.” He sighs, kissing you again.

You stop him after a few seconds. “Go ahead and tell me what you want, Arthur.”

Arthur glances out at camp, finding most people minding their own business. Even Dutch is over by the fire for once, chatting with Hosea. Arthur moves to tug at the fabric of his roof, letting it drop down to cover the sides to enclose you. As he finishes the last tug, he feels your arms around his waist and he relaxes back against you for a moment.

“I want ya ta put me over yer knee.” He says, much less shameful that he’s sounded in the past.

“Bruises healed?” You question, kissing his neck softly.

“Uh-huh.” Arthur hums, turning in your arms to face you. “Need new ones so I ain’t missin’ ya so much.”

You smile, taking his hand in yours and pulling him back with you. You sit on his cot, your legs spread a bit as you pat your knee. Arthur scrambles to undress himself, thankful when he hears the music start up from Dutch’s tent. With his body bare, he situates himself over your lap with his back arched and his ass presented up for you. It’s a position he used to find embarrassing, but with no one to see him he doesn’t particularly care anymore.

He feels your hand run over his cheek, rubbing it softly for a moment before it disappears. Then it returns with a hard slap, making the excess skin jump from the contact. Arthur groans, hardening against your leg as you rub the  presumably reddening skin. You give his other cheek the same treatment and Arthur shivers with every blow. You continue for nearly half an hour and Arthur holds back asking you to stop despite the numbness because he feels so good with the slight sting and the little ruts against your leg.

“Arthur?” You say gently, your hand giving soothing circles on his skin.

He hums, his mind slightly fogged with pleasure and comfort.

“You alright?”

“‘m fine, darlin’… just…” He wiggles his hips slightly, smiling to himself. “Just happy.”

Your hand runs up along his back and Arthur sighs in comfort. He feels so nice, satisfied without being touched or taken.

“Can we lie down…” Arthur mumbles. “‘m tired.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” You say, your hands helping him sit up. “Not in the mood anymore?”

He shakes his head despite the erection he has. “Ya can still fuck me if ya want, darlin’. I don’ wanna disappoint… ‘m just…”

“You don’t have to explain.” You press a kiss to Arthur’s forehead. “I’m happy just to hold you, okay?”

Arthur nods. He moves slowly, laying himself down on his side with his back pressed against the wagon. You follow suit and Arthur melts into your arms, his submissive side coming out even more as he mumbles little thanks and nuzzles your chest.

“You’re gonna get cold.” You mutter and Arthur realizes he’s naked.

When you lie down after sex you both usually put on something to cover your lower halves, but now Arthur lies bare while you’re fully clothed. He knows there’s a blanket folded up on the crates, but he doesn’t want you to leave.

“You can keep me warm, darlin’.” He mutters, hugging you tight. “Don’ leave.”

Arthur knows his words are double edged. He doesn’t want you to leave the bed, he doesn’t want you to leave him alone for so long again. Not just to keep those bruises he likes, but because he can’t handle it when you’re gone for so long. So he hides his smile against your chest when you kiss his head.

“I won’t.”

[nebulaafterdark]

Can I get something Aegon x Velaryon(Strong) reader where she is his betroth but when he wears the crown she takes side with her mother. Rhaenyra annuls the betrothal and betrothes reader with Cregan Stark. Reader goes to Storm’s End with Luke to gain support. Well the rest is like in the show but Aemond takes her to King’s Landing forcefully after he kills her brother and when Aegon learns she’s betrothed with Cregan he weds her and makes her his queen no matter how much she resist. If you are uncomfortable you don’t have to make it yandere or dobcon/noncon. There can be smut or something else it doesn’t matter. I trust your imagination. I really love your Aegon x Velaryon(Strong) reader theme. There is no enough content in Tumblr about Aegon x niece!reader. Most Aegon contents are about Aegon x sister!reader and those contents doesn’t fulfill my thirst for enemies to lovers plot.

I love it! Enemies to lovers just hits different. But I feel they’re more like frienemies to start. Aegon definitely pulled her hair as a kid and if anyone hurt her (besides him) may the gods give them rest lmao. Let’s get into it 💜

Storm’s End

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

Warning: Targcest, Yandere!Aegon, dark subject matter, mentions of sex, themes of non/dubcon.

Storm’s End. Not a place Aegon’s given much thought to, until now.

Storm’s End. Where the new ruling King sends his brother, Aemond, to retrieve what is his. His half sister’s sweet daughter, Y/N.

Not so long ago they had been betrothed. Before Viserys died and any semblance of ‘family’ shattered. Y/N chose her mother, because she always did.

‘I am no more or less than a vessel tossed about to create the illusion of peace. As my mother’s eldest child, I go willingly, to protect that which come after me.’

That’s what she’d told him. So it came as no surprise when Aegon learned Rhaenyra had betrothed Y/N to Cregan Stark instead. It stung a bit at first, Y/N was the only person he’d bothered getting to know. Unlike his family, affections for him were not guaranteed. Unlike the whores from the pleasure house, she was not required to give him time of day; only to wed him and bear his heirs.

It is no secret that Aegon is intrigued by the Princess. He spent most of his days imagining where she would fit into his life, what their children would look like, how his cock would feel stuffed inside every hole she had. Perhaps it was wrong, perverse at the very least. But so long as she was his no one could stop it. No one would dare.

When word comes that Rhaenyra’s camp has begun flying about the realm, trying to steal his throne, Aegon sees his opportunity and he seizes it. But from the sound of his future Queen, all but growling like a caged animal, something must have gone amiss.

Aemond enters the room, with Y/N kicking and swinging at him, as they go.

“Get your hands off me, you fucking traitor.” Y/N demands, tossing her head back against Aemond with enough force to dislodge his nose.

“Quiet, bastard!” He seethes, shoving her toward his brother to tend his bleeding.

“I told you I wanted her unharmed.” Aegon rushes to Y/N, taking her around the waist. Partly to comfort, mostly to restrain. Her dark hair falls carelessly about her, escaping from the braid trailing down her back. Her cheeks stained with tears, nose running unabashedly. She is inconsolable.

“She did not come easy.” Aemond informs him, through gritted teeth.

“I wouldn’t go anywhere with you, murderer!” Y/N jerks in his arms, lunging for Aemond as best she can.

“What’s she on about?” Aegon demands, attempting to gentle her to no avail.

“He killed my brother.” Y/N wails, the words wrenching from her throat in an inhuman manner.

“Lucerys owed me a debt.” Aemond half smirks.

“He was a baby.” Y/N cries, “he was just a little boy.”

“Leave us,” Aegon commands.

Aemond nods, clearing the room with the other occupants, until only the King and his Queen remain.

Y/N continues to fight against Aegon, wrestling him to the ground.

“Stop it,” Aegon huffs. His body lying over hers, restraining her hands with his own.

Y/N rears back, spitting in his face.

“Oh my dearest love,” he chuckles, “I’ve missed you too.”

Y/N clunks the back of her skull into the stone floor of the throne room. “Kill me,” she pleads, “do it and be done with it.”

“Shhh,” Aegon frowns, “I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to make you my Queen.”

“No,” she shakes her head.

“Wed you in the tradition of our house and Old Valyria, bind our blood forever. Fuck you full of my children. Tear the Seven Kingdoms apart and rebuild them in your image.”

Y/N lets out a sob. “Please, Aegon. Let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll say you helped me escape.”

Aegon click his tongue at her. Leaning down to her ear, “if I can’t have you, no one will.”

————————————————————————

However improper, Aegon is the one to prepare her for their ceremony. Trickling warm water from the bath over the delicate features of her face.

“Lean up, I’ll wash your hair.” Aegon taps her chin with his forefinger.

Y/N shifts forward, curling in on herself, knees to chest. Arms wrapped tightly around them. “Why are you doing this, Aegon.” Her voice is tired, drained as her body.

It isn’t love, it’s too dark, too selfish, too one sided. It isn’t lust, for he wants more than her body. He hungers for her mind, her soul, to become one in every way. Thoughts of her are all consuming. “Because you’re mine.”

“I’m nothing special. Plain featured bastard at best, by all accounts of your mother.”

“I do not find you plain.” Aegon dampens her locks, smoothing through knotted pieces with his fingers. The dark hair he’s yearned to stroke softly in comfortable silence, to brush sweat damp from her skin as he fucks her.

Y/N peers over at him slowly. Here she has the King on his knees, tending her like a prized possession. She would have married him willingly, in another life. She would have loved him. Instead he chose the crown over her. And she chose her mother over him.

He washes and dries her with a devotion Y/N has never known. Helping her dress in the customary gown.

She is not allowed to leave his side until they are wed before the eyes of thousands. Sliding the blade of her late grandsire’s knife over her palm, pressing it to Aegon’s. Allowing their blood to mingle, seeping into the gauntlet between them.

Y/N feels nothing, not the bite of the blade. Nor the split of her lip, the cool metal of her crown. She is Queen. Traitor to her poor mother who has lost her son. Does she know? Y/N wonders as Aegon reels her in for a kiss. Lapping at the cut on her bottom lip, which matches his own. Does my mother know I’ve betrayed her?

Y/N was always meant to be Queen, one day when Rhaenyra was cold and in her grave. Not now, as she lives and breathes. Does she think I’m dead too?

The bedding ceremony is customary. Y/N goes quietly, draping herself dutifully over the mattress, praying that Aegon is quick about it.

Perhaps he does love her with all the pieces of his decrepit heart. Perhaps she does love him with the fragments of her own. But does it truly matter if this is all they have to show for it? Put on display for the small council as they make love for the first time. To breed children who will feed back and repeat the same jaded cycle.

The sound this thought wretches from Y/N causes Aegon to falter and uncomfortable shifting in the viewing gallery. “I am sorry, sweet girl.” He squeezes her fingers in his.

Had he always been holding her hand?

A lifetime passes in that room and yet no time at all. When it is done the crowd clears; they are alone. Y/N cries, Aegon does too.

If only she and Luce had been sent elsewhere that day. Anywhere but Storm’s End.

“I’m going to get you out of here.” Aegon whispers, stroking her hair with an affection he shouldn’t be capable of. “We’re going to steal away on a ship, sail away, never to return.”

Y/N curls her fist against his chest. “Why would you do that for me?”

“I never wanted this,” he breathes. Not the crown, not the stupid chair. “I wanted you.”

Cregan Stark might have been nice. He might have been a better ally to their cause. In time, he might have come to care for her. But Cregan wouldn’t scour the narrow sea in search of her. Aegon would.

Part 2

Part 2