#who’s into this? go away this was supposed to be my saving Grace

[beastwars-transformers]

Not to be like that but I do not understand why I get hit on it has to be some kind of joke

[simplegenius042]

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[dropsnectar]

When The Dragon Saves You from the Prince

Dragon x gn!reader

NSFW

So it looks like this turned into something a little longer than a drabble. I was going to wait a week until my poll finished but got impatient. So! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

You knew as one of noble birth, the child of a Duke, that you would eventually be married off to the highest bidder. That's just how marriage was for the nobility. However, you hadn’t expected your loving parents to set up an engagement with an infamously rakish and daft prince. 

You hated the man. Whatever was supposed to be going on between his ears, was judged by that thing between his legs. When he had first met you, he had leveled with you that his reputation was true, and that expecting him to be faithful would be like asking water not to be wet.

Happy to have an excuse not to touch him, you basically ignored the man up until a week to the wedding. One afternoon his father the King had decided the two of you needed to look chummier, so he sent you off on a joint hunting trip with a few nobles. Of course, what you didn’t know was that these nobles were friends of his royal dumbass. 

They spent the whole time mocking your dukedom, and making salacious comments about your body and wedding night. Of course, your idiotic fiance only laughed at your expense, making comments of his own. 

To your own credit, you had handled their buffoonery with grace and wit. At one point, one of your barbed replies had actually struck a chord with one of the nobles, realization dawning on his face. He came off his horse and smacked you with all of his might. Too weak a man for a punch, he had gotten a solid hit on you, and you felt your eye heat and swell. Not good. The atmosphere had gone from snide joy, to predatory. 

The Prince himself got off his horse and stalked forward and pulled you by the hair down to the ground in front of his friends. They demanded to be repaid for the hurt done to them.

“I’m sure your pretty little mouth can be put to better use.” The Prince laughed, and he and his friends started to undress themselves.

That's when a loud, earsplitting screech hurtled through the air. A loud thumping and suddenly a large green dragon with large spikes started stampeding towards the group. He bucked aside the nobles, sending them and their horses running. Your fiance tried his best to pull up his pants, as he reached for his sword, but was unable to do either successfully. The dragon had stopped and stood tall before him, nostrils flaring. A pair of molten eyes stared him down, as if to challenge him. Of course, faced between defending you and running, he chose the latter. 

You couldn’t see the Dragon above you well, on account of the swelling in your eye and the hard pulsing headache that had started to vibrate through your head. The Dragon didn’t move, just stared at you as you blacked out.

***

When you came to you were warm. You opened your eyes to find yourself in a small room seemingly carved out of stone. There was a doorway with no door, that when you traveled through, brought you to a large cavern with high ceilings. You were surprised to find furniture, shelves filled with books, a large wooden desk filled with parchment and ink. 

“You are awake.”

You were startled to find yourself facing a being. He looked somewhat human, but the angles of his jaw, elbows and fingers were inhumanly sharp. His arms were covered in green scales, as well as his webbed ears, giving him away. When he spoke again you could see his sharp canines. He asked about the pain in your head. You admitted to feeling fine and he nodded. You had apparently gotten a concussion. 

The Dragon, who revealed his name to be Reix, explained that he had been exploring his new territory when he had felt evil and human pain radiating from where you had been staying. The land had recently been gifted to him by the king in exchange for his help in finding a cure for an elf and human disease that had run rampant for the last decade. He had taken it as his summer home, and was happy to find your health well.

You were surprised by his poised and friendly demeanor. You had heard that dragons were wild beasts, who occasionally took human form to steal treasure. You thanked him for his help, even if it was for not. You explained that the man had been the prince, and your fiance at that. You would not be able to escape him, even with your influence as a duke's child. 

“If you have nowhere to stay, you may stay here. It may not compare to an ornate palace, but I can assure you it will be better than what you would have to go home to.” 

Choose between a roaring evil monster and a kind, thoughtful being? Of course you were going with the dragon.

As the days went on you learned more about Reix, his character and his interest. He was the quiet studious type who prized his books over anything else. He even kept ancient first editions of many popular novels, some even with signatures. He also had some antique memorabilia, some keys from a printing press from his mothers favorite publishing company, a bookmark from a late saintess who he had befriended long ago. He showed you all his favorite books, nonfiction and fiction. You were even surprised to find that he enjoyed the occasional romance. 

“Why, Sir Dragon, are you perhaps a romantic?” You teased. He looked at you with pursed lips and a faint blush.

“I am not so cold that I can’t be moved by a good story. After all, most people experience it once or twice in their life. Love that is.”

The two of you had been fast friends, bonding over shared interests. You spent weeks, months like this. He would hunt or go out to town for your meals. He taught you how to cook. You were terrible at it at first, but he eventually learned to trust you to make omelets, and the famous everything soup. He was an incredible cook too, and he seemed to enjoy sharing recipes and meals with you. You couldn’t help but notice the occasional fond glances he’d send your way. 

You had to admit, you weren’t unaffected by his presence either. You noticed how strong the muscles of his arms were as he reached up to retrieve a book from the top shelf for you. His glowing hazel eyes always looked at you with respect and reverence. No one had ever looked at you like that before. And you had to admit you had never met a kinder person than him. You loved his smile,how his teeth tended to stick out as he spoke to you.

You were the one to make the first move. Reix had been sitting on the couch, reading in his usual way, when you cuddled right up next to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder and covered your lap and feet with a blanket, as if to nap. He was stiff at first but eventually relaxed into you. You started to do this at every opportunity and you would notice that he would now forgo his study chair for the couch. Neither of you ever said anything about it, but you two never missed an afternoon cuddle.

One day, Reix sat you down, his limbs twitchy and expression solemn. 

“I will be straight with you. My species goes through something called a heat a few times every year. Mine is nearing, so I will be traveling to my home up north for a week.” He bit his lip before continuing. “But do not worry, I will stock the pantry and make sure you are as comfortable as possible while I’m… gone.”

A heat? You had read enough smutty novels to know what that was. The thought made your heart beat hard in your chest and a warmness pool in your gut. Well. Right now was as good of a time as any.

“What if I wanted you to stay?” You enunciated slowly. Reix frowned at you.

“You do not understand, I will not be myself. I will be like an animal. I won't be able to control my instincts.” He stared at you with big watery eyes.

You walked towards his chair and knelt at his feet, taking his hands into yours. 

“I will take all of you, if you let me.” You then pulled his hands up to your cheeks, forcing him to cradle your face. The two of you held each other's gaze for a long time, the tension palpable. 

When he kissed you, it didn’t taste sweet, like his words always were. His breath was fire, after all. The two of you burned up together.

***

You were wretched out of sleep by the feeling of rubbing on your ass. Strong arms gripped your waist, and you felt his ragged breath in your ear, moans sputtered from his lips, whispers of,”I’m sorry.” More groaning, “You feel so good…ahh!” And he came all over your nightgown. 

But this didn’t seem to sate him at all, as he continued to rub himself into the curve of your asscheeks, slick of him coating you and dripping down to your entrance. He seemed to realize you were awake because his voice increased in volume.

“Please. You promised…” He moaned out as he went from fucking your ass to plunging himself in between the plush of your thighs. The change in texture seemed to get him going as his speed started to increase. Much to his annoyance you turned around. He hated having to go even a second without his dick touching you, and you pulled him into a hot passionate kiss.

His mouth devoured you hungrily, arms now roaming the lines of your body. His eyes were glazed over in lust as he reached his head down to suck on your nipples, trying to get you sufficiently worked up. When he was close again, he brought dick up to your entrance, pushing in just the tip as he came. His hot cum slid into you, prepping you for what was to come next. You clenched around nothing, and started grinding on his dick, needing to take more of his length. 

He took you in one harsh thrust. You hadn’t seen what he had looked like before, but you could tell that his dick must have been an unusual shape. The ridges of his dick dragged deliciously against your walls, making you drool. He was so big it was a painful stretch. But you were nobility, and nobility took the long and hard things in life and made it work for them.

You reached your hand down and felt the part of him that wasn’t inside you and slowly started pumping, enjoying the soft, yet firm texture of him. He slowed his thrusting, suddenly overcome by how you were making him feel. The duality of your hands on him and being inside you made him want to scream out. His good little noble felt divine. He was having a spiritual awakening right there in your bedroom, as he got closer and closer to release. 

Eventually you had gotten used to the feeling of him and started rocking your hips in time with his strokes. The delectable friction he was giving you was building up inside you, a hot fiery pit about to explode. Your Reix’s gaze was full of devotion and need, but the way one of his hands gently came up to cup your cheeks made you burn. Even now, when he was ravaging you like the wild beast everyone assumed he was, he still treasured you.

You came hard around his girth, crying out as white hot pleasure pushed its way from your core to your fingertips. Reix soon followed after, unleashing another impossibly large load of his wetness within you. He slowed his minstrations and pulled out, going back to fucking your thighs until you were properly recovered enough to take him again. And take him you did, all through the night and the following day. 

When his heat had cooled, he brought you fruits, cheeses and bread, taking small bites and feeding it to you, as you were too exhausted to do so yourself. He seemed to take great joy in this as his normal small smile was blinding as he cared for you. He pulled you up and the two of you took a bath. He made sure to wipe you down first, every swipe of his rag gentle as he worshiped you with his glowing eyes. When he was done, he added more heat to the water and joined you, settling you down between his legs as he held your back to his chest.

You rested in silence for awhile, enjoying the warmth of the water and each others skin. 

“We should do something about that fiance of yours. Mind if I eat him?” He was playing with the damp curls of your hair, relishing in the texture. You smiled up at him.

“You don’t know where he's been. You could catch something. But I do have an idea. If you are up for it that is.” 

“For you, I would do anything.”

You smiled. Your father was next in line for the throne after the prince. Reix was a gentle giant most of the time, but you couldn’t help but think what a dashing and benevolent prince he would make.

[palioom]

little dove

summary: your first attendance of a huge feast is bothersome, alone and inexperienced as you are. until the eyes of a certain prince won't stop following you.

pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader

word count: 4.5k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; virginity/innocence kink; implied age gap (oberyn is in his early 40s, reader early 20s); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some biting

a/n: another fic from last summer, hope you enjoy! ; headers & dividers by @/saradika-graphics

follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates

• masterlist •

Oberyn had been watching her all night already, his dark eyes following the shape of her wherever she went. Between the bustle of the people, her bright orange glowing dress like the sun, rising and settling as she appeared and disappeared, standing around like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

It was adorable, a smirk gracing his features as he watched her wring her hands, smiling sheepishly when someone approached her. 

So innocent.

He could see the nervousness on her face from where he sat, the uncertainty, clearly not used to people approaching her.

He could see the heavy rise and fall of her chest, exposed by the deep cut of her garments.

Taking another sip of his wine, Oberyn stood, deciding now was his time.

The festivities had been going on for a while, and even though he had planned on celebrating with a group of people in his bedchambers later, she had thrown those plans into the wind the second he set sight on her.

Something just intrigued him, maybe it was the innocence she seemed to harbour, maybe it was her beauty.

Whatever it was, he had to know more, waiving away another woman that approached him with a polite smile, then walking over to the mysterious woman.

She looked around nervously, playing with the rings on her hands as people passed by her, some stopping to talk to her.

Feeling incredibly out of place at this feast, her first big one, she didn't quite know what to do. Her parents were somewhere, as were her siblings.

The lords trying to speak to her made her feel uneasy, knowing she was supposed to find a possible suitor at some point, but wanting nothing more than to flee this place.

In fact, she was thinking about just leaving, when she was approached again.

Tall, dark haired and handsome. The Prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell.

She had seen him at his table, stealing a glance every once in a while and looking away when his dark eyes caught hers.

And now he stood in front of her, flashing her a wide smile.

“My Prince.” She said, curtsying as well as she could, perhaps a little clumsily. 

Out of everything she had expected to happen today, she did not expect for him to approach her.

“Do you intend to sulk in the shadows all night, my dove?”

She blinked up at him, once again playing with the rings on her fingers.

“I have not been sulking.” A frown graced her face, a slight tremble in her voice. His presence was intimidating, but different from the other people who had approached her. “I have been observing.”

Oberyn chuckled, taking a small step closer to her, watching her step back just a little in return. So close to her, he could practically feel the nervosity radiating off of her, trying to hold eye contact before they moved away again, looking at anything but him.

“Observing by turning down all lords and ladies who approach you?” He said, watching her fingers stop for just a moment, as if she had been caught, before fiddling with her rings again. “I must admit, I have been watching you for a while - you are the only lady not dancing, not talking to anyone. Just standing in your corner, sometimes moving to follow the servants for a drink or something to eat.”

She stayed quiet. Had she been that noticeable? Just by standing around, hoping for a saving grace?

“I assume this to be your first attendance at a feast this big, am I correct, my dove?”

That nickname.

It made her feel warm, a different kind of warmth than the Dornish weather. Running through her in an unfamiliar fashion, her veins like molten metal, a strange feeling moving up her spine..

“Yes, my Prince.” She said, nodding, but not looking at him.

Oberyn noticed how she became more nervous, smirking at the display in front of him.

“My parents have kept me from them for long, I was only ever allowed to attend small ones.” She continued, sighing. “It is quite overwhelming. I am inexperienced in these kinds of things.”

Her words made him inhale sharply through his nose, still smiling.

If she was inexperienced in this, what else was she inexperienced in?

He had wanted her before, but now the desire for her burned even brighter. Oberyn wanted to show her the things her parents have undoubtedly sheltered her from.

To keep their daughter pure for a potential suitor.

“I understand, my dove. Would you perhaps allow me to accompany you to a place more quiet?”

Usually, he did not beat around the bush when it came to a potential partner for the night.

But it was different with her. If he was blunt he would simply chase her away.

She didn’t look at him, thinking about his question.

All the other men and women that had asked before had made her feel uneasy. Unsure why they wanted to whisk her away, promising a better night someplace else.

But the Prince of Dorne? He made her feel different. A heat and a pressure in her abdomen that she never felt before.

She knew of the rumours, that he took many partners, for whatever they did. Yet, as he stood in front of her, charming smile and good looks, she felt herself drawn to him.

Oberyn reached out, placing a finger under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “I asked you a question, my dove.”

His fingers on her chin made her still, just looking up at him with her big eyes, lips slightly parted. The touch made that pressure worse, breath hitching in her throat.

“My Prince, I’m-” She stumbled over her words, unsure what to answer.

He just chuckled, a sigh leaving him. “You are quite easily flustered, my dove. Come with me, please.”

Holding out his arm for her to take, he hoped she would. Such an innocent, pretty thing. There was something so endearing about the way she was behaving.

She swallowed hard, looking from his face to his arm, hesitating for a moment. Something drew her to him, and after another moment, she hooked her arm into his with a nervous smile.

Oberyn walked her away from the feast, the noises dying down behind them as they walked the long corridors.

“What did the other lords and ladies ask of you, my dove?” 

She sighed, glad to be away from the bustle in the halls, but feeling uncertain now, a throbbing at the apex of her thighs distracting her.

“They wished to take me away for some fun. I’m unsure what they meant exactly.” She didn’t look at him, too nervous to meet his dark, piercing eyes. 

It was intimidating, she had never been in the presence of a man other than her father or her brothers alone. She knew how to behave, for the most part, but nonetheless was it a little scary.

Oberyn smirked, looking down to her, seeing how she only stared at the floor or ahead of them. 

“You did not know what they were implying?” He asked, a bit amused but genuinely curious. “My little dove, you must be younger than I thought or your parents simply were too careless with your education.”

She remained quiet, her cheeks growing hot. 

A sense of shame washed over her, that he thought she was too young. It was as if her friends were with her, giggling and whispering because of something she didn’t understand.

And when she asked, they never explained, finding it too amusing to laugh and belittle her.

There was something she was missing out on, and she hated not knowing what.

“My dove, you do not have to be ashamed.” He said, his other hand coming to gently rest on hers. “If you wish, I could show you.”

He had been right about the assumptions of her being a virgin, too innocent for her own good.

Walking next to her, he felt something else besides the desire for her, a need to protect.

As if he was the only one allowed to show her, that anyone else would simply take advantage of this fact.

Now her eyes met his, brows furrowed. 

“Show me?” She echoed his words. “How? What exactly?”

Oberyn just smiled, eyes leaving hers to look at the guards standing by the door of his chambers.

He stopped, not too far away from the door, looking back at her.

“Do you wish for me to show you, my dove?” He asked, brushing back a strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. “If not, I understand.”

She should be wary. Despite him being the Prince of Dorne, she should think about this. But she was curious, so curious about what this thing was that she had been missing out on.

And there was still that feeling inside of her.

“Yes, my Prince.” She said with a small nod. “I am curious, please.”

He chuckled, his knuckles brushing over her cheek. “Please, call me Oberyn, my dove.”

Moving along, the guards allowed them to enter, the heavy door falling shut behind them. Oberyn let go of her arm, walking over to a table to pour himself some wine, then offering her a cup.

She took it with a small nod, taking in his quarters. They were richly decorated, the bed massive.

Just how she would imagine it, if she had ever spent time on that before meeting him.

Taking a sip of her wine, Oberyn laid a hand on her waist with a gentle smile, pulling her closer to him.

“Most people stare when they first come here.” He said, his hand wandering up and down her side. “Don’t be nervous, little dove.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. That was easier said than done, the heat inside her becoming unbearable at this point.

His hand on her side felt like it was burning her, even through the thin fabric of her gown. Like it was hot coals placed on her.

“Have you ever been kissed, my dove?” He asked suddenly, eyes searching hers. Pulling her just a little closer to him.

She shook her head no, slowly. Heart beating in her throat, he was so close to her. 

She could feel the warmth of him, twirling the cup of wine in her hand.

“Would you allow me to?”

There was some hesitation inside her, her hands stilling. Should she allow him to? She wanted to, somehow.

Often had she imagined what it felt like, kissing someone.

Her answer came in the form of a nod, her head barely moving.

Oberyn smiled, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

“Oh, my little dove.”

Despite his growing desire, he moved gently, bending down to place his lips onto hers. The small gasp that left her made him chuckle, his other hand coming to rest on her hip and pull her hips flush against his.

She stiffened beneath his touch, liking the way his lips felt on hers, surprisingly soft, while his beard and moustache tickled her skin. Holding onto her cup tightly, she closed her eyes, humming when he deepened the kiss and she tried to match his movements, clumsy and inexperienced.

When he parted from her, she chased after him, opening her eyes when she couldn’t. Oberyn laughed at that, staying close to her, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

She looked adorable, the way she greedily breathed in air, lips slightly parted. Still too nervous, too stiff.

“What do you think, my dove?” He asked, leaning closer again so their noses were almost touching. “Would you like for me to show you more? There is quite an array of things I could assist you with.”

His fingers curled into her hip, and when she nodded, he only smiled wider.

“I promise to be gentle, my dove. A beauty such as you needs to be handled with care.”

She didn’t know what he meant, but it didn’t matter, because as soon as he kissed her again, more eager this time, her mind went blank.

His hand briefly left her hip to take the cup from her hands, placing it on the table next to them, before it was back, pulling her against his chest and making her gasp.

Letting his tongue glide against hers at the opportunity, Oberyn heard her muffled moan, relishing in the sweet sound.

The way she tried to kiss him back was delightful, so tender and new, trying to keep up with him.

Slowly he manoeuvred her back towards the bed, having to hold onto her waist as her steps became unsure, stumbling backwards once, her cheeks glowing even hotter.

The throbbing only became more intense, and when they reached the bed and he gently pushed her to sit at the foot of it, she squeezed her thighs together, looking for relief.

There was a wetness now that felt foreign to her.

Oberyn noticed, amused at the display.

“Are you aching, my dove?” He asked, his hands coming to the belt tied around his waist.

Aching.

It did hurt, but in a different way. Not like a bruise or a cut.

She nodded. “A little. My Prince- Oberyn, what- I don’t understand what is happening.”

Poor thing. Her parents had done a horrible job to prepare their daughter.

To leave her in the dark at such an age.

She watched him undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor before motioning for her to move further back to the middle of the bed.

“You’re aroused, my dove. You feel the need for cock.” He explained, shedding his robe, then crawling over her. “Have you seen a cock before, little dove?”

Her mouth went dry as she watched him undress, now only clad in a dark orange tunic and his breeches. 

Aroused.

Of course. But was she really aroused by him? In need of his cock?

She nodded, and she could see a flash of surprise grace his features. 

“In the bathhouses, yes.” She tried to hold his gaze, now hovering over her and letting his hand glide down her side. “From afar.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her cheek, then her neck, hearing the breathy moan spill from her lips, feeling her back arch slightly.

“In the bathhouses…” He repeated in a whisper, still some amusement in his voice. “Yet you don’t know a thing about this… about desire and fucking.”

The word felt vulgar, so close to her ear.

And she felt embarrassed again. That she didn’t know more, that she didn’t understand she was aroused just by him being near her, by him kissing her, by him hovering over her.

“Do you want me to show you, my dove? The thrill of desire?” He asked, still mouthing along her neck, gently, just feeling her as she squirmed, her own hands coming to rest on his broad shoulders. “How to fuck?”

Her breath hitched in her throat when he sucked at the junction of her neck and shoulder, a throaty moan leaving her.

“I- I do not know, Oberyn.” She stammered, fingers digging into his shoulders. The throbbing and the pressure were distracting her, just needing relief. “It hurts, it really hurts.”

His hand moved lower, down her side and to her thigh, gathering her skirts before it dipped below them.

“I can help you, my dove.” His hand wandered between her thighs, finding her dripping already, a soft sound escaping him at the feeling. “Oh, my dove. Wet and gushing like a waterfall and I have barely touched you.”

He sounded pitying almost, his fingers slipping between her folds, raising his head to watch her face when he found her clit.

A hiss left her, looking at him with wide eyes at the foreign feeling. It felt good, strange but good.

“Have you never touched yourself before? Brought yourself to the peak of pleasure?” He asked, drawing slow circles into her clit, with featherlight touches. 

She shook her head, trying to keep her eyes open, her legs opening further.

“Never, I didn’t know-”

“You poor thing.” He cooed, kissing her. 

When his fingers left her again, she whined in protest, one of her hands reaching out to grab his wrist. 

She didn’t even really know what was happening, simply that his touch felt good and that she wanted more.

Needed more.

The burning sensation inside her was so consuming and overwhelming while also hurting her.

“Oberyn, please, continue.” She said, guiding his hand back down but he escaped her grasp. 

“Do you know anything about this, my dove? About fucking, the feeling of something stretching you open? Feeling somebody’s naked skin against yours?”

Stretching her open? It sounded painful, she couldn’t imagine how anything could do that, and where.

But she didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to embarrass herself further.

She shook her head again. “No, I don’t.”

He chuckled, his hand coming up to tug one of the straps of her gown down her shoulder, then further down her arm, exposing her breast.

“My little dove, so innocent, so pure.” A sigh left him, watching her face as he touched her breast, just lightly brushing over the hardened nipple. Nothing could have prepared him for just how much her innocence spurred him on. “I will take care of you, just allow me to do so.”

“Please, please, Oberyn.” She whined, desperate. His hand felt good on her, back arching off the bed and into his touch, her head thrown back as she closed her eyes.

This was what she had missed out on, something so good and intense. If only he could touch her again.

Slowly Oberyn undressed her, slipping the garment down her body and kissing each inch of newly uncovered skin. Taking in how she whined and moaned, took in a sharp breath or hissed at the sensation.

She felt exposed, once he sat back and pulled the gown down her legs, his dark eyes raking over her naked form as she laid before him, resisting the urge to cover herself.

So sweet and pure. And he would be the one to ruin her, to taint her beautiful body.

Thank the Gods it was him and not someone else.

“So pretty.” He said, a hand gliding up and down her thigh, the other working open his tunic. “My little dove, all for me to enjoy. I shall show you the heights of pleasure.”

She watched as he shed the garment, exposing his toned torso, the muscles under his skin moving. She was mesmerized, despite having seen this so many times at the bathhouses, when she came to find her siblings or her parents.

His hands moved down to his breeches, opening them just as slowly as he had done with the rest of his clothing.

“It seems as if my little dove has found something she likes.” He chuckled, shedding the last piece of clothing, kneeling between her spread legs, just as exposed as she was.

Cock heavy and throbbing, her eyes were fixed on it.

It was bigger than what she had seen before. But she didn’t know if she should mind that.

“Don’t be scared, my dove.” Oberyn said, moving to hover over her again, one hand on her thigh, his cock brushing against her stomach. “I’ll prepare you to take me.”

“Take me?” She asked, gasping when his hand found that sweet spot again, applying more pressure this time and leaving her breathless.

He hummed against her neck, kissing and sucking on her skin, taking in her sweet sounds.

So adorable, needing to be taught. Not knowing what pleasures awaited her.

His hand moved lower and he felt how she stiffened when one finger pressed against her hole.

“Don’t be scared…” He repeated, slowly pushing a single digit in, groaning when he felt her squeeze around him, her nails digging into his shoulders with a whine.

It felt strange, his thick finger inside of her, moving in and out slowly. Yet it also felt good, her hips rolling on their own, legs opening wider.

“Oberyn-” She moaned, voice breaking, the pressure inside her easing just a little. 

His mouth found hers again, continuing to move his finger slowly, his cock twitching at the thought of burying himself inside her soon.

“Tell me how it feels, little dove. You might be ready for another finger soon.”

She whined, concentrating on the foreign feeling, the stretch when he pushed a second finger in.

“It feels good, my Prince- Oberyn.” She breathed, her mind feeling as if it was floating on a cloud, hissing when he scissored his fingers inside of her. “It hurts a little, but it feels good.”

He chuckled, kissing her cheek and down to her jaw, then down her neck again.

“My dove, you feel splendid, gripping my fingers so tight with your sweet cunt.”

Something inside her built, blood hot like molten metal as it rushed through her, building her higher and higher until he took his fingers from her again.

A noise of protest died in her throat, his teeth softly sinking into her shoulder.

He grinned at that, lifting his head to look at her, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a deep hum.

“Finer than any wine.” Oberyn said, positioning himself so his cock was lined up with her. “My dove, I promise to be gentle. It may sting nonetheless.”

She nodded, drowsy and wanting nothing more than this ache to end. He said his cock would help, and so she wished for nothing more than him to enter her where his fingers just had been.

“Please, help me relieve this ache.” She said, feeling him against her, so much thicker than his fingers.

Oberyn watched as he entered her, grunting at how tight she still was, seeing her eyes squeeze shut and take a sharp breath.

It stung, he hadn’t lied about that, his lips finding hers as he pushed in further, muffling her whimpers while he buried inch after inch inside of her.

All the way until he was fully sheathed inside of her, hips flush against hers, one of his hands coming to rest on her thigh, squeezing it gently.

“It hurts, Oberyn.” She breathed when he broke from her, looking back at him, his lips on her cheek again.

“I know, my dove. You will feel better soon, don’t you worry.”

It was so new, the sensation of being filled, of him inside of her and stretching her out just as he had said.

Overwhelming, someone being so close to her, inside of her, his hot skin against hers, his soft lips on her cheeks.

The pain slowly fading into a need, the throbbing returning, as did the pressure.

Her hips moving on their own, making him chuckle, the sound vibrating against her chest. 

“Are you sure you wish to continue already, my dove?” He asked, kissing a spot just below her ear that sent a shiver through her. “I cannot stop myself if we do, your cunt is simply too tight and inviting.”

She nodded, whispering a silent please.

So he slowly pulled back, setting a lazy rhythm of shallow thrusts, her dragged out moans like music to his ears, a little symphony written just for him as he drove back into her over and over again.

“You feel perfect, my dove, what an honour to teach you about the pleasures of the flesh.” Oberyn groaned, his hands grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his hips, making her whimper loudly. “You won’t find a nicer cunt than that of this little virgin dove.”

She let him move, rolling her hips, trying to meet his thrusts, that something inside her building again, becoming stronger this time.

If this really was what she had been missing out on, what she had been ridiculed for, she never wanted it to stop now that she had it.

The feeling pleasant as the ache became less and less present.

Oberyn had to hold back to not just drive into her with his entire force, losing himself in how good she felt, but still wanting this to be something good for her, as much as he desired her.

Already knowing he would seek her out again and again, her innocence far from gone, her sounds so sweet in his ears, her hands so soft as they grabbed at him, trying to find purchase on his body.

“My dove, you are close, I can feel you.” He rasped, his movements becoming sloppier, lips dancing over her skin. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

“Close to what?” She asked, words catching on her breath, feeling something but unsure if it was what he meant.

Gods, she was so adorable.

“Oh, you will see, my dove.”

His hand moved between them, finding her clit.

And with just a few movements, something snapped inside of her so suddenly and with such force that all breath left her, a strangled noise catching in her chest as her veins burned, the pressure in her abdomen released. 

She was trembling, holding him against her tightly as he kept moving, thrusts harsher now.

“There you are, my little dove, isn’t that wonderful? The heights, the peak?”

It was a pretty sight, her face contorted in bliss and pleasure but also so shocked by what was happening to her, by these new feelings.

She could only whine, falling silent when she heard him grunt deeply into her ear, stilling above her.

Spilling himself deep inside of her before rolling off of her, not separating but rolling her with him so she came to rest on top of him.

She felt exhausted suddenly, the euphoric feelings still coursing through her veins.

And he felt solid beneath her body, catching his breath just as she did, his hands carding through her hair.

“Now, my dove, how do you feel?” He asked, watching her face as she rested on him. “Are you satisfied?”

If anyone had told her just a few hours ago that she would land in the bed of the Prince of Dorne, she would have laughed at them.

But now, it seemed quite nice.

She nodded. “I feel exhausted, but I am very grateful for what you showed me.”

A smile stretched her lips wide, he liked it. She seemed to be less nervous.

He chuckled, one hand wandering down to smooth over her back. Normally he would be far from done, already planning another round of pleasure.

But she truly seemed too exhausted by this. After all, she hadn’t even known about any of this until now.

Her eyes drifted shut, but she was still awake, listening to his heartbeat.

“Oh, my dove.” He said quietly, kissing the top of her head. “There is so much more to show you, I am far from done with you.”

She felt warm at the idea, curious what else there was to discover. Her eyes felt too heavy to open them again, slowly drifting off into sleep on top of him.

Oberyn simply smiled, sighing deeply.

Yes, he was far from done. 

There was so much to learn, so much to discover.

And he couldn’t wait to see her face once he began to truly teach his little dove.

[pushingdaisies1]

Its never too late baby . . . ♡

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x Mutant Reader >_<

(✧ ˚.) SUMMARY -> You were always someone who utilized your strengths. Physical and mental, you were a jack of all trades. You were a true hero to the students you taught within the school. Amongst the other X-men, you would always be one of them. But you had this little tick, that always annoyed Logan no doubt. You were a secretive person, too secretive for even his "standards." For others, you were a pillar of nurture and guidance. He saw your well-meaning nature from miles away. It was almost sickening to him how you would stretch your capabilities out to no end. He would never deny that he could be selfish. Sometimes it's more worth it to save your spine, than risk it for someone else. Though with the problems being thrown the team's way as of recent, he always saw you spinning your wheels. You wouldn't reason with him even when he of all people would lend you a shoulder to cry on. Even the students at the school could see it. With their childish snickers and big-eyed looks at your comfortable banter with Mr. Howlett whenever he helped with class. You were in love with the Wolverine. Again, out of all the Canadians - him? It wasn't something like a schoolgirl crush. It was an infatuation sort of deal. You burned for him mind body and soul. You would pretty much follow this scoundrel to the ends of the earth, even the end of your life if prompted. Which causes something to break between you two after you risk your livelihood for your family. The people that made up your heart, including Logan.

(✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> hi party people!! I saw so much of the sweet reception for my first ever logan piece , so tysm!! Genuinely from the bottom of my heart the love means so much. As I’m currently going through my x-men marathon time if you will , I’ve had this idea brewing for a while. Thankfully the resurgence of logan content has given me the push needed to formulate this yk! This isn’t a part two to my previous logan post. That will be coming very shortly, but this is its own thing. Timeline wise... erm.... idrk a good place to put this SIGH. I'm thinking like in between x2 and the last stand. also one last final note , the title I took from Chemtrails over the country club. specifically the one lyric - "it's never too late baby so don't give up." felt like an appropriate whimsy title, nd I have been hearing that song everywhere lolz. Anyways, toodles!!! ᐢᗜᐢ (✧ ˚.) CWS (?) -> Descriptions of blood and graphic injury , they/them pronouns for reader !! , mentions of major character deal , Logan cares too much ... which could mean nothing , ur comatose for like the good first chunk of this , Jean and u have LORE!!!!! (not rlly but u and her have backstory beefers/her "passing" affect reader 100%) , mourning/grief, And that's on having no healing powers!! Buh-dun-csh!!

Your fall from grace was quick on the battlefield. This was supposed to just be any regular mission. You were using it as a way to clear your head after all. But you took a leap too far and now here you were, plummeting. The issue at hand was apprehended, sure. But you didn't leave the fight unscathed. Your vision grew too spotty for you to even make out your surroundings. Your hearing too even started to fog. Looking down, somehow or some way a large-sized piece of shrapnel metal had made it into your torso. Right in the sweet spot that was not in the lungs. Your legs began to wobble, losing your footing slowly but surely. You didn't realize your body was falling to the ground. The warm feeling rushing through you was the blood exiting from your hefty wound. It was ironic the last thing your eyes met before collapsing. Logan turned back around immediately once he noticed you weren't clamoring to the jet. His heart sunk to his stomach as he immediately sprung over to you. By the time your head had smacked against the ground, you went out. Your fingertips began to buzz, your fatigue lifting all of a sudden. All of the hurt and weight on your shoulders lifted? You felt freer than before, with a piece of debree stuck inside of your body no more. Even if some people regarded mutants as the next step in human evolution, a majority were still stuck with fleshy bodies. If only you were made out of steel. In this momentary unconsciousness, you thought about everything that went wrong. Your existence as a whole, joining the school. Moving up from student to teacher at Professor Xavier's school, like Scott and Ororo you were one of the first. Regarded as maybe one of the most useful of the bunch. No one could ever compete with Storm, the literal incarnate of a goddess. You thought of her as your eyes closed, embraced with the warm memories of your early days within the school.

The professor was never one to play favorites among his students. But when he searched you out and arrived with a less conniving Magneto at your door, it was clear you were special to him and his cause. From that day forward you were seen as a pillar of hope to a lot of the students. To some, you were like a mother, to others a guardian who would save them no matter the risk. To Logan Howlett - "The Wolverine", you were a coward. A coward that he admired. A coward he respected due to the ways you handled... stress in the simplest of terms. From the day he met you, he wandered around the halls of the mansion bewildered and confused. Something about you stuck out. He would've done something with this urge sooner if his eyes weren't honed in on another.

From day one you were not surprised how fast he fell and yearned for Jean. The woman you saw as your confidant, your best friend, she was magnificent. Smart and poised all in one with a strong set of mutant abilities. She was on the same power level as the professor, which made sense for their connection.

For living in Jean's shadow, you didn’t hate it. You were her right-hand man. Your balance was comforting, she was like your sister. The professor in small quiet moments of honesty to you liked to compare you to him and Magnus. When times were simpler they weren’t at opposing ends of the mutant kind spectrum. Yours and Jean's dynamic made you feel at ease with yourself. How could you worry? Your identity became a part of hers a long time ago. Logan saw more to that with you. Sure you could nag a lot of the time, and you always barked up his tree whenever he found ways to smoke on school grounds. But you just had this pull for him. He'd always find his way to see you first whenever entering a room. His brash and gritty attitude always got all mushy around you. He over time grew a lot more fond of the smallest details when it came to you. He was an amnesiac, his past only bits and pieces. But you made him feel grounded. You cherished his growth in ways no one else had. You were the reason why he was so drawn to the "now" of life. He needed that in times like this. He couldn't keep up for long after the realization that Jean was gone finally sunk in. Drowning at his one-sided attraction, the longing that he could've done more, you pulled him right out from that rut. Thank god that the two of you combined had horrible sleep schedules. His nightmares still stirred while you were suddenly afflicted with these with the memories of being on that jet when it wouldn't take off. That same pain rocketed through you every night as you were haunted by the sight of Jean finally swept into the oncoming flood. The feeling of grief ricocheted throughout the entire school. But you found your way to stay afloat. It was Logan, which you never thought of yourself admitting. But truth be told it was him. He was the most anchoring thing around you. Ororo distanced herself for the first month, while Scott cracked under the pressure of grief. Late nights dashing around the campus halls to the kitchen, out to the court where you two just talked. You had never seen him talk so much until you two became each other's support. It made you feel better seeing him smile more. Especially when it was at you. Again, you would never utter that truth EVER. At least that's what you thought. But his smile was a nice reminder of all of the light he held inside of him. As much as he despised ... everything, he was still so nurturing in his own ways. Nightmares were an excuse for him to be next to you. Nightmares were his excuse to hold you tight to his chest. The pain of loss was a collective "excuse" between the two of you to just .. be close.

Soon though, this ideal predicament between you both started to crack. Because even though she was dead, you still knew you would always be inferior. It may be all in your head but the hate kept you driven. It kept you driven but also mad. Small things would set you off soon enough. You knew deep down whenever he'd look into your eyes, it was a nice reminder of Jean. Even with how much he denied it when you came to him in tears, your bitter pain and grief clouded your judgment.

Logan saw that even with his help you were still hurting. He didn't want to get involved in it entirely as some of it was your own demon. But he saw how bad your spiraling was and still wouldn't accept his help. Not even from Ororo or Scott, not even the professor. Neither of you would admit who started the argument. It was late, and you were tired from pushing yourself to grade papers. Logan couldn't sleep and wandered his way to your classroom of course. The conversation was fine until he mentioned the problem. Your problem which you didn't want to deal with right now. As you were only running on a few hours of sleep. But even with Logan's usual "take and give no fucks" attitude, he knew he needed to push. You were slowly shutting yourself off this time, and he didn't expect himself to be a part of that mix. It was all a misunderstanding, but the two of you were angry and fire was thrown.

Your shared feelings were complicated. This whole ordeal with him brought out the "worst parts" of your love for him. He too was dealing with his internal dilemma. How could he move on from Jean and you were still latched onto the idea of her? It was a stupid question that was brought up in a Logan way, which of course caused the spat to escalate. His poor mistake was what he shouted. Already with the fear of waking one or even all of the students, you hated what he even dared to utter. "We're friends, you need to calm down about this whole obsession thing bub!" Originally you were thinking of just heading to bed. You were too tired to continue on with this constant bickering. But that's when you exploded on him. You regretted every last word you said to his face. Because it was you speaking your honest truth. About what you felt for him, about your hurt and your pain. How Jean was practically your lifeline. Losing her was like losing a piece of yourself. Especially since you rubbed it in about the kiss he and her shared. That you had seen and that made you sick to your stomach. A couple hours later she was dead. Your heightened emotions make you feel almost dizzy. The more you talked the more you realized his expressions distinct shift. As he was reaching out for you, you immediately swatted his arm askew. He didn't realize he hated to see you cry as much as he did until now. With broken sobs, you ran out of your classroom. The papers once stacked neatly were now laid messily all over your desk. You made sure to keep quiet. What broke your heart even more was a half-awake Rogue you ran into. She looked even more awake seeing your distraught state. Her feet tip-toed against the wooden floors of the hall before she looked at you. A big reason you and Logan were so close too, was because of Rogue. She was a good kid, he always rubbed off on her. He told you everything about how he and Rogue met. You were so enamored hearing him recount even the foggiest of memories. It could even be arguments with Scott he had, you'd just sit there with wide eyes as you listened. His word became your gospel. It warmed you to your core hearing him almost sound like a dad. He had looked out for her from the beginning. You always tried to do the same even when he left for Alklai Lake for answers.

It was so silly when she had practically pushed you and Logan to talk. She was just a kid and you two took up the almost suto role of her protectors. Friend or parent, she too found two trusted people to confide in. So you immediately went into "teacher mode" as soon as she saw you with watery eyes. She looked puzzled when her face met yours. You calmed down her storm of questions as she sputtered on and on. What's wrong? , is something happening? Are you okay? The hug you shared was one of the last meaningful hugs you had with another living being. You practically cradled her in your arms as you helped her calm down. She looked up at you, her larger brown eyes almost like the ones of a puppy. "Please don't be lying to me... y'know ah don't like liars." She whispered softly, her bubbly southern accent quiet. Your heart broke into a couple more pieces as you lied through your teeth. With a content nod, you bidded her a goodnight. Turning back to your room to drown your sorrow in god knows what. It had only been a good couple of months after Jeans' death that a mission arose. The X-men were laying low after everything at the base. For the school's and students' sake. But it was always on time when something bad happened for the team to fix. Old enemies came a-knocking and this time it wasn't Magneto. It was all supposed to be an in-and-out operation. You immediately clamored to get your hands dirty once again. You and Logan hadn't been talking for the last couple of days. Not even meeting in the dead of night to speak to another. You longed to hear about his afternoons subbing with Storm. This was your chance to regain some well-needed level-headedness. The thrill of doing what's right for a better tomorrow always made you feel better The mission even got Scott to come out of his puddle of mourning. Making you feel even better seeing your good friend so triumphant as he quickly clamored for his uniform. You and Logan didn't even brush shoulders as Storm and Scott dashed off to prepare the jet for takeoff. Everything should have gone fine. You should have all made it out alive. Every single one of you, that's what you had planned. Your lapse in judgment will always be your curse. Because now here you were, in the lap of the man that made your stomach churn. That made you feel LIKE that silly schoolgirl feeling you despised. Snapping back to reality, you realize where you are currently laid. Logan's eyes eased from his previous panicked look of fear as he saw you conscious. You were still bleeding but it seems that with quick medical attention either one of them got it to lessen. Your heart raced as you felt the warmness of his hands as they pressed against your cheeks. "Come on, there you go. Just focus on me." He cooed to your heaving chest. In the far back of the jet, you couldn't see Ororo or Scott. What you could see though was the remnants of blood on Logan's suit. He must have carried you off of the rubble and into the X-jet. Your smile was nothing compared to the horrid wince that left you. Finally, after this long moment of ease, the pain set in.

Going down to hold your gut, you shuddered as your vision all of a sudden wavered. You took in a sharp breath as finally, you noticed how in bad shape you were. Red filled your palm as you shuddered. Thankfully Logan noticed you and your shaky breath and immediately gripped your hand. Even in this state, you were currently in, you would always be able to focus on him. "I know, I know it's scary. You got hit pretty bad, but it's okay. Just focus on me and you'll be okay? I have you." He encouraged softly with that comforting rasp in his throat. His eyes were shaken and his lip was firm. Though his mood lightened somewhat because at least now you were awake.

You tried to speak but you were so weak. That same fatigue stung you as you stumbled over your words. He cradled you in his arms as he kept his eyes only on you. Your weary mind still around belittling you, another one of your eerily humane curses. He saw your chest quicken and lip quiver as your eyes began to lull, you were struggling. "Hey .. don't strain yourself - what is it?" He too began to worry as you saw his vulnerability bloom. Finally your chest steady as you took in one big breath of air. You let out the one thing keeping you from slipping back into rest in one huff. "Don't let me die, asshole." The asshole part came out more garbled from you after you coughed out your last words. Your last words before your eyes fell closed. For some reason, your hearing stayed for just a while longer. In and out, you could hear him cursing under his breath. The last thing you hear is Logan's panicked shouting at Scott, "Can this hunk of metal go any faster?!"

Finally, after so much pain, there was quiet. Peace and quiet after your constant heartache. You felt freed from the chains of reality. From birth to now, now seemed like your death. You left your current reality with a bitter-sweet smile as you felt consciousness swarm over you.

You couldn't feel how long you were out. Oh, but Logan could. Six weeks you lay in the infirmary. With some sort of miracle and hope, Ororo was barely able to stabilize you. The team rushed back into the mansion in panic as your wounds were assessed. But no, you couldn't feel the panic that coursed through your loved ones as you lay so peacefully. You didn't know your heart rate was being tracked. You were stable but anyone could guess it'd take you a while to re-reach consciousness. That your accident broke the barely well Scott Summers. But most of all it affected Logan to the core. He felt his world shake under him as he finally realized what had just happened. Something snapped in a man so stuck in his ways. Those words you said to him before you went back down. They were short but in the moment meant so much. Not to mention the fact that even Logan, so careless and free, was guilty. Every time he came back just to see you, he wanted to curl over and into you. Just like how he mourned Jean, he mourned you. Though .. he couldn't because you were technically still here. He may have not noticed it but everyone else could. The lack of your presence hindered him the worst. He missed the way you'd bother him out of the blue during the quiet time around the school. He missed you telling him about your life. He missed the shitty snort you did when you laughed too hard at one of his bad jokes. He missed seeing you happy. He missed seeing you move around. Pestering students for turning in assignments late or cheating. He missed the feel of your lips against his forehead when his nightmares of Jean flared up. He missed the way you looked at him. The way you saw him not only as a man but as himself. He didn't know how to admit it but he.. missed you. He missed you so bad and it was eating away at him. He spent hours out of his day visiting you. Like what you two always did when you were alone, he talked. About his day, what he ate, and even the lessons he overheard. The school got even quieter with you gone and he hated it. He felt bitter and broken, he didn't want to feel like that. He especially missed the way he felt with you. Almost like being on cloud nine. He finally understood the pain you felt when Jean died. This time on a more intimate level than he'd like to admit. He felt like the moon was ripped away from him after the sun. Now he was just the lonely tide, washing away against the shore until you returned. Ororo did all she could to help. All she could do was maintain your physical well-being as your body healed with rest. Logan hated the wait. The time you spent not walking around the halls of the school was maybe one of the worst times in his life. Since it hit him so deep on a real level. In this array of pain and even more guilt, he felt something dawn on him as you were still comatose. He was in love with you, Logan was in love with you. He felt like an idiot but the realization would always stay true. No matter how stupid he felt. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew. In the middle of his thought process, he heard the swift slide open of the infirmary doors.

Right now he was standing over you. The one thing that kept his spirits high about your recovery was the gentle rise and lower of your chest. He didn't have to look behind him to know it was Storm. She too had taken her time checking in on your unconscious form. He sighed as she walked up right beside him. She gently cupped the examination table where your body would lay. She looked down at her hands with a bitter-sweet smile on her lips. She looked over to Logan, who was at a pause with himself. She decided to finally break the long silence. "You know they'll be fine, right?" She hummed as she glanced up to look over you. He chuckled softly as his brow pinched. His chuckle came out more like a rugged scoff. "I know, this just feels weird." He sucked in a breath of stale air. "It was funny the first night you arrived at the mansion.." Storm drew up a memory of that fateful night. "As soon as I and Scott brought you in, they immediately volunteered to help Jean down here with your examination. They were always enamored with your set of abilities. You were one of a kind to them especially, I suppose." Now his hands gripped into the sides of the examination table. He looked down, in pity of you and himself. How could he be so blind? Storm butted in once more as she noticed his demeanor shift. "All I'm saying is, they'd be happy to know how much you worried." He nodded in response, reminiscing when things were good. From your first encounter to now, his heart warmed. "I'd do it for anyone else." He gritted out as he bit back a smile. The truth was he was still in agony about Jean's loss. It felt wrong to love you as he had longed for her after all of this time. But you felt like a whole different story. He didn't have to sit in agony knowing that no matter what his love would always be with another. You always gave him the time and day, hell even down to the minute to just be honest. He needed you at his side no matter what you were to him. Maybe you were more than a friend, maybe he was crazy about you, but you understood him. In a way maybe Jean never had. Ororo knew he needed more time so she complied with the awkwardness in the air. "I'll give you some more time. Rest easy Logan, they'd want that." She insisted before making her way out of the infirmary. He immediately looked down back at you, before looking back at the monitor tracking your heart. He sighed, biting into his lip. He stuttered the only thing that had been keeping him sane since he last felt your eyes open. "Don't fail me now dimples... I need you." He gritted as his teeth were practically ground into his gums. It has become a regular part of his routine now. Once the students were back in their dorms for the night, down to the infirmary he goes. He could never be tired of seeing you at rest. Seeing you okay and not in pain. He just wished he could hear you speak. He hoped that you could hear his pleas for you to wake.

As much as he longed for you he just bided his time. Like the fool he was, like the idiot he felt like when you made him so weak. You made him feel the most human he ever could feel.

That day was supposed to be a normal day. Classes had been more and more brief. After the loss of Jean and you being "put out." But he did not expect to see what he did next. Going into the elevator to head downstairs, to of course see you as always. He was ready to talk about what you missed away and so on. His chest tightened once he saw what was right in front of him. It was you, you were walking? You were awake and on your own two feet. Your midsection was still bandaged but at least you were standing up straight. But then it finally clicked. Wait, you shouldn't even be walking around right now?!

He immediately ran to steady you once your expression went more absent. "Welcome back to the land of the living." He roughly inquired with a small, pleased grin. "I feel like shit, so don't start with me Wolvie." You gritted out with that smile that made him too feel all good on the inside. Quickly, his arms calmly wrapped around you. He longed for your embrace for too long. It wasn't like you were fighting him when he enacted this. You wrapped your arms around him too. He made sure not to squeeze too tight with your bandages and all. A gentleman must stay mindful, he could recall you poking at him as he had a beer bottle half hidden in his jacket.

Your head gently rested in the crook of his neck. That quiet he hated so much before when seeing you in the infirmary was warmer now. He liked the peace and quiet between the two of you when you were there WITH him. After some minutes passed, you met him back face to face. You eyes lingered as you watched the way he swallowed in with composure. You had longed for him to see you. Finally, all the puzzle pieces were clicking, and with your luck all at once. You knew before this would have never happened. It felt wrong and almost hurtful for you to be doing this. But go big or go home I guess. It was you who initiated it, and he gratefully complied. Still keeping you steady, once your lips met his hand immediately went to cup your cheek. In the bliss shared, all of a sudden it felt right. The tender embrace of your lips with his felt good. It was hungry and it was liberating. You could feel his heart beating out of his chest as quick gasps for air were taken. "I'm sorry." He uttered out, forehead against yours. "I know." You said with a sanguine look in your eye. "I love you." He uttered again at a rapid pace. "I know." You purred, your eyes looking back into his hazy ones. Things would always be complicated between the both of you. But deep down you had hope. Maybe not now, someday things could just be normal between you and The Wolverine. That's all you wanted and that's all you dreamed of. Yours and his timing by all means was horrible. So it wasn't surprising this delightful moment got interrupted by Scott of all people. You and Logan looked back, hands immediately darting off of one another. Time to address THAT later.

Scott's mouth fell agape as he began to regret coming down here in the first place. He readjusted his glasses with a small scowl. "Well hello to you too, and Logan." He turned his head to give him that same look. "Wanted to check on you but clearly -" He made sure to put a specific emphasis on 'clearly.' "That job has been overtaken by him.. I'll get Ororo." Before either you or Logan could interrupt him, Scott was already pressing buttons up to the main floor. Now that it was just the two of you bubbling laughs were shared. You felt finally okay. You felt like yourself after those months of nothing but remembrance. You and The Wolverine wormed back into conversation as you could finally talk BACK to him. Another thing you wouldn't ever admit was that yes, you did hear him. His gentle words would always be your favorite secret. After that display of affection though, your and Logan's bond never stayed just a little secret after that. Even after all the trial and error, and the more soon to come, you finally had another moment. Another moment that you could look at when you are older and with more grays on your head. Logan Howlett was yours, no matter how much the universe wanted to throw you around a loop. You'd always have him by your side, till the end of time. Nothing would stop you from cherishing this connection. Not even the burning phoenix crackling over the horizon. You and Logan against time baby.

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3

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Sexism in TOS: Worst Offender, or Progressive in Retrospect in Comparison?

I see a lot of folks claim that TOS was the most sexist of the Star Trek shows by a landslide -- and while I agree that it definitely suffered from the sexism of the times, I also have other perspectives to share to give some food for thought.

I am of course not insinuating that TOS isn't sexist -- it is, but I have to ask folks to consider the breadth and depth of Berman's sexism in his run and ask yourself: Was Gene Roddenberry genuinely more sexist in his storytelling and delivery than Rick Berman?

I'm not telling you to feel one way or the other, but all I ask is that you hear me out and consider some perspectives and make your own balanced assessments. Nobody is obligated to share my opinion, but it means a lot just to have folks hear it and see their thoughts on the subject. So here is what I was originally responding to:

Someone's response to this photo:

"Devil's advocate. This was a part of the popular form of cardio during the production time of TNG. Yes, it was heavily sexualised by men, but so is literally every other way women work out. Men have been caught taking pictures of women while trying to do dead lifts, running on tracks and working on sled machines. They post them online to share too. The fact is, there is no way a woman can be shown working out without it going there. And yeah,t hat includes the combat forms of workout they do in Star Trek. Just look at how Dax dresses when she spars with Worf. Yes, they're dating, but still, same goes when 7 does and any other female.

Aerobics routines like this were made dirty and cringy. This was what women wore then by and large. This is how the workout was done. We make it cringy."

My response to them:

"I respect your take, but I disagree on a few fronts.

The miniskirt was chosen by the TOS female cast, not the male cast, specifically requested by Grace LW and affirmed by Nichelle and Majel who would go on to vehemently defend the miniskirt over the years as comfortable and embraced by them.

Grace said it was comfortable and seen as a symbol of female sexual empowerment during the 60s and thought it would be a progressive garment (and turns out that it was, as it was later adapted and worn by male crew as a skant on TNG) -- FYI those were designed by a gay man and Gene approved them.

This was also supposed to be Spock's TMP outfit:

Literally lingerie.

We saw both Uhura (who saves Kirk in from Marlena Mirror Mirror) and Yeoman Landon (the first to initiate combat with a classic Kirk-esque kick to help the Captain being attacked in The Apple) carry out their combat training in their Starfleet uniforms without ever being made to change into any ridiculous workout gear.

In fact, I'd argue Jim Kirk was sexualized even more than the ladies of the week on the show and I saw his naked body more than anyone else's on a fairly regular basis. He wore red yoga tights while topless in Charlie X while the women wore full length gymnastic suits that covered their entire body. If anything, it went out of its way to avoid sexualizing women practicing fitness in those scenes and instead focused on Kirk.

Gene confessed that he asked to have Shatner filmed in suggestive/provocative ways to "give something to the ladies", so he -- as he said -- liked to "film him walking away" or have him conveniently busting out of his shirts in just about every episode as it were, because Shatner apparently had great assets. LOL

Gene made an effort to at least sexualize both if he was going to sexualize one, and he carried that attitude forward in wanting the m/m and f/f scenes in the background on Risa for TNG. He also insisted that the men and women wear skimpy outfits on THAT TNG planet. You know the one. LOL I mean the dudes even had on less than the women:

Gene also gave permission to K/S shippers to have their conventions back in the 70s when he was asked for permission. Gene and Nimoy felt with all the skimpy outfits they had the ladies wear, why not let the ladies and gay men have their fun, too? It's how we ended up with moments like this:

Yes, those are two people dressed up as Kirk and Spock's penises doing interpretive dance. Gene didn't give two damns. LOL

In my eyes, that was a very progressive take on Gene's part for the 60s. It was actually PARAMOUNT STUDIOS who had the big problem with K/S stories and vehemently tried to shut them down. Gene literally hired slash authors on his payroll and even had several slash stories/writers published in his official Star Trek books (The New Voyages & The New Voyages II).

I feel I saw Uhura and women in TOS engaged in more physical combat/altercations defending themselves that Troi or Bev were shown holding their own.

In fact, Kirk used to get furious when someone would "dress up" his female crew members without their consent (Trelane episode, Shore Leave episode) because like his male crew members, he wanted them to be treated professionally and to also have his male crew act professionally.

Berman brought some of his own personal biases into Star Trek that in some ways regressed it. While TOS had blatant sexism and was called on it time and again, that show was made in the 60s -- a solid 21 years before TNG. We as a modern audience understood why some of it was cringe/sexist due to the time period -- look at any other media coming out in the 60s and Star Trek was miles ahead of what other shows were doing.

Compare that to Berman who was churning sexist stuff out when women like Starbuck and Scully were simultaneously on screen on other programs airing, and we had already had Sigourney Weaver and other strong women in Holywood playing respectful roles.

In my eyes, there was no need of the sexism seen in TNG but especially VOY and ENT. There was no excuse for it when other shows were writing women far better and a number of those weren't even set in the future like Trek was, making it age even faster due to having those dated perspectives frequently highlighted.

In the Center Seat documentary as well as "The Fifty Year Mission" book you will find cast members, writers and other studio alumni who attest to this. Some discussions from "The Fifty Year Mission":

"First, Berman was supposed to have been a real sleaze ball . . . According to Terry Farrel, he would go on constantly about how her breasts weren't big enough, how she should do something about it, and how his secretary was a good example to follow as she had huge breasts. She even had to have fittings to get larger bras, and that was all done at his behest.

Later Berman and Braga developed a name for Jeri Ryan's character prior Seven of Nine. They originally called the character "perineum" which if you look it up it is the area between the anus and the scrotum. Later they floated the name "6 of 9". I mean, what does it tell you about where these two were coming from in the development of this character if they had names like that put forward in all seriousness for her?"

Gene Roddenberry also had some of his own more progressive ideas for TNG cut or watered down by Berman. Roddenberry agreed TNG should have homosexual relationships and representation at a con in the 80s and insisted on it in a meeting with his writers -- something Berman later would not honor. Gene wanted the AIDS episode, showing m/m and f/f in the Riza scenes -- these were some of Roddenberry's requests to include in TNG that Berman later stonewalled.

Berman's era was sadly dated by his own misogynist bias, IMO, to the point that it can somewhat hurt the shows he worked on through his cringe egoism and blatant disrespect toward his female cast.

There is a reason why Gene could keep female actresses working with him and Berman had a revolving door of women that he couldn't seem to keep working for him -- he was abhorrent to women, on and off set. Gene wasn't perfect at all, he had a lot of issues himself -- but Berman was a whole other level. Just look at what he did to poor Jolene Blalock, Marina Sirtis and his toxic commenting on her body weight which exacerbated her struggles with eating disorders, or how he treated and talked to Terry Farrell.

Anyway, just some food for thought. I'm not saying anyone is wrong regarding a take like that, but there are a variety of ways to look at this. Gene Roddenberry isn't a saint by any means, but it definitely bothers me how folks will tote the Berman era as if it were the lesser of two evils or the more progressive depiction of women when I felt there were far more concerning portrayals of women in his era with far less justification.

(P.S: I don't event want to go near the sheer amount of "creepy old dude/villain preys on innocent/naïve/scared young woman or little girl" stories there were in Berman's era, either. But that's a whole other can of worms I can write about in a part 2.)

[gamblersdoll]

nsfw, cnc mention, rough sex, spit, spanking, degrading, deku using blackwhip, manipulation. lmk if i didnt tag it. attempted kidnapping, stalker themes implied.

an: its been edited for more… fantasy.

the city was clear skied at night, civilly looking and dressed by the way. no villains were out, crime was semi dying downing and only left to maybe crimes that occurred twice a month. even then, it wasnt like it was eliminated.

maybe the universe was trying to give you and izuku, the number two pro here, after todoroki, a chance at happiness. maybe a saving grace, it could be. it only started after you and izukus marriage, it was a good thing. the media went crazy about you and izuku marrying , screaming how it wasnt meant to be.

thats the only reason it brought izukus rating down, because of a damn relationship. it wasn’t supposed to be you and izuku, it was just supposed to be ochako and izuku. yet, izuku always assured you that you were his true love.

and maybe that saving grace after the marriage was short lived, since crime spiked back up, immediately too.

and it was one that was very, destructive. which only meant a specific person that unfortunately fell into the hands of crime when he was attempting to be a hero.

dynamight.

izuku often did search for him, attempting to find his childhood best friend who desperately wanted to be a hero. but would always come up empty handed..

this time was different.

“izuku!” you screamed, keeping the door open and just staring at the horrifying box in front of you. he comes stumbling down the stairs, hand on your hip and bug eyed at the box.

someone has it out for you, bad. and they have your address, presumably pretending to be usps. or it was someone who worked at the delivery company, sending you body parts for and as an act of love.

it didnt make sense to you.

“are you going to be okay when im gone, love?” izuku says, tightening up his hero boots and looking to you. you nod, feeling his hand caressing your cheek and kissing your lips. “good. i love you.”

“i love you.” you say back, watching him depart from you in a instant. he had to go to the americas for a mission, supposedly. there was a big problem over there and they needed as many heroes as possible.

thats what heroes do, right?

thats what you at least remind yourself, since you were on active leave because of a big mission you did. you were forced to take a break, since your arm and shoulder were damaged. you were only discharged a couple months ago—

“grab the girl!” a rando shouted, a hand over your mouth and a knife to your throat. you were fucked, dropping your phone in a scramble and you damn sure couldnt use your fucking quirk. “what a lucky day! just my damn luck–!”

and you heard him gargle, was he that fucked in his mind he had gone rabid? his hands drop, his heavy weight pushing into you and you.. move away? you look to see what had happened, only to see his head had became scrambled.

you feel a cold sweat, your stomach churning and it feels like you could vomit. sure, youre a pro now— that doesnt mean you cant feel a little sick from the gore of the scene. you look to the wall, reading it.

‘youre welcome.’

someone had saved you? it was that quick? you look around the area, top and bottom. there wasnt a gunman, nor was there any traces. you scramble to find your device, calling izuku.

please, pick the fuck up.

“baby?” he asks, sounding concern.

“i almost got kidnapped—“ you start, but you think that izuku would freak out. but.. hes more calm. “but, the weirdest shit happened, the perp just.. died behind me! his head.. its like halfway gone, and i guess whoever the ‘hero’ of the night is, basically said i was fucken welcomed.”

“youre okay though, right?” izuku asks. no, youre not fucking okay, you just almost got abducted and someone blew someones head off behind you! you grunt a response, “okay, get home safe, okay bunny?”

yeah, right.

yet, something felt.. off about him when he came back. he said he would be back by the twentieth of july, and it was the fucking first of august.

“where have you been?” you ask, worried, scared, nervous, angry, confused all hit you at the same time. it felt like hell, you didn’t want to be that insecure wife that questioned her husband each day.

“something came up, im sorry baby.” he apologized, coming over to hold you and kiss your cheek. “you have nothing to worry about, sweetheart.”

“i..” you try and start, but the words just got stuck into your throat.

“you?” izuku tries to help, but it looks like he didnt want to hear it. feigning confusion and worry on his face, not like you could tell.

you were too in love and worried to even pay attention.

“i.. i forgive you.” you say, shaking those negative feelings and thoughts away from your body. it was good that you did that, you never did well with it.

good, according to plan.

you both went to sleep peacefully that night, you did at least…

until you didnt, you were a light sleeper. and of course, you heard something. something wasnt right, no, it was too hot. izuku mustve changed the temperature in the house.

your feet move , still groggy and looking at the thermostat.

seventy-nine degrees?! did he want both of you to fucking boil!? you curse under your breath, changing it back to the original temperature, at least sixty degrees. yet, something still didnt feel right—

creak!

you think its izuku, so you go back upstairs. that boy was still asleep—

creeakk!

someone or something was in the house, and you shake him. “izuku, somethings in the house.” you silent shout, knowing he wasnt that heavy of a sleeper. was he really that tired to where he wouldnt wake to do a check in the house?

fine, be that fucking way, deku.

you go on your own, and you tiptoe in your own fucking house.. how comical. but there is a lingering smell, it wasnt a familiar smell.

or at least, not yours or izukus.

you check each room, there wasnt anything.. and then back downstairs. maybe you were paranoid—

no, the fuck you werent. or maybe you just see a big ass shadow man sitting in the corner of the living room. you stop in your tracks, you have to be making eye contact with this.. thing.

he clears his throat, tapping his foot, and goes to stand up–

“midori—mff!” you try to shout for him, but a hand comes around your mouth and you can smell it, chloroform.

you wake up finally, groggy and trying to remember what had happened, but you see him, bakugou. you remember his suit, his hair, those mean, red eyes that you had first fallen in love with.

“nothin’ to say?” he starts, pulling his hands out of his gloves and crouching in front of you. “welcome home, beauts.”

“zuku!” you try, but bakugou just laughs.

“he’s probably still asleep, he was always a heavy sleeper.” bakugou started again, “izuku?” he mocks, looking around and back to you. “still asleep.”

“you—“

“yeah yeah, im a villain, this that ‘n the third.” he mumbles, kissing your cheek then getting close to your ear. “but i saved you, didnt i?” he whispers, “youre welcome.”

and it clicks, he was the one that blew the guys’ brains out.

you hear a door open, and a tuff of green hair. izuku walks in, standing in the doorway and dynamight just looks at him. “izuku! please..” you say, knowing he would save you.

“oh, hey kacchan.” he simply says, walking over and dapping him up. it confused the fuck out of you, and he just looks at you like there isnt a fucking villain in front of you. “hi, baby.”

“midoriya, what the fuck are you doing?!” you shout, “do you not see him?” you question, feeling bakugou get behind you and release you.

“oh, i do.” he replies, kissing your cheek and releasing blackwhip to restrain you. “guess we should talk about it.”

talk about what?! that he allowed a villain inside?

you glare at him, and katsuki laughs. “oh, thats a mean ass look. could make me fold in a minute.”

“izuku.” you repeat, staring at him. “did.. you plan this?” you ask, hoping and praying to whatever god there was that you were wrong, like this was a bad dream and you were stuck.

“yeah, ive been wanting to tell you that.” he starts, seeing how your heart drops to your ass. “before you get all worried, its also technically your fault.”

now how in the mother fuck.

“how?” you ask, growing paranoid, angry, scared.

“did you not realize that the usps label was slightly ripped?” he asks, showing the box with the finger and the tongue inside of it. it makes you gag, and katsuki shushes you in consolation. “did you not realize that the perp who wanted to ‘kidnap’ you was our priest from our wedding?”

thinking back on it now.. maybe it was. no, it was our priest.

“but.. why kill the pre—??”

“he knew what was going on, and was trying to save you. as if you needed to be saved.” katsuki interrupted, brushing your hair back.

“and to be honest, all three of us were technically married. it was meant to be.” katsuki adds, showing the marriage license.

the three were.. married? meant to be?

riiipp!

you feel your sleep shorts be ripped off, looking to izuku for some sort of reasoning. he gets closer, kissing your lips and then looking back to katsuki. “be careful with her, you havent fucked her, ever.” he says, tightening blackwhip and smiling. “he’s going to be gentle this time, okay?”

you feel warmth around your slit, moaning out and you hate how you sound, the fact this was even arousing pissed you off.

why was it arousing?

“fuck, shes so sweet..” katsuki groans, licking at your clit and suckling. his heavy cock gets heavier, pulling you close and slipping into your walls.

“zuku!—“

“wrong name, baby.” katsuki rasps, pulling your hips back and thrusting into you. “ha..haaah!” he pants out, tongue lolled out and drooling onto your ass. “oh, ive wanted this, ive wanted thiss!”

“its okay, bunny, see how hes being so sweet with you?” izuku speaks, kissing you cheek. he looks at your crossed eyes, fists balled up and he rubs your knuckles.

this feels wrong, but it doesnt feel so bad.

or was it you being corrupted that manipulated you into thinking that?

it was definitely the corruption of your walls that shot to your mind, your ass burned from the constant slam of his hips into them. “fuck, wanted you since the day i saw you!” he growls, spitting onto your back and wrapping a arm around your neck.

and this fucker izuku just watches.

“going to make you mine, mine!” katsuki says, feeling your corrupt walls squeezes around him in ecstasy, which causes him to break you. he slaps your ass, digging his nails into the tender flesh as he holds onto you for support. “gunna’ cum in you, fuck ive wanted this so bad!”

it makes izuku hard.. really.

“wanted to watch you slut yourself out to deku.. wanted to watch you get cock drunk of’fa me!” he babbles, turns out he was getting pussy drunk off of you. he licks up your back, biting into your shoulder and whispers into you. “do you feel it? do you feel how much of a slut you are? huuhh?”

he whines his hips slow, laughing all mean and slapping your backend again. “oh, god, youre so much sexier in person!” he says, eyes dilating and he licks his canines. “fuck, just like that, going to fuckin cum!—“

he creams inside of you, feeling his seed spilling out of your walls. izuku only chuckles, lifting your head up to see your eyes.

your eyes were low and heavy, you had been in and out of consciousness. “see? we can all be a big happy married couple.”

—

“aand, cut!” the director says, katsuki just laughs and picks you up, blackwhip releasing you.

“you okay, mama?” he asks, squishing your cheeks and looking at your eyes. “shit, grab her water, idiot!” katsuki yells to the backstage, them rushing to the fridge.

“sugar, you okay?” izuku asks, tapping each part of your skin to bring your back down to earth. you nod, both men sighing in relief as katsuki helps you drink the cold water. “we didnt go to hard, did we?”

“mm, mm..” you respond, lazily looking up to them. “did me dirty though, having me in damn near eighty degree house.”

katsuki boisterously laughs, “that was my fault, forgot to turn it down, mama.” he says in a kiss.

[moonchild701]

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Naughty Santa

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: Elf Helper Reader sits in Mall Santa Touya's lap

Pairing: Pro Hero Dabi/Fem Reader

Content Warning: Smut, Public Sex, Crack, Horrible Christmas puns (you're a menace), Light Spanking(??it's like a single smack), Riding, Exhibition, Almost Caught, Praise Kink, Semi Clothed Sex, Mall Santa Dabi

Word Count: 2k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is the 5th part of 12 fics for a 12 Days of Christmas event. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Don't be scared to be a lil naughty this year🤭

Prompt: Sitting on Santa's lap

My Masterlist

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Touya was somehow convinced ̶b̶u̶l̶l̶i̶e̶d̶ ̶ into being Santa Claus at the mall this year.

It's for a charity event the agency hosts every year, with the heroes and sidekicks playing Santa and his elves for the hoards of germ-riddled, snot-nosed, whiny brats.

Now normally, with it being his agency, Endeavor himself is supposed to be the one playing Santa again, as he'd done the previous years.

But last year, the flaming trash's temper flared at one point, causing his stupid flame beard to appear, burning away the fake Santa beard and promptly traumatizing most of the kids who witnessed it, which then dropped the agency's ranking.

So this year, needing a new Santa, it was decided that Touya, as his eldest and the next in line to inherit the agency, is to suffer as Santa.

The suit is stuffy and uncomfortable, the beard is a horror on his skin, and the children are loud, obnoxious and annoying, as children usually are.

He wants to go home.

His only saving grace, is you, dressed in that adorable little elf costume that has no business looking that sexy.

A little red and green dress that he's pretty sure is a size too small as it just barely covers your ass, stopping at mid thigh, with thigh high, red and white striped stockings leaving a thin sliver of skin, green and white shoes and hat, and fake elf ears.

That outfit can't be kid friendly.

Looking at the other sidekicks dressed as elves too, in relatively the same thing, he decides it's just him. The others look normal.

At least he has something to look at to keep him sane. 

And that's exactly what he does right now as you greet the first swarm of gremlins into Santa's Wonderland.

Whatever arousal he'd gained watching you was instantly gone at the grating sound of the high octave of children screaming and clapping.

It's gonna be a long day.

*****

"And we're done!” you chirp, bounding over as the last of the kids, a little girl, skips away, waving at everyone. Many sticky, screaming children later, Touya is finally free.

Seeing the drained look on his face, you smile softly at him. “I’m gonna help clean up if you wanna just rest a bit, okay?”

He hums tiredly in response and you press a quick kiss to his cheek before leaving. 

The chair he's been stuck in is soft and he's exhausted, so he just unbuckles the black belt, unzips the front of the Santa jacket and pulls off his white gloves, resting his head on his fist and letting his eyes slip shut. A small nap won't hurt.

*****

He wakes up to a weight on his lap and automatically complains. “I’m done being Santa!” he groans, damn near whining, stubbornly keeping his eyes closed.

“But Santa,” you coo, gliding your hand up his chest, over the white vest he wore under the costume, feeling the lines of hard muscle beneath the fabric. Pulling the fake beard down under his chin, you press a kiss to his lips and murmur against him, “What about what I want for Christmas?” 

Well that certainly got his attention. 

His eyes snap open to look at you, feeling your cheeky smile against his lips. Straddling his lap, hands balanced on his shoulders, you hum happily when he pulls you in closer by your waist and deepens the kiss, biting down softly on your bottom lip. 

You let your lips fall open and Touya slips his tongue into your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck. He can feel himself grow harder and kisses you deeper, heated hands falling to trail up your thighs, under your dress, to your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh there, before pulling away, leaning back and dropping both of his hands to your thighs to pull you down onto his bulge, groaning.

“Someone's gonna see us, Dolly,” he murmurs, eyes lidded and hot on you.

You pull the beard fully off, throwing it to the side somewhere, and drag him back in by the nape of his neck, muttering against his lips, “Everyone left. There’s only the cleaners at the back of the mall. I checked”

“Hmm, so? What do you want, baby?” he asks amusedly, voice husky and low.

You trail your lips up his jaw to his ear, whispering, “Fuck me, Santa,” your breath tickling his skin. "And keep the hat on."

He breathes out a moaning curse, muttering "Weirdo.", while squeezing your waist and holding you in place as he thrusts his hips up against you, groaning at the friction.

You moan softly at the feeling, and your lips twitch with the need to grin as you get a horrible idea and decide to say it anyway.

"You wanna go up my chimney?" You giggle, laughing even harder at the face he makes. "Gonna empty your sack in me, Santa?"

“Please, not the puns,” he groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

"Let me jingle your bells?” you whisper, smiling cheekily against his lips. He rolls his eyes, surging in to capture your lips in a kiss to shut you up.

He won't admit outloud how adorable you are right now; sitting pretty in his lap in your little elf costume, muttering horrible Christmas puns in between giggles, but he might as well play along. 

He trails his lips down your neck, pressing kisses to your throat and dragging his tongue up and over your jaw, murmuring, "Mm, you been a good girl this year?", as he grinds up against you.

You shudder, biting your lip to try to stifle a breathy moan, as you automatically tilt your head back to give him more room to your neck. "Mm, no Santa. I've been naughty."

He can't believe he's doing this. The Christmas lights are still lit for fuck's sake, though the mall had turned the main lights out. The music is still playing yet here he is, defiling the Santa chair.

As he peppers your skin in little nips and marks, he hums, murmuring, "Naughty girls don't deserve presents."

You grind down against him, raking your nails down his chest. "I can be a good girl for you, Santa."

Sucking a mark just below your ear, he purrs, "I'll have to punish you if you can't, hm?", as he pulls down the zipper of your dress, before pulling it up and off of you, leaving you in just your underwear, the shorts that kept you modest and the thigh highs.

“Can I get on the nice list if I make Santa feel good?” you ask, batting your lashes up at him while rolling your hips.

Laughing lowly, he rips the shorts off, a little fire aiding the process, nipping at your bottom lip when you giggle, and muttering, "Depends." as he drops the tatters of the shorts to the floor near the dress. "On what?", you ask breathlessly as he unhooks your bra and discards that too. You arch into his hold when he grasps a handful of your tits, kneading the soft flesh.

"On how well you take me." He grins, pinching and playing with your nipple, pulling you back down for another searing kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth at the first gasp.

One hand remains playing with your chest as the other squeezes your ass slightly, then slides in between the both of you to palm his erection before moving and shifting you to sit up on your knees while he pulls his pants halfway down his thighs, freeing his straining erection. 

He thrusts his unclothed cock up against you, making you moan into his mouth and grind down your clothed cunt against him, the soaked panties gliding over him.

You're so wet he could probably just slide right into you.

When he maneuvers you to sit up again, you let out a little whine at the loss of friction that’s cut off by a choked moan when he pulls your panties to the side and eases two thick fingers into you.

"Greedy little elf,” he teases, curling his fingers inside you, feeling how easy you take him, opening up so well for him. 

He thrusts once, twice, scissoring them, then pulls them out, immediately lining up the thick head of his dick to your hole, dragging it through your wet folds.

It's all the warning you get before he pushes in, groaning as he pulls you down onto his fat cock, slowly but all at once bottoming out. 

Throwing your head back, you moan long and low as you dig your nails into the velvet material covering his shoulders.

He runs his hands up your sides, letting you adjust to the stretch, pushing you up and back so you're on display for him, in nothing but your elf hat, thigh highs and panties. He grips your ass, lifting you up before dropping you back down onto his lap, your cunt sucking in his dick. You moan, gripping his Santa jacket to stabilize yourself. 

“Ride me,” is all he says. But you're still shaking, still trying to adjust to the sheer size of him, so when you don’t move, the stinging slap to your ass causes you to yelp. "I said ride. Good girls do what they're told."

“I’m sorry, Santa,” you mumble out, shakily pushing yourself up on your knees. "I'll be good." You drop back down with a whine at the feeling.

“There's a good girl. Just like that,” he moans, keeping one hand on your ass while the other holds you steady by your waist.

He watches you bounce up and down on his lap, your tits bouncing with you.

He watches your head fall back as you moan like a whore as you fuck yourself silly on his cock where anyone can see if they just walk by, the filthy squelching of your sloppy pussy only barely drowned out by your moans, the jingling bells of your elf hat and the Christmas carols playing in the background.

His other hand slides down, grasping your other asscheek and kneads them both, before he spreads you.

With his feet planted on the floor and the firm grip on your ass, he holds you still as he fucks up into you, hard and fast, making your moans echo through the empty mall.

The faster his pace becomes, the louder you get until the sound of someone whistling pierces through the air, making you both freeze.

Fuck.

The security guard.

How horny could you have been to forget about the fucking mall security?!

He slows his thrusts to a deep grind, with small, barely there movements that make you bite your lip to keep from moaning and getting caught by the poor, unsuspecting guard.

Touya brings a hand around your neck, turning your face towards his to capture your lips in a slow, languid kiss that works to both turn you on impossibly more and absorb some of the noises you can’t help but make with Touya stuffing you so well.

You can hear the guard’s footsteps coming closer and for some reason, their proximity only has you getting hotter. He pulls away from the kiss with a grin, nipping at your ear.

“Naughty girl,” he whispers, kneading your ass as he rocks your hips. “I can feel you clenching around me. You want to get caught, don’t you? You want this poor guard to see you being stuffed full, and wish they're the one fucking you, hm?"

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, shaking; his hot breath on your skin where he whispers filth into your ear pushing you that bit closer the edge.

The whistling moves further away, and as hot as the danger of getting caught was, you relax when it passes.

At least until you feel a warm thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing firm circles, as Touya resumes pounding up into you, and that's all it takes.

You go rigid, clenching down on him as a string of whimpered swears leave you as you cum, slick gushing out around and on him, soaking his pants.

And the vice grip of your spasming cunt drags him over the edge with you. “Fuck baby, take Santa’s present.” he moans, cheeky, laughing and breathless, as he cums deep inside you.

Heady and stuffed full, you breathe, "Thank you, Santa."

As you come down from your high, he chuckles, caresses your back, and presses a kiss to your forehead. "You're welcome, baby."

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

[spookshollow]

Making Zoro Smile

OPLA! Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Masterlist

Zoro was taken his usual nap on deck, as Luffy and Usopp was having fun together, as Nami was busy with her maps,

You had been with the crew for a while, Zoro have saved you from Buggy and Luffy wanted you to join and so you did, and well you didn't know why Luffy wanted you.

You don't have any skills, not that you know of, maybe good at cleaning, maybe that's what Luffy wanted you here was cause of your cleaning?

But thought everyone was amazing and friendly to you, you always stayed with Zoro,

Yes, you may have a crush on Zoro, I mean who wouldn't with how handsome he was, and with his beautiful eyes and you know he would have such a wonderful smile, so you always wanted to make him smile, to make him happy

You tried everything, chatting to him, making him food,(though it isn't always the best made) anything you could think of, After a while you just gave up.

You glance at Zoro as he slept peacefully, you sigh as you silently got up and went over to Nami as she looked over at me with that familiar smirk,

"still looking for ways to make Zoro smile (Y/N)?" You slump down on the chair as she placed her map on the table and held my shoulder gently, "I mean how am I supposed to make him smile?" You knew you couldn't find anything to make this lifelong dream now to come true as Nami shook you gently making you look at her.

"His Swords" you look at her confused as she laughed before continuing, "You are great at cleaning, why don't you clean his swords, he would be happy I think?" That actually would work, you thought, as you slowly got up and running out to the deck.

You still see that he was still sleeping, you slowly but surely tried your best to take his swords as he has such mighty grip.

But you thanked the heavens above as you managed to get the swords out of his grip and you quietly make your way to where Nami was,

She was surprised by how you managed to take the swords with ease, as you smiled with such pride and unshield his swords as you marveled at how graceful his swords are, but know it is quite dirty, as you began to clean his swords for perfection.

Zoro had woken up and noticed his swords were missing, he quickly gotten up in a flash and went straight to Luffy, "hey! Where had you left my swords?" Luffy looked at him confused as Usopp backed away slowly as Zoro looked over to him, "I've seen (Y/N) carrying them, she looked like she was going to clean them" Zoro stood there baffled by this as he wonder why would she take his swords and clean them.

"Wait so you hadn't noticed with (Y/N)?" Luffy looked at Zoro with surprise as Zoro stood there kinda awkwardly as Luffy and Usopp explained about (Y/N)'s feeling for Zoro as they said it was completely noticeable, Zoro took in this information as he began to realise how she acted around him, Zoro did found (Y/N) cute, and adorable but he never could outright say it infront of her, he was afraid she wouldn't like him that way.

"Oh Zoro! There you are, I was wondering where you were" he turned around and had seen (Y/N) trying her best to hold his swords together, "I was wondering where they were" Zoro walked over and gently took his swords off her hands, as his hands gently brush over your arm, you immediately started to blush, he was freaking out in the inside but he kept his cool as he had a faint smirk on his face.

He unshielded his sword out to have a look at, and he noticed how clean and sharp it was, it was so shiny he could see his face reflect off his sword, "I just thought of cleaning your swords today as you were asleep, I hope you like it" You tried to quickly run down the stairs but Zoro called you as you froze there.

He walked round to stand in front of you as he put his swords back around his waist again, he placed both his hands on your shoulders as you glance up and saw something you never imagined you would ever see.

Zoro was smiling, and it was beautiful, you couldn't help but smile back to him, as he lean down and gave your cheek a quick kiss "Thank you so much, (Y/N)" you couldn't believe it, first Zoro smiled, and now he had kiss your cheek, could it get any better? "Ah, Zoro! You miss" Zoro knew what you had meant as he lean down and captured your lips in the most sweetest, breathtaking kiss you ever had.

Luffy and Usopp glance over from where they are stand smiling two each other "see I told you Zoro would kiss her first" Luffy said with pride as he walked over the railings and looked out at sea, as Usopp groaned in defeat, "well I never thought they would finally kiss" as he joined with Luffy, leaving Zoro and (Y/N) at peace for now

[megalony]

We Made It

This is an Evan Buckley (Buck) imagine, it's probably my longest one yet I had so much fun with the fluff and angst in this. Thank you all for the 911 requests I'm slowly getting through them all. Any feedback would be great.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Masterlist

Summary: Christopher joins the Buckley family out for a day trip to the pier but when a natural disaster hits, they all fight to find each other and stay together.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey Eddie, everything okay?" (Y/n) leaned against the door and slung her bag on her shoulder.

A bright smile lit up her face and took Eddie by surprise but it helped to wash away the anxiety he had pooling in his stomach. He hated to turn up unannounced, after all he hadn't messaged or called either her or Buck to let them know he would be dropping by, but it was an emergency.

"Yeah, sorry I know I should have called… I need a favour."

"Sure, what's up?" (Y/n) opened the door more to welcome him in but her smile turned into a lopsided smirk when Eddie moved to the side and revealed the small figure hiding behind him.

Christopher.

A broad smile lit up his cheesy face, his curls were flopping all about his head and he had his backpack on.

"Did you get called in?" (Y/n) kept her voice quiet but Eddie's pursed lips and the small nod of his head told her all she needed to know. Eddie wasn't supposed to be on shift today but he'd been called in and he couldn't refuse. And he didn't want to keep imposing on his Abuela and asking her to have Christopher because even though he was a golden boy and never played up, he was still a handful.

"I get it if you can't have him, I just didn't know who-"

"Hey, he's always welcome here. And it just so happens we're off out on a road trip," (Y/n) leaned down to Chris's level and gave him a smile. "Fancy a day out with the Buckley crew?"

"Yeah!"

(Y/n) loved the way he smiled and adverted his eyes to try and hide just how happy and excited he was. She moved out the way and ushered him inside, letting him hobble his way through to find out where Bella was hiding. He was a great kid to look after and (Y/n) knew Eddie was always happy to take care of Bella if they ever needed or asked him to. The kids got along well together despite Christopher being eight and Bella being only three.

"You're a lifesaver, thank you." Eddie leaned forward to give her a quick hug before he glanced at his watch. He had to run before he was officially late for the first time.

"No problem, text when you want him back."

"Thanks."

He had arrived at just the right time, ten minutes later and he would have missed them. They had decided a little road trip was in need to cheer Buck up while he was still off work, waiting for a date when he could go back. He had been glad of the break which meant he could spend time with his girls.

While his leg had been in a cast, (Y/n) had helped him up and down the stairs, helped him shower and cook but the best part was Bella trying to look after him. Evan had sent thousands of pictures to the team of Bella trying to feed him, give him drinks, rub his head, draw on his cast and then the pictures where she fell asleep on him to 'keep him company'.

His daughter had been his saving grace, spoiling him and doting on him and Evan got through each day because of his two girls.

Now he was back in action, they thought a day trip out might be good for them all and Christopher was going to add to the excitement.

"Evan, babe we have an addition to the trip."

"Who?"

Walking down the stairs with Bella perched on his hip, Evan looked at (Y/n) before he looked around the apartment and a grin lit up his face when he saw a familiar flop of curls sat in front of the tv.

"Did Eddie need to work or something?"

"Yeah, do you mind?"

"Course not, he can go on the big rides with me. Chris, are you ready for the best day out ever?" They had already decided this morning that they would stop by the pier in the afternoon. It was the perfect place to play games, have some fun and food and there were a lot of kiddie rides for Bella. Evan waved his arm out to coax Christopher over to them since they were all ready and packed up to go for their day out. But his eyes turned back to look at Bella who was cuddled up into his chest.

She had her light sandy hair put up in two little pigtails and she was wearing a yellow jumpsuit with a big smiling sunflower in the middle. Both her hands moved to pat Evan's chest lightly and when she looked up at him with those wide eyes, he could feel his heart melting on the spot.

"What 'bout me? Will you go on stuff with me, daddy?"

"You know I will sweetheart." He moved his hand to cup the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss to her temple before he reached down to pat Chris on the back and guide him in front of them.

"Alright, off we go."

***

"Bella, babygirl I do need to breathe, you know?" Evan gruffed but his mixed expression gave away the fondness he was trying to supress. He squinted up at his daughter and rolled his lips together but the slight curve at the corner and the softness in the crease of his eyes showed he wasn't telling her off.

She was stood up on his thighs with both arms tightly bound around his neck and her chin resting on top of his head. It was endearing and Evan loved her cuddling up to him but he still needed to breathe and she was making it hard leaning against him like this and holding his neck with quite a lot of force.

She let out a small whine in response but loosened her arms and kissed his hair repeatedly before she moved her hands to swiftly hold his chin and tilt his head up towards her.

When she puckered her lips, Evan grinned madly and pushed up to give her a small peck, making a loud 'mwuah' sound that always made her giggle.

"Smile, I'm gonna send your dad a picture, show him how much fun you have with us." (Y/n) poked her tongue out between her teeth as she smiled at the three of them sat opposite her at the table. Bella had been sitting patiently with her waiting for the boys to finish the ride they went on but as soon as they came off, she clambered over the table and onto Evan's lap.

Evan tilted his chin up and grinned with one arm around Bella who smiled sweetly and pressed her cheek on top of Evan's head. And with his other arm, Evan reeled Chris into his side who held up the cotton candy he'd just got and started to laugh.

(Y/n) snapped the picture, catching in the food and drink splayed out on the table so show Eddie Chris was having a good time and had had his lunch and a rush of sugar.

"Alright team, what's next?" (Y/n) put her empty drink on the tray of rubbish next to her before she looked at them.

They had driven out and gone to a beach half an hour away, then they came round to the pier. Evan had gone on a lot of rides with Chris, (Y/n) took Bella on the smaller rides and all of them went on the waltzers which made (Y/n) feel sick. But they still had the ferris wheel to do, the water rides on the other side of the pier and all the games and stalls to try out. Dinner was ticked off their list though and after the pier they had the toy shop to head to before they went home.

"We need to win something," Chris stuffed the last of the cotton candy in his mouth and looked between the two people he thought of as family. His dad was always referring to them as uncle Buck and auntie (Y/n).

"Yes we do, what games are you good at?"

(Y/n) strapped her bag over her shoulder and rested a hand on Chris's shoulder when he slipped his hands into his crutches and started to look for a stall with good prizes.

"Come on babygirl, let's go win a load of prizes." Evan held Bella's hands and effortlessly hoisted her up until she was sat on his shoulders. He held onto her waist and she held his lower arms rather loosely considering how tight she had held him previously. But she was used to sitting on his shoulders, Evan preferred to carry her or hold her up like this because he was too worried of her running off and losing her in a crowd.

At least with Chris there was no risk of them losing him here.

For the duration of their walk around the pier, (Y/n) kept her hand looped in Chris's backpack strap to make sure he didn't wander too far or risk bump into people.

"Buck, this one." Chris turned to look back at him with a lopsided grin and squinting eyes, his way of looking sweet and cute to get Buck to agree and play the game of throwing balls at tin cans to try and win a stuffed teddy.

Evan turned his head and nodded but when he went to lift Bella over his head and put her down, she all but screamed and grabbed his forearm but her other hand dug into his short hair. She pulled his hair between her fingers to try and stop him from picking her up. Bella didn't want to move, she wanted to stay right where she was, safe and sound on his shoulders where she didn't have to move and she could be close to her dad.

"Ow that's naughty! No, you're coming down now girlie." Evan winced and grunted while he hoisted her over his shoulders and planted her down on her feet next to (Y/n) who quickly grabbed her hand. But Evan knew he wouldn't be able to stay mad at her because she was already biting her thumb and her eyes were welling up, ready to start crying because she had been told off.

Bella swayed on her feet, still biting her thumb and clenching (Y/n)'s hand in the other while she watched the boys. She would stay silent until Evan smiled at her or said something to her and she knew she wasn't in trouble anymore.

"Buck, I won!" Chris pointed at the enlarged teddybear that was about his size and weight which he couldn't carry all by himself. He watched Buck clap and give praise and move to grab the teddy but when Chris turned around, he noticed Bella was still pouting and looking uncertain. "Bella carry it,"

Evan froze for a moment, glancing between the two kids before his expression softened and he motioned for Bella to come over to him. When she stood in front of him, Evan leaned the teddy over her shoulders but kept hold of it by the arms. Letting her believe she was actually carrying it when really it was more like a hat resting on top of her head.

It was just the thing to make her smile and giggle and add a skip in her wobbly steps until she was prancing like a pony with Evan slowly walking behind her, going a lot slower than he normally would.

They all followed Chris towards the end of the pier until they could sit down on a bench. (Y/n) sat down on the edge next to the teddy bear that they put down on the floor, Bella stood up on the bench next to her wedged between her and Evan. And on the end, Evan picked Chris up and let him stand up and hold the barrier, keeping a tight grip on his shirt to make sure he didn't wobble over the side.

What a phone call that would be to Eddie, having to explain Chris had toppled over the side of the pier and took a swim.

"How you feeling?" Reaching across Bella who was transfixed on watching the tide, (Y/n) leaned over and brushed her fingers against Evan's cheek, trailing her fingertip down his jaw when he smiled and tilted his head to the side to look at her.

"I'm okay, I feel a lot better- oof," Evan closed his eyes and bent his head forward when Bella started to sway from side to side and reached her arm out on top of his head to steady herself on him. The amount of bruises Evan got from Bella was unreal, he could come home from the station unscathed without so much as a water mark and then the next day he would be littered with scratches and bruises from his little monster.

"You'll be able to go back to the station, the blood thinners aren't permanent, babe." (Y/n) continued to brush his cheek and leaned over to peck his lips, smiling against his lips when they could both hear Bella humming to herself. She could see just how far Evan had come these last few months, he had had three surgeries on his leg, did physio and exercises every day and he had followed the doctor's advice to the dot. All the hard work he had put in wasn't going to be for nothing, (Y/n) just knew it.

"How you doin' Chris? What are we gonna do next?" Evan looked over to his right and squinted up at him when the sun beamed down on them. There were still a few games they could play and they all wanted a go on the ferris wheel which Bella was the right height for. But it was up to the kids and since Bella didn't care what they did, it was down to Chris.

"Hook a duck!"

"Alright-"

"Daddy," Bella patted Evan's hair like she was smoothing it down and he turned to look back at her, smiling up at her until he saw her furrowed brows and the way she was bending her knees like she was trying to do some kind of funny dance.

"What, babygirl?"

"Where did water go?"

Both Evan and (Y/n) frowned at one another and quickly moved to turn around and peer over the side of railing the kids were clinging to. What was she talking about? There was a whole sea out there, why did she suddenly think the water had vanished? She had been watching it for the past few minutes, it couldn't have vanished before her eyes?

Something burned down in (Y/n)'s stomach and she could feel her lungs popping and deflating as anxiety broke out in her system.

It wasn't the lack of water at the bottom of the pier that caused her worry, it was the turbulant view of an appending wave that surged her panic. That was larger than the usual surfing wave that occured on this beach. (Y/n) had never lived anywhere where this had happened and she'd never been so close to see one in person.

A tsunami.

Before she knew what she was doing, (Y/n) batted her hand out until she found Evan's bicep and she dug her nails into his skin, clenching her fingers around him like he was somehow going to make this better or turn the wave away and demand it stop where it was. She wasn't sure what she wanted him to do but she couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

"Evan…" His name came out nothing more than a broken sound that she could barely hear but she felt the way his muscles tensed and he shot up from the bench without tearing his gaze away from the water.

"Get off the pier," His voice was barely above a whisper but he was getting into action mode already. "Get off the pier! Move back! Get off the fucking pier!"

His voice sounded like a siren to everyone else who had gathered round to see like it was some sort of beautiful spectacle instead of a harrowing omen. They shouldn't be gathering round to watch, couldn't they see how massive that wave was or work out what that implied? They all needed to leave, not rush closer.

Chris gasped but he didn't have time to react or talk when Evan hastily grabbed him and tossed him over his shoulder. There was no time for Chris to walk or he wouldn't get far and they needed to be as far away from the shore as possible, they needed to be in-land. Evan kept his arm secured over Chris's back and he pushed away from the bench, reaching his free arm out for (Y/n).

Terror had hold of (Y/n) by her heart and it made each breath and each pulse of blood feel horrid and broken but she had to push through it. With trembling gasps, (Y/n) hoisted Bella into her arms, holding her face against her shoulder and her other arm tightly wrapped around around her small waist. She kept her daughter cocooned to her chest and ran forward as Evan grabbed her elbow so he didn't lose her in the rush that was going to come.

The pair of them bolted back across the wooden pannels, aiming to keep going and going until the inevitable flood overtook them. If they could at least get to the end of the pier then it would be a little better but Evan doubted it.

And when he turned to glance behind him, the water was almost at the bench they had just left.

They were running out of time.

"Here! Down here!" Doubling over, evan placed Chris down behind a vacated shall and as swift as anything, he grabbed (Y/n) by her hips and hoisted her over the side before he jumped across.

(Y/n) snapped her eyes closed and buried her face into Bella's hair who was whimpering against her chest, unsure what was happening and why everyone was suddenly screaming and panicking. She pressed her back up against the wood and felt Evan kneel down beside her and hold his arm around her while his other arm deadlocked around Chris.

They had to stay together.

"Oh God, Evan…" (Y/n) nudged her forehead into his shoulder and felt his arm tighten around her waist until it felt like an iron bar was grafted into her skin but it was comforting. It was the only thing grounding her racing thoughts from making her pass out.

"I won't let go babe! I won't I swear-"

He couldn't breathe. He had underestimated just how powerful the water was going to be when it hit. Wood broke and splintered on impact and each broken pannel hit Evan in the head, the arm, the legs and his back like he was being beaten black and blue.

It didn't matter how tightly Evan kept his arms around his family, he couldn't hold them all or keep them safe at his chest.

When the water hit, Evan got twisted and lifted from the floor and that was it. He could feel his fingers scratching into Chris's shirt but (Y/n) left his arm after maybe five or six seconds at most. The water lifted Evan up instead of dragging him down like he expected and it gave him a chance to gasp for a deep breath before something smacked into his foot and toppled him into a gushing wave. He seemed to spin in a circle and race down towards the floor like a diver reaching for the ocean.

A panel of wood smacked into his forehead right across his eye and that was when his world turned black.

Something akin to a bubbling scream gurgled at the back of Evan's throat and he was sure if he could he would have been sick. Everything was water, his lungs were full of water, his clothes were weighed down by water, the current was holding onto him with deep imbedded claws and dropplets were rolling down his eyes.

A tree branch smacked right into his lower sternum and stomach, knocking the water out of his lungs and letting him take in a strangled gasp and open his eyes. It took a few seconds for his vision to clear but when it did, he started to scream.

Where were they?

Why wasn't he back at the pier? How far had the water dragged him? Evan couldn't tell where he was, the water was at a third story level, covering the road, the landmarks, the signs and the building names and distinctions. All he could see were towering buildings, floating cars, broken glass, bodies and unworthy items floating beside him. Everything from chairs to lamps flew past him at top speed and gave him no direction of where he had turned up. All he knew was he was no longer at the pier.

"C-Christopher! (Y/n)! God, Bella? Bella baby where are you?!" Each word became clearer when he took deep ragged breaths but his voice rose two octaves until it sounded like a teen who hadn't hit puberty yet.

Chris didn't have balance or coordination or enough ability to find something to cling to and stop from floating away into the next state. Evan didn't even know if he could swim. And (Y/n) was somewhere around here, she had to be but if she was injured she couldn't swim and if she could swim, what if she hit something?

What if she didn't have hold of Bella anymore? She was three, she couldn't swim, she could barely tolerate getting a bath. This was far too powerful for her to stay afloat or swim or avoid getting scraped or punctured by something.

Where was his baby girl?

"No, God no," Evan let the tears fall, he let awful, hoarse screams scratch past his salty lips as his eyes burned from the beating he had taken and the tears he was shedding. He couldn't get the picture of his daughter floating past him out of his mind. Her little body floating limply past him, never to be seen again. Evan wouldn't survive if he couldn't see her face again or hear her laugh or her calling his name.

Evan screamed all their names again and again until he couldn't do anything but gasp for air and spit the water that flooded his mouth when he tried to push up higher on the tree branch that was currently keeping him afloat.

"Buck! B-Buck!"

"Christopher!" Evan looked around wildly, blinking away the droplets clinging to his lashes but he couldn't see where Chris was. Until he squinted into the distance and noticed a small head and a pair of arms clinging to a telephone pole.

One down, two to go.

"I'm coming! Stay there, hold on bud I'm coming!"

Bringing his legs up, Evan awkwardly shuffled over the branch and dived back into the current that was thankfully heading towards Chris and not away from him. He seemed to be sat right in the middle of the current that flew him down the middle of whatever street he was on.

As soon as he was within reach, Evan stretched out in front of him like someone desperate to find the light in the darkness and when his fingers barely touched Chris's shoulder, Evan grabbed him. He punctured his fingers into Chris's shoulders until he was sure he had bruised him and he pulled him from the pole.

Evan turned onto his back and lifted Chris onto his chest so he could still breathe and stay afloat but his head turned madly to try and find somewhere to move. They couldn't stay floating through the street, it was too dangerous. They had to get somewhere high and safe and wait until the water lowered enough to walk through or help arrived.

Did the fire and rescue come out during a tsunami? It was a natural disaster, surely they had to come out, but how would they get here, a truck couldn't float?

"Truck, truck." Chris waved his arms out beneath the water to stay floating on his back but he tried to splash towards the truck that was elevated and sat on a slant. It was resting on something but he didn't know what.

"Good, good boy! Alright l-let's go there."

Moving yet again, Evan hooked his arm tight around Chris's waist and tilted until they were both trying to stand up in the water so they could kick, bat and shimmy towards the truck.

He wasn't sure where the effort or the energy came from, but they swam like eels through the water until Evan could grab the open window and reel them in.

"Up, up."

When Chris grabbed the rail on top of the truck, Evan moved him up onto his shoulder so he could keep him high above the water and so he could put his feet into the windowsil and lift them both up. Chris let himself go floppy so Evan could push him over the rail and get him safe on top before he flopped on his chest next to Chris, exhausted.

"Are you okay?" Evan crouched on his hands and knees, coughing up the last bit of water and trying to take a second to make sure he could see no injuries on Chris. He couldn't be telling Eddie he had gotten his son hurt during a tsunami and if Chris was badly hurt, Evan wouldn't be able to cope in this situation.

But when Chris smiled and shook his head, Evan merely gasped. How could he be smiling at a time like this? Wasn't he afraid of what just happened? Shouldn't he be crying and screaming and shouting for his dad, demanding help arrive and take them away?

He looked like he had a black eye coming along and there would no doubt be scratches and bruises but he didn't seem like he was badly injured and that was a big weight off Evan's shoulders.

Evan himself felt okay. His head was pounding, blood was starting to dribble down into his left eye along with the water seeping off him. his ribs hurt, his arm was scratched and he was sure a few lower ribs were either fractured or broken. But he was relatively okay, he could run off the adrenaline that was now coursing through his veins. He would be functional until he could find out what happened to the rest of his family.

Tears started to flood Evan's eyes until he could barely see when Chris leaned forward and cupped his face in his hands and gently patted his cheek.

"You're hurt." Chris tried to smear the blood off Evan's forehead and the action made Evan sob.

"I'll be alright, buddy."

"Auntie (Y/n) and Bella, are we gonna find them?" Chris started to brush away the tears falling from Evan's eyes that turned a darker shade of blue and started to twitch.

"God, I hope so."

***

"Daddy!"

"I know you want daddy, baby, I know. We'll find him," (Y/n) could barely keep her voice level but she had to try and sound promising and encouraging. She had cried too much already.

If she cried any longer Bella would realise she was lying. How was (Y/n) going to know if they would find Evan and Christopher unharmed and alright after this? She might find one and not the other. She might have to give Eddie the worst phone call of his life and break his world. She might find Evan too late and shatter her own world entirely.

It had been a miracle that (Y/n) had stayed so close to Bella. After Evan drifted, (Y/n) realised Bella had been sucked out of her arms and carried off further ahead of her. A branch punctured into the bottom of her chest and a chunk of metal smacking into her forehead had done nothing to deter (Y/n) away from chasing her baby through the water. She watched her daughter bob up and down through the stream, gasping and struggling to stay afloat until she got tangled up in a bush that stopped her from going any further downstream.

(Y/n) had managed to grab her and use some nearby rope to tie Bella to her chest so they couldn't separated again.

Leaning forward, (Y/n) folded her arms over the roof of the car Bella was perched on and she pressed her forehead on her arms. If she was going to cry she needed to smother her sounds and not let Bella see so she didn't panic and get upset again too.

"No, daddy!" Bella's tone changed and she started frantically pointing, her sobs now ceasing into nothing.

"What?"

Turning around as much as she could, (Y/n) almost screamed when she saw a familiar figure looming in the distance. How on Earth did Bella know that was Evan? From way over here, he looked like a broad figure standing on top of something. But then again, his hair was always dark and flat when damp and he had wide shoulders, thick arms and a reduced torso. He was distinctive, thank God.

"Evan? Evan, please, please be him!" (Y/n) tried screaming his name but it only made her injured side ache and her lungs burn. She let bella continue to scream at the top of her lungs and wave her arms to direct him over to them.

A fire burned inside (Y/n)'s knotted stomach when she watched him dive into the water. It had to be him, what stranger would answer to his name and head their way? They weren't exactly in distress, they weren't being carried away by the water they had managed to find somewhere to stay safe for the time being.

"Daddy!"

"I'm coming, baby it's me! (Y/n), (Y/n)!" Evan flung a floating shopping trolley to the side and pushed another wooden beam out of his way as he coarsed through the water towards his girls. He could feel Christopher's arms tight around his neck and his weight pressing down on his back, reassuring him that the eight year old was alright and still with him.

He had started to give up hope of finding his girls, it was getting harder and harder to stay positive around Chris until he heard a distant crying. He had been looking round and round for what felt like hours, then when he and Chris moved over to a broken building that had been safe to stand on, he heard the voices get clearer.

There they were. (Y/n) had managed to stay with Bella or at least follow her and find her again and when Evan reached them, they would all be together again.

As soon as Evan was within reach of the dark blue BMW the girls were clinging to, he scrambled onto the boot and manouevred Chris from his shoulders to the top of the car. He helped him shuffle slowly on his stomach until he was safely on the roof and out of harms way.

"Bella!" Chris wrapped an arm around her and started to giggle when she shuffled between his legs and cuddled close to him. She was desperate to jump down into Evan's arms but one look at his stern expression told her to stay where she was. And that meant the closes source of comfort was the person who she thought was her cousin.

"Oh baby! Oh I thought- I…" Evan couldn't repeat what had been rattling through his head, lest he wanted to have a nervous breakdown and sob in front of the kids.

He thought he'd lost her for good.

He gripped the edge of the car and shuffled along until he was close enough to dig one hand into the top of the car and use the other to wrap his arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders. He reeled her into his chest and felt how badly she was shaking when she let out a feeble mewl into his chest. Her face tucked into the middle of his chest near his collar bone and both her arms wrapped around his torso, digging her nails into his flesh to reassure herself he was actually here, safe in her arms.

"Evan…"

"I'm here, I've got you, you're safe."

He couldn't press enough kisses to her wet, matted hair and each peck made her cry harder until she was sobbing and bubbling and whimpering in his arms and all he could do was shush her. If she didn't stop he was going to breakdown.

"Get on the car baby, we need to sit up with the kids until the water goes down enough to walk." Evan let his arm slope lower down until it was firmly around (Y/n)'s waist but his head snapped up to Bella when she spoke.

"Mummy's stuck."

"What? Stuck how?" His head pivoted back down to (Y/n) and he coiled his arm back to his side so he could hold her chin between his fingers and tilt her head up to look at him when she kept her eyes adverted down. He thought it was strange that she had Bella on top of the car but she herself was still half submerged in the water. It didn't dawn on Evan that she might be sitting in the water because she was stuck, he thought she was just trying to test the level of the water or wait and get ready to move again.

"My leg," (Y/n) glanced up at the kids before she lowered her voice, "I- I couldn't swim properly and hold Bella, I tried to get to the car… my foot went through the window, the glass-" She broke off, breaths hitching higher with each word.

Bella had been screaming and choking at the same time and (Y/n) didn't know what to do. The moment she got her unstuck the current took them and a wave submerged them and both of them panicked. When the car came into view (Y/n) knew she had to do anything and everything to reach it and get them both safe but she couldn't let them continue to float away and risk drowning or becoming separated again.

One slippery hand on the roof of the car wasn't enough to ground them to it and (Y/n) was in such a hurry and frightened that in her haste, she tried to put her feet on the car any way she could to grab it and stay secured to it.

Her right foot went straight through the glass window up to her mid-thigh and she could feel every shard of glass imbedded in her leg to the hilt. If she moved an inch either way, a searing hot fire pulsed through her nerves and made spots dance in front of her eyes.

So (Y/n) sat with her left leg floating on the bonnet of the car and her right leg jammed in the window, waiting for help to arrive or for enough courage to filter through her so she could pull herself free and keep moving. She didn't have to wait any longer, the one wish she had been praying for had been answered. Both the boys were here in front of her, they found their way back to her and they were alright.

"Okay, brace yourself on the roof and I'll take a look," Evan pecked her forehead again before he reached down to grab the doorhandle so he had something to ground himself with like an anchor in the sea.

It was hard to see much in the murky seaweed coloured water. Bits of everything floated past him from socks and leaves to paintbrushes and cans of pop. But he didn't have to go far down at all to see the problem. There was a large shard of glass imbedded in the underside of (Y/n)'s thigh, that was why she couldn't move.

He pushed back up to the surface and looked around before he grabbed a floating branch that looked sturdy and thick.

"I'm gonna break the glass to get you free, then I can check the damage properly and patch you up. Deep breaths, this is gonna sting sweetheart," He whispered the last part in her ear before he submerged himself again.

Punching and using force underwater felt pointless when the water took over half his energy and his swing but he had to try. He jammed the branch repeatedly into each area of the glass until finally it started to give way and break off into smaller jagged pieces. And it gave Evan the chance to slowly hold (Y/n)'s upper thigh close to her bum and slowly pull her leg back.

When she was free, Evan rounded her side and scrambled up onto the bonnet before he crouched back down and leaned into the water. His smile was enough to calm (Y/n) down and she held onto his shoulders, letting him grab her under her arms and slowly hoist her up out of the water as both kids cheered.

"Alright, alright baby I'm gonna lay you on your front so I can check the damage, try stay still."

Evan lifted his leg over (Y/n)'s back so she was held between his thighs before he lowered her down until she was laid down on her stomach on the roof. The glass was in the back of her thigh and he had to sort it.

"I'm sorry baby."

"What f-"

Both Chris and Bella coiled back in fright when (Y/n) screamed before she smothered her mouth and nose with her hands and bit down into the palm of her hand.

Evan grimaced, swiping the tears away with his shoulder when he loosened his belt and strapped it as tight as he could around (Y/n)'s upper thigh. He pulled it so hard it sank into her skin like a new layer of flesh and it caused her leg to jerk out. When the pin was secured in the button, Evan kneeled down in front of her and pulled her so her upper half was laid over his knees.

He bent over her, smoothing her hair behind her ears as she sobbed into his muck-ridden jeans. Each sob made her shake and each jagged breath made her leg pulsate and throb and it circled back round to make her cry even worse and all Evan could do was shush her. He hummed into her hair, kissed the back of her head and pressed his fingertips into her skin to try and calm her down.

He couldn't remove the glass from her leg because it was stemming the bleeding and it would make her bleed out if it was removed. But Evan couldn't just leave it there and let the rest of the blood drip around the wound. He had to cut off the blood supply to the wound and the only thing he had that would suffice was the belt keeping his jeans up.

"Shh, it's okay baby, I'm so sorry but I had to. I love you so, so much."

After a few minutes, (Y/n) punctured her teeth into her lower lip to try and stop herself from crying, she had to be brave for the kids.

There was no way she could sit or stand up when the glass was still in her leg so she settled for pulling herself a little higher up on the roof like she was sunbathing and getting a tan on her back. She kept her arms folded and rested her chin on her arms, trying to smile through the tears and the pain that was making her delirious.

"I'm okay," She whispered quietly when Christopher reached a hand out and gently rubbed her shoulder, unsure what else he could do.

"Daddy…" Bella held her arms out towards Evan and shuffled out of Chris's arms. She hadn't seen him or touched him since before the tsunami hit and she was desperate for some comfort. She had been calling out for him for what felt like hours, days, years to the frightened toddler and now he was here, she hadn't even gotten a cuddle yet.

"Come here babygirl,"

That was all the encouragement she needed to scramble forward onto his lap and curl up against his sodden chest. She didn't care about his damp, musky shirt that now smelled horribly of fish, sewage and whatever else was floating in the water. All she cared about was that his broad chest was pressed up against her face and his strong arms were curled around her and when she felt him kiss the top of her head, she mewled quietly like a kitten.

***

"I think we can walk through this now, everyone is heading in that direction, there might be shelter or a hospital somewhere nearby." Evan tiredly looked down at (Y/n), trying to add a little hope to his broken voice.

They had been sat on this car for an hour or more and they couldn't wait much longer. Evan had kept watch of (Y/n)'s leg and her lower chest where he knew she had a puncture wound and both were leaking blood like a slow but steady river that trailed over the side of the car and dribbled down into the dusty caramel coloured water.

He needed to get her to a hospital before she lost too much blood or got an infection or something worse happened. They were safe but isolated here. There had to be a hospital or a make shift hospital nearby.

And (Y/n) agreed, she was growing tired and the longer they stayed here, the less likely she was going to be to move.

"Alright you two, we're going to find some help, wait there for a moment."

Evan sat Bella back down next to Christopher before he shuffled to the edge of the car and slowly slid down into the lapping water, annoyed that he was just starting to dry off and now he was going to be cold and sodden and sticky again.

The water barely reached his knees and it was thinning out by the second.

"Come here bud," Chris smiled and reached out for Evan's arms, letting him pick him up and slide him into the water as gently as he could in case anything sharp was hiding beneath. "Can you walk through this?"

"I think so."

"Good. Sweetheart, you ready?"

A tepid smile mixed with a grimace twisted on (Y/n)'s lips and she shuffled to the edge and looped her arms around Evan's neck. She took a moment to kiss his jaw and bury her face in his neck before she nodded and let him do the work. His hands were tight and secure on her hips and he pulled her closer, leaning her weight on his chest until he could lower her down into the water.

(Y/n) could barely feel her right leg. It was like an awkward sense of pins and needles but it didn't hurt, her leg felt like it was under anaesthetic, it was limp and felt thick and puffy and loose like it was disconnected. She had to lean all of her weight onto her left leg and loop her hands around Evan's bicep to make sure she didn't fall, but she was upright.

She would shuffle and hobble through the water, she had to.

"Baby girl come here so I can get you." Evan wrapped his free arm around Bella and swiftly picked her up from the car but the moment he leaned down to try and put her in the water, she screamed. A horrid, ungodly sound left her lips and rickoted through Evan's ears and make him wince and shriek in response.

"No daddy no! D-don't let me go! DADDY NO!"

Bella started to bash her tiny fists into Evan's chest so much she was starting to hurt him and each scream resonated through his ears until he had to shout her name to get her attention.

He pressed his hand against the back of her head, tangling his fingers into her crimped hair as he pressed his lips against her forehead to shush her.

"Okay baby girl, it's okay. I'll just carry you, shh you're safe I promise. Daddy's got you."

He didn't want to carry her all this way, as much as Evan loved holding carrying and cuddling his little girl, this was different. He had (Y/n) to think about, she could barely stand up and hobbling through this was going to be a big trek for her. Evan had been hoping the kids would walk beside him and he could either carry (Y/n) or at least take her weight and keep lifting her so she didn't have to move as much.

But he couldn't put Bella down, not in this state. God, she was never going to get a bath again.

They didn't know how far they trecked through the water slugging around their ankles. They didn't know how many people they had passed or how many bodies floated in the water nearby. No one could count the amount of cars, trees, electrical items, bikes, cupboards and shoes that had floated past them.

But each of them were getting tired.

Evan couldn't keep walking for much longer, his head and his heart could go on for miles because of the three people who were depending on him, but his body was past its limit.

He had Chris clinging to his left leg, one arm curled around his leg and the other hand was in his pocket so he stayed close and kept himself upright. Bella was asleep in his arm, her legs curled up on his chest and her head lolled on his shoulder. It was a relief she was asleep because neither parent wanted her to witness or remember the violent, horrifying images that were surrounding them.

And then there was (Y/n), both her arms around Evan's neck, her head tucked into his chest and her body stooped over. Her left leg was limp and useless now, she was dragging her foot behind her collecting mud and grime like a hoarder. Evan took half her weight and she hopped on her good leg or dragged her foot and shuffled awkwardly through the sludge.

It seemed like forever until the road actually became visible and the water drained away into a clear, if wrecked, street.

They had been given directions to the nearest hospital and all of them had been praying for some sort of vehicle to pass by and give them a lift but they had no such luck. They had to keep walking until they found what they were looking for.

"Evan… I can't," (Y/n) couldn't even voice what she was feeling or tell him what she wanted or needed. All she could do was stare up at her husband, her firefighter, her saviour, and bite her lip.

She wanted to sleep, she wanted to sit down and have a nap and wake up all better and patched up with this event far behind them in their past with their future ahead of them. But the longer they walked, the less sure (Y/n) was that she would be okay after all of this. She just wanted to stop.

"Bella, baby girl, there's no more water. I need you to walk with us, stay right between my legs if you want and hold onto me, but I have to carry mummy now."

Evan woke her up gently and peppered kisses all over her face to brighten her up and make sure she knew everything was alright. There was no water anywhere in sight to frighten her and make her cling to him in fear of drowning. He didn't care if she walked with Chris, walked between his legs or right behind him holding onto his other leg like Chris. Just as long as she walked so he could carry (Y/n).

Bella began to whimper and squirm but Evan didn't give her chance to panic, he crouched down with (Y/n) doubling over and leaning on him, and placed their daughter on her feet. She stood firmly on the floor, panic and uncertainty in her eyes before Chris reached a free hand down to hold her hand.

"Up you go sweetheart, this will be the safest way for your leg." He crouched and turned his back towards (Y/n), wiggling his brows to make her smile and lighten the mood.

He didn't want to carry her on his chest when he had a feeling Bella would stay in front of him. He couldn't carry her bridal style because it would be too awkward and he could hurt her leg. But a piggy back ride was the next best thing, he could keep her safe and still see where he was going and her leg would just dangle over his hip. He wouldn't be in reach of the glass to knock or disturb it.

With a smile that showed how weak and disorientated she felt, (Y/n) looped her arms around her husband's neck and let his hands hold her thighs. He scooped her up with ease and settled her on his torso before he straightened up and nodded at the kids to start walking.

"Off we go."

Somehow, Evan felt safer, more secure and had a slight boost of energy and adrenaline with (Y/n) on his back. He had her safe in his hold and he didn't have to watch her struggle and hobble, he had been desperate to carry her and now he could, he felt better. Despite the discomfort in his ribs that he was sure were broken and the dizzy feeling clouding his head, he pushed forward.

He had his wife on his back, Chris clinging to his leg and his daughter waddling slowly between his legs, holding Chris's hand for safety and reassurance.

The sun started to set behind the horizon when the four of them slowly shuffled, hobbled and dragged their feet towards the hospital they had been dreaming about for hours.

"We made it," Evan choked through his words and he could feel the tears suddenly spilling down his face like a waterfall. They did it; they got here, it took them all afternoon and a horrid start, but they got to the hospital. Now they just needed to find someone to help them and they could get patched up and finally relax. As soon as everyone was checked over and (Y/n) was taken care of, Evan could calm down.

He would think, breathe, eat, sleep, cry, when his wife was tended to and out of medical danger.

"You did it baby," (Y/n) whispered quietly in his ear and kissed the junction of his neck behind his ear and jaw. She felt him shiver beneath her touch and she nuzzled her cheek into his shoulder. It was hard to fight off the sleep that was fighting to win the battle.

"Cap, it's good to see you," Eddie patted Bobby on the shoulder and managed a bright smile despite the day's work that had unfolded. Staying at the hospital had kept him busy and being a temporary medic was a delightful change for Eddie. He felt a little more useful here than he had back there in the water a few hours earlier.

But whatever Bobby was about to say drowned out into static when Eddie looked just beyond him.

"Oh my God!" Eddie's fingers dug into Bobby's shoulder and he ended up yanking him down a little before he suddenly let go and bolted past the hospital reception that was crammed with people.

He stumbled down the path, his heart beating frantically against his ribs causing the vein in his neck to pulse and make him feel faint.

What had he done?

Why did he drop Christopher off with them this morning? Why did he add such extra pressure on the two most important people to him? He should have found some other childcare for Christopher, he shouldn't have turned up out of the blue and landed them with him. They looked like they had all been through the heart of the storm and then some. Why did he give them the added pressure of Christopher?

If he didn't they might have gone somewhere else on their day trip than wherever they took the kids.

Eddie didn't know what to do when he reached them. He wasn't sure whether to grab his son and hold onto him for dear life, check over Bella, confiscate Buck and wrap him up in a hug or take (Y/n) and carry her through reception. He froze in front of them all, his arms paralysed out in front of him as he couldn't make up his mind on what to do.

"Daddy!" Christopher let go of Bella's hand and stumbled forward, making the decision for him as he threw himself into Eddie's waiting arms.

"Oh, Christopher, are you okay?" He didn't look like he had been through the tsunami, he looked more like he had gone swimming in the sea than through a horrific natural disaster. "Buck, I- hey girlie, oh it's okay." Eddie kept one arm around his son but his free arm looped around Bella when she ran across to him and grabbed his leg.

"Uncle Eddie,"

She couldn't hold her dad properly when he was carrying (Y/n) and she was desperate for comfort. If she couldn't have Evan, she was sure as Hell going to have her uncle Eddie instead. Her little arms stretched up and grabbed at Eddie's neck until he understood and picked her up, holding her against his chest when she began to cry.

"Buck, what happened? Chimney I need help over here!" Bobby bypassed Eddie and stood in front of Evan whose legs were starting to wobble as floods of tears poured down his face.

"Buck, God where were you?" Chimney tried to look him in the eye but he wouldn't look at any of them, all Evan could do was cry, keeping his gaze down to his feet. "Stretcher! (Y/n) I'm gonna check you over real quick then we'll get you inside and patched up, okay?"

"Hm,"

She couldn't open her eyes any longer, her face nuzzled into Buck's neck again and her arms squeezed lightly around his neck. It took all her effort to smooth her fingertips over Evan's chest to let him know that he was okay and they had made it.

Chimney patted his hands all down her back, felt her ribs in case they were broken and observed the puncture wound in her lower chest that wasn't extensive but it would definitely need stitches. But when he looked down at her right leg, his lips rolled together and he eyed Bobby with uncertainty. Her leg was extremely discoloured from the cut off circulation, blood was still dribbling slowly down her leg and the glass could have any number of infections on it that could penetrate her soft tissue and cause damage.

She had to get into theatre now before her leg became unsavable.

"Pulse is good but her breathing is shallow and her leg is in bad shape, that glass needs to come out now and the blood supply needs to be reconnected before the leg is lost." Chimney turned to find two nurses had arrived with a slightly lopsided stretcher but it would do. (Y/n) was now a high priority and she would get first admission to an operating room. "Okay (Y/n) we're going to gently ease you off of Buck and onto your stomach on this stretcher."

"Stay very still Buck, we've got her don't worry." Bobby patted Evan's shoulder before he and Chimney both got hold of (Y/n).

They moved an arm beneath her chest each and carefully held her thighs before they pulled her back. Her head fell back so slow and floppy it looked like she was a ragdoll whose neck had just broken. Her arms were lifeless and useless at her sides and she felt like jelly, one wrong move and she would split forever.

Bobby moved round and leaned backwards so (Y/n) could lay on his chest and Chimney could manouevre her legs and they lifted her up onto the stretcher. He turned her head to the side so she could still breathe properly and they placed her arms on the stretcher tucked up against her chest before Chimney gave a thumbs up for them to take her.

"Buck, buddy let's follow them inside and stay with (Y/n). You and Bella can stay close by and we will get you checked out." Bobby pressed one hand on Buck's back and the other on his chest both to check his breathing and to try and comfort him and steady him when he looked like he would keel over.

He knew Evan and Bella wouldn't want to be separated from (Y/n) and if they went now, they could stay in the closest waiting room to her and get seen by a nurse. Evan's head looked bad and he could have other multiple injuries they didn't know about.

As soon as Buck saw Eddie take the kids inside to follow (Y/n), his knees gave out.

His hands latched around Bobby's arm, his body went down with a harsh thud to the concrete floor on his knees and his breathing turned shallow and limp.

"Wow, wow! Hey, you're okay. You're all here in one piece, you're all gonna be okay. Come here," Bobby spoke with a calm and unusually soft voice like melted butter and he pulled Evan into his chest when he didn't refuse the contact. He let Evan tuck his face into his shoulder, switching between little panting breaths and big gasps before he let out a shrill cry that sounded like his throat had been scratched raw.

"I- I got them all here. They're all safe," Evan started to rock himself back and forth until Bobby and Chimney both did the same, holding onto him and checking his vitals at the same time.

"You did it Buck. You did it."

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

What is Broken II (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity.

Author's Note: So, this did end up getting split in two. It just reached a natural stopping point and it made more sense to add a part IV instead of have an unnaturally long part II.

Taglist is done via reblogs

Series Masterlist

What is Broken

The next morning, she watched with red-rimmed eyes as the sun emerged over the horizon. As the brightness forced her to look away, she took a moment to thank whichever god had given her the foresight to send Aemond to sleep elsewhere. It had been another horrid night, and to explain it after all that had been said between them would have been far beyond miserable.

He would return soon, she was sure. With new honeyed words and gentle touches. With his beautiful pleading eye and perfect pouting mouth. With the softness of the elusive loving smile he reserved only for her.

Or did he? He had given Alys so many things she thought only they shared. Why wouldn’t he give the whore that smile as well?

The very thought had her stomach lurching again, but she raised herself to sit against the head of the bed and steeled herself against being sick. She took deep, controlled breaths, turned towards the eastern window to feel the fresh air coming off the bay, and set her mind free to wander.

Not entirely free, however. She did not let her thoughts go anywhere near her husband.

Instead, she thought of only nice things. The flowers that would soon bloom in the gardens with the coming of spring. The fresh fruits that would once more grace her table. Weather fine enough that she could ride through the Kingswood on her beloved steed, Litse, once more.

Eventually, the roiling faded, and she looked down to her stomach. “Kōdrȳsi rhinkpa jemo gaomua hae jālosa yno gaoman?” Is that as unpleasant for you as it is for me?

A soft thump near the top of her stomach felt very much like a noncommittal answer.

She laughed a little. “Iā jeme ñuha boteri raqāt daor?” Or do you enjoy making me suffer?

That question received no answer.

Just when she was about to say something more, she heard the door to her chambers creaking open and soft footsteps approaching. Of course, he would come to her so early; he had always slept so little. She clenched the sheets in her fists, preparing to face Aemond once more.

But it was not Aemond who walked through the door.

Instead of a single violet eye, she was met with a warm, brown, tear-filled pair that matched her own, and a helpless cry escaped her lips before desperate sobs overtook her. “Mama!”

Alicent ran to her side, taking her only remaining daughter in her arms and fighting back her tears. One hand rubbed soothing circles on her back while the other gently cupped her chin and lifted it so she could look into her daughter’s eyes. “Oh, my dearest girl…”

She buried her face in her mother’s rich auburn hair, savoring the comforting smell she’d known since infancy. There was no question that Alicent had been told about Aemond’s misdeeds – though whether he told her himself or she heard another way, she could not decide.

“I hate him,” she whispered weakly.

“No, you don’t,” Alicent countered immediately. She pulled away, took her hands, and softened her voice. “You are not capable of hating Aemond, my dear. Nor is he capable of hating you.”

“Then why did he do this to me?”

Alicent sighed, brow furrowing as she pondered her son’s actions. She did not have a good answer, for Aemond had always been the perfect son, save for the death of Lucerys Velaryon, and now, she supposed, this. It was behavior she had anticipated from Aegon, or had in the past. With her eldest son, she knew he acted out of his anger that he could not be the son his father wanted.

But with Aemond…

Aemond loved his wife. He was discontented with many things in his life – his position as the second son, his injury, and his father’s negligence – but never with her. His gaze had never strayed to any other woman, even before their engagement. Once they were betrothed, it was rare to find his gaze anywhere else but on her. He was so happy with her, always. What could have altered his devotion?

“I do not know,” Alicent finally answered. The words did little to soothe her weeping daughter. “Men… they can be wonderful when they truly love you. But even then, they have their weaknesses. Aemond was gone a very long time. Perhaps he was simply lonely?”

She shook her head and ripped her hands from her mother’s. “If he was lonely, he could have come back to me. He was supposed to return to me several times but never did.”

While Aemond was at Harrenhal, she, Aegon, and their grandsire had sent countless ravens asking for his return. Otto and Aegon asked so they could hear the news from the battlefield and try to adjust their plans accordingly. She asked because she missed and needed him. Badly.

He always sent some excuse. The battle was not yet over. Vhagar was too tired to fly. He did not want to leave his stronghold undefended when enemies lurked nearby. She had trusted each excuse like a fool.

“Did you know she’s carrying his child?” she asked, drawing the blankets further up her chest as if she could protect the life inside her from the horrible fact.

Alicent nodded. “I did. He told me.”

She frowned. At least Aemond had the decency to tell their mother himself. “What else did he tell you?”

“He was very upset, my dear.” She tried to suppress the kernel of joy that sparked at her mother’s words. “Not at you, of course, but at himself.”

“As he should be.”

“Yes, he should. But he loves you so much,” Alicent grimaced, setting a hand on her daughter’s belly. “And he loves your family so much. He is inconsolable at the thought that you may never forgive him.”

That kernel of joy went up in flames, and she looked at her mother with unfettered rage. “Why should I forgive him? He has betrayed me and has done nothing to regain my trust beyond his weak, selfish apologies.”

“Yes, but –”

“He lied to me again last night!” she cried. “He said it was only once. He looked me in the eye and lied! And he thought I would be stupid enough to believe him.”

Alicent sighed heavily as she looked away from her daughter. This wasn’t like Aemond – none of it was. Even after hearing his tearful explanation the night before, she was no closer to understanding it. Nor to finding a way to fix it.

“That was wrong of him,” she said at last. “All of it was – is. My dear, I do not know what to say or how to make it better. Your father, for all his faults, never strayed. I cannot begin to imagine the pain you are in. But – ”

“But what?” Her daughter glared at her with narrowed eyes, and her hand clenched into a fist by her side. “I cannot begin to imagine forgiving him, nor how I will ever look at him again without feeling this… this rage. Mother, I cannot be a wife to someone who hurt me so deeply, no matter his supposed remorse.”

She looked down at her stomach, then back to her mother. Though her eyes were red and wet, and her lip trembled, she wore a look of absolute determination. “I want to go. I don’t know where, but I don’t want to be here. I can’t bear to be with him.”

“Oh, my darling,” the queen pulled her daughter to her chest once more, not speaking again until she had calmed. “In any other circumstance, I would arrange for you to leave for Oldtown within the day. But it is not so simple.”

The princess stiffened in her mother’s arms.

“There are so few of us left, and we have already spent so much time apart. We cannot let ourselves become estranged.” Alicent bowed her forehead to rest against her daughter’s. “We cannot appear weak, especially not you and Aemond.”

She was frozen, but at that, she gathered enough strength to lift her eyes to look at her mother. “What do you mean, ‘especially’ not us?”

“There are no more heirs, darling, not of our line. But you,” her hand rested gently on her daughter’s cheek. “You are changing that. In mere weeks, your children – yours and Aemond’s – will become the new heirs to the throne.”

“They might not,” she argued weakly, her voice soft and breathless. “They may be daughters.”

Alicent smiled sadly, placing a hand gently at the top of the girl’s stomach. “This one has given you enough trouble that I would wager the Red Keep itself that he’s a boy.”

She put her hand over her mother’s as she tried and failed to smile. The Maester came to the same conclusion many weeks ago. Then, she had been thrilled at the possibility of giving Aemond an heir. Now, she wished desperately for daughters.

“Why do our heirs matter?” She asked. “Aegon will remarry and have his own soon enough.”

The question was met by a heavy, cloying silence.

“Mother?”

Alicent schooled her face into the careful neutrality that had served her so well as queen, though the tears shining in her dark eyes betrayed her heartbreak and grief. “I am afraid Aegon will not marry nor sire any more heirs. The Maesters… they predict he will leave us by the year’s end.”

Her heart stopped, then sank. “But that means Aemond…”

“Will be king soon,” Alicent confirmed. She again brushed her daughter’s hair behind her ears. “And you will be his queen.”

The implication hung over her like a black cloud: a queen could never leave her king.

-

Aemond knelt in the Royal Sept at the feet of the Father. He had not slept the night before, not after he told his mother what had happened and watched her cry harder than he had ever seen. He’d gone all the way back to his rooms – those he shared with his wife – before remembering the promise he had made.

He could not go back to her. To her arms. To his home.

So, he ended up in the Sept. He didn’t remember walking there, leaving the Holdfast and crossing the upper bailey. He just knew he’d been kneeling there long before the sun crested the horizon. He’d prayed and wept and begged the gods to either reveal to him a path to redemption or strike him down and spare him further torment.

The gods ignored him. He could not blame them for it.

His lamenting was halted by the sound of the carved stone doors opening, followed by a strangle rattling sound Aemond could not identify. He turned and saw his brother and king for the first time in months.

A servant stood behind Aegon to push the wheeled chair in which the kind sat with a blanket over his lap to conceal his crooked, atrophied legs, but was dismissed with a wave of a red, scarred hand. Aegon’s injuries after Rook’s Rest had been so horrific even Aemond struggled to look at him. The scars he now bore were hardly better. The king looked twisted, broken, and weak. It was a miracle little Jaehaera could look at her father without collapsing in terror.

As Aegon wheeled himself down the Sept aisle, Aemond steeled himself against the horrible expression on his brother’s face: empathy, disappointment, and rage.

In their youth, even Aegon had been protective of their youngest sister, to the point that he restrained himself from making too many lewd comments in her presence. And after years of Aemond calling him depraved, perverted, and whorish, he would, of course, delight in the irony that his little brother was just as weak as him.

“I wouldn’t have believed it,” Aegon drawled. His voice was as damaged as his body, weak and rasping. “But then I saw our mother. I always thought I was the only one that could make her look like that. So sad and weepy and disappointed.”

Aemond reminded himself that Aegon was finally the uncontested king and that throttling the life from him was now more than ever considered treason. “I hardly think you are qualified to pass judgment on me,” he growled.

“No,” Aegon smirked as he brought his chair to a stop at Aemond’s side. “But I think I am well qualified to gloat, don’t you?”

Suppressing his sneer, Aemond turned to face his brother. “Are you? How many unsuitable women have you bedded? How many bastards have you sired?” He scoffed, but his threadbare feeling of righteousness immediately gave under the lead weight of his desperation. “Why does my wife abhor me when I make this one mistake when Helaena never cared when you did the same over and over again?”

“Because Helaena never loved me, Aemond.” For the first time in their lives, Aegon was the calmer and more rational of the brothers. “She cared for me as a sister, but she never loved me as her husband. Not like our haedus loves you.”

“I love her, too.” Aemond’s face fell into utter regret and despair. “So much.”

“Yet you still broke her heart.”

Aemond turned back to the statue of the Father, bowing his head. “I did not mean to. I didn’t mean to hurt her – I would never intend to hurt her.”

“I know,” Aegon angled his chair and slumped slightly. “But you did. Over and over. I saw it. Not just with your adultery, but every time you did not come home when she asked. Whenever you took Vhagar into battle without warning her – and us. And each day you weren’t here when those babes put her through the seven hells with – ”

Aemond’s heart stopped, and his entire world with it.

“‘Babes?’”

Aegon’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t say that.”

The same blatant liar he’d been for years.

“You did,” Aemond insisted, his rage at himself now turning on his king, his mother, and everyone else who had kept this secret from him – other than his ābrazȳrītsos. He could still never be angry with her. “Why did you say that?”

After a moment of frustrated silence, Aegon finally answered. “Because the Maesters have determined that your wife is carrying twins. Something you would know if you had come home when we asked.”

“I was fighting your war,” Aemond growled, rising to his feet so his brother could no longer look down at him, “to defend your throne. It was not always possible for me to return.”

“You mean it was ‘never’ possible, right?” In that moment, Aegon truly seemed a king – mature and wise for the first time Aemond had ever seen. He almost resembled their father, as he had been on the few occasions they saw him sit the throne. “You never returned. Not for your duties, and not for your wife.”

“I…”

“If you’d come home immediately after you first fucked whoever-she-is, or any other time we summoned you, perhaps things would be better. But you didn’t, and now you must deal with the consequences of your own stupid mistakes. Again.”

Aemond flinched at the harsh words but could not deny their veracity. The death of Lucerys Velaryon had sparked a war that nearly tore House Targaryen and the realm apart. Now this… this could tear his marriage apart.

His family could be broken beyond repair before their child – their children – were ever born.

A scar-mottled hand grabbed his arm, pulling him away from his despair. “I apologize. I did not come here to make you feel worse than I am sure you already do.”

“Why did you come, then?” Aemond stared at the mangled hand that held him still. He could not bear to look in his brother’s eyes.

Aegon sighed. “I am sending you back to Harrenhal.”

“No.” Aemond ripped his arm away.

“Brother, the peace talks…”

“I said no.” He clenched his fists.

Aegon slammed his hand down on the arm of his chair, the sound echoing through the Sept. “I am your king, and I am giving you an order! You do not get to say ‘no.’”

Aemond froze, his rage roiling, desperate to spill over. But Aegon was his king, and other than his ābrazȳrītsos, his duty to the throne and his family was the thing most dear to him. So, he remained still and silent as he listened without protest.

“Cregan Stark and his army are due to arrive at Harrenhal in mere days,” Aegon explained. “I am in no condition to travel so far, and it would insult Stark and the others who were loyal to Rhaenyra to ask them to travel even further. So, as you are still Prince Regent, you will return to the Riverlands and act as my proxy in the negotiations.”

Absorbed by all that had happened since he’d arrived in King’s Landing, Aemond had entirely forgotten that particular duty. He’d known he had to attend before he left, but how could he go now? What would his wife think if he went back to Harrenhal – where Alys remained – so soon?

“You will take our sister with you.”

“I cannot,” the weak, whispered words escaped him without thought, “I cannot do that to her. You cannot do that to her.”

Somehow, the idea of bringing her with him to Harrenhal was worse than returning there himself. What would happen if she saw Alys? Spoke to her? She was already so hurt, and he did not want her to break entirely. He could not stand it. He would not allow it.

“Aegon, please,” he begged, dignity cast aside in favor of protecting his ābrazȳrītsos. “Do not make her go.”

The king straightened in his chair. “I wish I did not have to. She has already endured so much, and I have no desire to cause her more pain. But I have no other option.”

“Why? What could be more important than keeping her safe?”

Aegon’s face was drawn and filled with regret and grief. “Ensuring the realm sees you as a strong king when I am gone.”

The silence that followed was heavier than the Red Keep itself, and Aemond’s heart grew heavier still when he realized what his brother meant.

“You do not have much time left, do you?”

“Likely only a few months, according to the Maesters. But I’ll be gone by year’s end,” Aegon answered, trying and failing to summon a wry smile. “It’s almost not worth it to un-name you Prince Regent, when the crown will soon be yours once more.”

Silence fell once more.

Aemond wanted to argue. Against going to Harrenhal. Against bringing her with him. Against being king. For if he was king…

“She will be bound to me forever,” he said, not realizing he was saying it aloud, “in a way far stronger than just our shared blood or marriage. She will never be able to leave me.”

Aegon gripped the arm of his chair tighter. “Is that what you want?”

“I…” Yes. No. Aemond fumbled for his words, running a hand down his face as his thoughts raced through his mind like a thousand whirling dragons. “I want her to stay with me, but not at the cost of her happiness.”

Aegon considered the answer, the picture of a king passing judgment. At last, he nodded once. “Even if she decides she hates you, she will not leave. Her sense of duty is nearly as strong as yours, and she would never wish to raise the babes without their father.” He gestured to himself, then Aemond. “She knows well what becomes of children with no true father.”

There came a knock on the Sept door before Aemond could say anything more

Aegon sighed. “It is time for you to leave, I’m afraid. The wheelhouse is waiting.”

“What about – ”

Aegon waved a hand. “Mother went to your rooms this morning to explain the situation to her and help her prepare for the journey.”

“Can we not simply fly?” Aemond did not want for her to have to be stuck with him for the entire journey. The gods forbid that they should be made to share a tent or room at a roadside inn. Though doing so would delight him. He’d missed her so much that he would gladly take any moment he could with her, even when she was so angry with him.

Because she would be angry with him, and spending time with him would do nothing but make her miserable. Her happiness was more important than his. Always.

His brother scoffed as he began wheeling down the aisle toward the door. “Not in her condition.”

Of course. Aemond felt a fool for not realizing it himself. He’d flown Vhagar with Alys, but… she was not as far along as his wife, nor as delicate. A carriage it must be.

He should never have flown with Alys. Not for her sake or that of her child, but because flying atop Vhagar was something he did with his ābrazȳrītsos. It was something sacred they shared, and he had willfully desecrated it.

Gods, he had to get Alys out of his head. He could never become the husband his wife deserved when the witch still haunted his every thought.

Aegon stopped at the threshold of the Sept, again reaching out to grab Aemond’s arm. His eyes glinted with violent promise as he locked eyes with his brother. “If you do anything to hurt her again, intentional or not, I will exile you to Essos, and you will never see her again. I will declare you dead and marry her myself to ensure her children inherit the throne.”

“She deserves a better husband than you,” Aemond spat. It would break him never to see her or their children. But he knew he would deserve it.

The king smiled wickedly, still only a shadow of his former self. “She deserves better than the both of us, brother.”

Aemond bit back his retort and inclined his head to his king as he had at the coronation. “I swear on my life, I will never hurt her again.”

-

Aemond was waiting for her in the courtyard when she finally left the castle, well bundled in a thick, fur-lined cloak. The weather had turned, a final storm of the departing winter. Now, the sky reflected her mood – gray and somber.

At least the explosiveness of her anger had calmed, and she was relatively sure she wouldn’t strangle Aemond along the journey. But to go to Harrenhal with him, to be in the very place where he had betrayed her, to face the woman who carried her husband’s bastard …

She could be brave. She had to be brave. This was her duty, and her duty was sacred.

Aemond had taught her that.

She did not acknowledge him as she kissed her mother and brother farewell, nor as she walked to the steps set at the wheelhouse door.

But then he held out his hand to help her in.

Reluctantly, she took it. The brief touch was marginally more tolerable than the possibility of her stumbling and him having to catch her by the arm or, gods forbid, her waist. That would be far too much of a touch, and she was not sure she was ready for it – if she would ever be ready for it.

He stepped in just behind her, the two of them standing there for a moment, wondering where to sit. In the past, they’d always sat next to each other at the rear of the wheelhouse, with her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist. But now, the thought of doing so again made her nauseous. So, she turned to the seat in the front.

“Wait,” Aemond grabbed her shoulder, then immediately released it when he saw her wince. He cleared his throat, then motioned to the opposite seat with his hand. “Please, sit here. I don’t want you getting sick riding backward.”

She looked from the seat to his wary smile. Surely he didn’t expect her to still sit with him, did he?

“I’ll sit on the other side,” he added after a prolonged moment of silence.

“Thank you,” she whispered with a nod of her head. But when she began walking to the rear seat, Aemond again stopped her.

“Before you sit, let me…” he trailed off, stepping to the front seat and gathering most of the pillows and cushions that lay atop it into his arms. Then, he deposited them on the other side. He spent several minutes arranging them until they were finally to his liking. “There.”

He reached out his hand again to help her sit. This time, she did not take it. She was more than capable of sitting down on her own, and she was well aware that Aemond knew that, too. He was merely trying to touch her again, and that, she would not allow.

Once she sat, Aemond began fussing again. “Please stop,” she sighed when he started crossing the wheelhouse to fetch even more pillows. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I do need to do this,” he insisted. She could have sworn his eye shone before he turned back to the pillows and blankets. “I want you to be comfortable. You deserve it.”

“A few pillows will not make me forgive you.” For a moment, as Aemond’s shoulders tightened, she almost regretted the words. She had spoken in haste and with cruelty. It was not something she was accustomed to. Somehow, his misdeeds were turning her into a mean and petty woman.

She was just about to apologize when Aemond spoke again, his voice more timid than it had been. “I know that, but I want to do it anyway. I want to show you how much I love you. Please.”

He looked at her pleadingly, desperately. It had been many years since he looked at her like that. When she was a girl, and she fell gravely ill, he stayed by her bedside against the instructions of the Maesters, holding her hand and begging her not to die. She had to look away from him to avoid falling into that memory.

“I am perfectly comfortable,” she said. “So you needn’t do anything more.”

With a sigh, Aemond threw the pillows in his arms carelessly on his seat, except for one – a small round cushion with the Targaryen three-headed dragon embroidered upon it. “Just this one more, please.”

She looked at it suspiciously, some instinct in the back of her mind telling her not to allow it. But his voice was so weak, so desperate. And if it could help her be more comfortable on the long journey, what harm would it do? She nodded. “Very well.”

Aemond beamed and crossed the wheelhouse. With the pillow in hand, he knelt in front of her and brought a hand to hover over her belly. Before he made contact, he looked up to her, a hopeful smile still on his lips.

But that smile was no longer reassuring to her. Instead, it brought on a wave of mistrust and fear. “What are you doing?”

Finally, he laid his hand on her. “I…” His cheeks flushed, and he suddenly could not meet her eye. “This is to cradle your belly while we ride so you are not rattled around so much.”

Her hand flew out and latched onto his wrist, her hold so hard the skin around her hand quickly grew red. She did not want to see him, so she narrowed her eyes until her coming tears blurred her vision. It took several tries for her to speak through her rapid breathing. “Did Alys teach you that, too?”

Aemond looked as if she had just driven a dagger through his heart. “She did, but –”

“I told you never to do that!” She ripped the pillow from his hands and threw it across the wheelhouse with all her strength.

He stayed kneeling, one hand braced on her seat. He had not flinched, only closed his eyes. “Wifey, if it makes you comfortable, if it helps you, then what does it matter how I learned it?”

“Because…” She furiously wiped her tears away, steadfastly looking away from him. “I don’t want you to think about her when you’re touching me.”

“I promise I am not thinking of her,” he insisted. “I could never think of her when I have with me.”

“No, only when I’m hundreds of miles away.”

He closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath, his hand never leaving her belly. “How long have you known?” Aemond rasped out. “That we are to have two babes?”

Her eyes widened in surprise at the words. How had he known? Who had told him? She did not look at him, did not want him to see the blush of shame that came over her. If either of them should be ashamed, it was him. What he did was far worse than keeping a secret, even one as important as this.

“It was meant to be a surprise,” she whispered. “But you did not come back when you were meant to – you were supposed to return and give Aegon a report on the war. You didn’t.”

Aemond bowed his head, hiding his cheeks – likely just as flushed as hers. He sniffed, as he often did when upset, and shook his head. “If I had known – ”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” she snapped back. “Your… she was already pregnant by then, wasn’t she?”

For a moment, Aemond looked up at her in pleading before dropping his head again. “Yes,” his voice was thin and utterly defeated, “she was.” He reached to adjust the pillow by her side but decided against it. Then, he returned to the seat across from her, looking at her once before bowing his head and pounding on the roof twice.

Reins snapped, and the wheelhouse lurched forward.

-

The first hours in the wheelhouse passed in silence. Aemond hardly moved, staring at his clasped hands. She thought she felt his eyes on her several times, but whenever she looked at him, he did not look back.

She watched the world pass her by through the windows. She’d never gone north of King’s Landing before, other than a few short flights on Vhagar with Aemond. Then, she was too high to see the little differences, mile by mile. The trees changed and became sparser, as did the shrubs and flowers. The air felt different, as did the ground beneath the wheelhouse, which became softer and less turbulent the farther they went. Even the smell of the air changed. The slight brine she was so used to faded, turning into something green and damp. It was not an unpleasant change.

What was unpleasant was trying to fall asleep within the mountain of pillows and cushions Aemond had made for her. Once, she would have loved the plushness and softness of it. But with the babes in her belly, she had come to prefer more firmness.

She would have moved the pillows herself had she been able to. But between the sheer mass of cushions and her current size, maneuvering enough to do so was impossible. Grand Maester Orwyle had said even two months away from the birth, she was already larger than most mothers just before it. Of course, most mothers only had one babe to carry, not two. So, she was left with only wiggling around as much as she could to try and find a better position.

She didn’t.

With a huff, she looked at Aemond, hoping to silently glare at him and curse him for the stuffed throne he’d made for her. But this time, when she looked at him, he was looking back.

He wore an expression of concern, like he’d been watching her struggle for some time. His eye was wide, and his lips pinched together. She knew that look, and found herself now hating it. It meant he wanted to help, to understand what was wrong.

“I cannot get comfortable,” she explained, not that he deserved an explanation.

A spark of hope entered Aemond’s eye. “Do you…” he licked his lips. “I can hold you, if you’d like.”

“No!” She felt a slight pang of guilt at the hurt painted on his face at her rejection. He did not deserve her guilt, she reminded herself. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Aemond grimaced as if he could sense the lie. He probably could, for how well he knew her. “Are you sure? I can… I can just hold you. It won’t mean anything, I promise.”

Yes, yes, yes, her body seemed to scream. She had always found comfort in his arms, always slept best with him pressed against her. And him holding her would mean he would have to discard many of the ridiculous pillows. If she accepted, she could likely be asleep in moments.

But her heart… her heart would break to be held by him. She wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about if he had held Alys in this same way. If the whore had slept with her head resting on Aemond’s shoulders. If she had kissed his neck as she fell asleep, just as she had loved to do.

She would never be able to stop thinking about Alys. Every time Aemond looked at her, touched her, spoke to her. Alys would be a ghost that would haunt her forever.

A memory of the first time Aemond had taken her to the Dragonpit came to her.

He’d told her she couldn’t come with him, but relented the moment she started crying and dragged her into the carriage with him, Aegon, and Rhaenyra’s eldest sons. Jacaerys was the only one who argued against her accompanying them. He stopped complaining after Aemond shot him a threatening glare and declared that she was braver and more capable than he would ever be. But when they arrived at the Dragonpit, and Sunfyre was led up from the dens, she’d cowered behind Aemond. The sweet little creature - perhaps the size of one of the king’s hounds - she had once watched flit around Aegon wherever he went had somehow quickly turned into a beast larger than anything she’d ever seen, baring sharp teeth the size of her dinner knives. Aegon kneeled in front of her and nudged her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t worry, haedus. He won’t hurt you, I promise.” She still screamed when Aegon stepped within reach of those fangs. And again, when Aemond pulled her from behind his back so she could not hide from the dragon. “Do not be afraid, haedus. Sunfyre is only a dragon, as are you. The blood of the dragon runs true in your veins,” he said as she buried her face in her chest. Something about the words seemed to make Jace angry, but she didn’t know why. “I can’t help it, lēkia,” she whined. “He’s scaring me.” Aemond huffed slightly, petting her head tenderly. “You are afraid because you know very little about dragons. What we do not know can be terrifying.” He turned her to face Sunfyre, who was now perfectly docile while being saddled by Aegon. She squirmed to escape his grasp. “If you watch and listen to the Dragonkeepers, you will learn. The more you learn, the less afraid you will be.”

“Why did you do it?” she asked suddenly.

“My love?” Aemond looked at her as if she’d sprouted horns. But when she held his stare, he whispered gently, “You don’t want to know. Not really.”

“I do,” she declared.Though his answer may shatter her heart completely, she had to know. His childhood voice echoed in her head. ‘The more you learn, the less afraid you will be.’

She swore she could see him remember the same memory she had. His eye darted around the wheelhouse anxiously. “It is not a good reason.”

“Unless she held you at sword point each time, there is not a reason I would call ‘good.’” She hoped it was something like that, that he hadn’t been given the choice to refuse her. It would make everything better, almost fine. But if it had been something like that, he would have already told her.

Aemond was silent for a long while. Long enough for the sun to reach its peak and begin its descent.

“I’d seen only one battle before I arrived at Harrenhal – Rook’s Rest,” he began. “In that battle, one dragon and rider were killed, and Aegon and Sunfyre were permanently wounded.”

“I know,” she whispered. She’d been there when Aemond had brought Aegon, broken, bloody, and burnt, back to the castle. She’d seen what happened to him. Aemond held her hair back as she was sick in the corridor outside the Grand Maester’s rooms.

Aemond nodded. “I was so afraid, ābrazȳrītsos, of what I would see when I truly went to war. And it was just as terrible as I’d feared. Even worse than what happened to Aegon, sometimes.” He waited to continue until she had unscrunched her eyes as she fought away another wave of nausea. “Every time I was scared, raqiarzītsos... And alone. She offered an escape. A chance to not think about the war, for at least a little while.”

“And to not think about me.”

He blanched, moving to stand, but thought better of it and sat back in his seat. “My love, I never wanted to stop thinking about you. I promise. I thought about you every moment of every day. You are what gave me the strength to ride to battle again and again – knowing that once it was all over, I’d be able to return to you.”

She glared at him. “So, you thought about me while you were fucking her?”

“Gods, no!” This time, he did rise, crossing the wheelhouse to fall at her feet. “I… I didn’t think about anything when I was with her. Not about you, or the war, or even her. It was the only way I could empty my mind of all the things that tormented me.”

“… I tormented you?” The idea that she could have done anything to make him want to forget her brought tears to her eyes.

“No. Never.” He tried to reach for her to cup her cheek, but she shrank away from him. “Don’t ever think that you could. What tormented me was that I was so far from you – that I could not be there for you. And the babes.”

He could have been, she knew. He should have been. “You had many opportunities to return. Why didn’t you?” Her voice caught in the back of her throat as a sob tried to escape. “Were you too ashamed of what you’d done?”

“I was and am ashamed,” he declared, and she believed him, “but that is not why I remained at Harrenhal. I knew that if I saw you again, I would never return to the battlefield. It was hard enough to leave you the first time. I could not endure it again.”

There was silence.

She leaned back towards him and allowed him to finally lay his hand across her cheek – an unconscious attempt to soften the blow of her next question. “Is it true that you spared her only because you lusted for her? That you took her to your bed in your first week at that awful place?”

Aemond sobbed, one horrible, wretched sob. His hand dropped, and he lowered his head into her lap, clutching at her dress like a child. The urge to comfort him tingled in her veins, to pet his hair and murmur soft words to him, to gently remove his eyepatch and assure him that all was well.

She did not move an inch.

At last, Aemond lifted his head. The bottom of his eyepatch was just askew enough to allow the tears from his ruined eye to escape. “I spared her because she claimed to be a witch – a seer. The claim was backed by several residents of the keep who had no reason to lie. She offered to lend me her aid in the war, to share her visions with me so I could be prepared when I led my men to battle. I agreed. I wanted to avoid the kind of slaughter I saw at Rook’s Rest. To prevent anyone from going through what happened to our brother. Then…

“I did lie with her in the first week,” he turned away as though he couldn’t say the words while facing her. “On the sixth day. We were to advance on Darry the next morning, to… it doesn’t matter why, just that it was the first time I would lead men to victory of their deaths. I asked Alys to share her vision of what would occur, and she did. She saw how fearful I was and told me that to win the battle, I must go into it without fear. I tried to calm myself, but I couldn’t.”

He swallowed thickly, still avoiding her gaze, and dropped his hand. “Then she offered her… further aid. I will not wound you by detailing what we did. But I will assure you that I did resist.” He licked his lips. “At least at first.”

A small comfort, she supposed.

“When I was with her, all my worries faded to nothing. I thought it was perhaps a spell she put on me, but it was not. My body just needed to find that satisfaction and release. I was hoping it was a spell. For that would mean I did not truly betray you.”

He faced her again. She did not know whether it comforted or saddened her to look into his wet, despairing eye. “But I did. And I continued to do so every time my fear threatened to overwhelm me. Which was, regrettably, often.

“I was weak,” he said with a mirthless laugh, “I was so weak. I should have been braver – better. I should have been the husband you deserve. I will spend every day of my life regretting it and trying to right what I have done wrong. I swear it.” He nodded as if to affirm the oath, yet it brought her no assurance. “I am so sorry, my love.”

He said nothing else.

She still had so many questions, wanted to know so much more. Her fears had barely been quelled. But it was something. And at the very least, the emotions Aemond’s story subjected her to had exhausted her. Enough that she knew she could close her eyes and be asleep within a heartbeat.

“Thank you. For telling me,” she whispered as she moved back in her seat, away from him. “I would like to rest now.”

Aemond bowed his head and retreated to his seat without asking again if he could hold her.

Her traitorous heart almost wished he had.

-

It was raining when she woke. The weather had apparently followed them north. She leaned closer to the window, wanting the wet air to cool her, but stopped when she noticed the wheelhouse wasn’t moving.

“Ser Marston and one of the porters are arranging rooms,” Aemond said softly. She did not reply, nor look at him. A glance out the window informed her that they were in some village she didn’t know, outside a relatively large building whose worn sign, cut in the shape of a stone wall, read simply ‘Inn.’

That question answered, she still didn’t look at Aemond. She knew he’d likely been watching her since they’d arrived… wherever they were. Perhaps longer. Judging by the dusk settling over the horizon, she’d been sleeping quite a while. And yet she hadn’t woken. She wondered if she should start sleeping during the day instead of at night.

“Mother said…” Aemond halted, likely waiting for her to look at him. She didn’t. “We will be sharing a room.”

She whipped her head around to face him, ignoring the slight dizziness that came with the motion. “No.”

Aemond sighed. “Raqiarzītsos, if the innkeeper notices we are apart, he may talk about it. Rumors will start.”

“Can’t we just pay him to remain silent? That’s what Mother did to prevent rumors from spreading about Aegon.”

“And yet rumors spread nevertheless,” his voice was soft and firm, like a parent explaining something to their child. The thought sickened her.

She wanted to say that those rumors spread because their mother could not pay off every woman Aegon had his way with – there had been too many to even know who they all were. But it had been their mother herself who told her that this would happen, that she would have to somehow stomach being in the same room as Aemond at night. That the consequences of not doing so would be worse than those that would come from him being there.

“You will not sleep in the bed,” she ordered, finally facing her husband, “you will sleep on whatever chair or couch is in the room or the floor if there is none.”

Aemond sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “Very well.”

Curious, she’d expected more of a fight. For him to insist that a servant could see the half-empty bed and raise questions. For him to try and ply her into letting him into the bed with promises of holding her and keeping her warm. For him to try something. But he didn’t.

“Good.”

-

It was not a very nice room.

The paint was chipping off the walls, and the floorboards creaked. The bed linens were faded, the fur blankets patchy. The small table on one side leaned to one side, and an unshaped piece of wood held the couch by the fire level.

At least there was a couch, Aemond supposed. And as it was near the fire, he would not have to sleep in the cold to avoid depriving his wife of blankets.

She crossed the room to the bed, sitting on its edge and looking out the window again. After he’d agreed that he would not try and convince her to let him join her in the bed, she’d spent the rest of their time waiting in the carriage looking out one window, then crossing to the other side of the wheelhouse just before they were called to their room.

Even now, he could see her eyes flitting from one building to another, following the villagers as they milled about and fixating on the livestock that wandered the streets – cows, donkeys, sheep, even a small group of piglets.

He thought it was a distraction at first. But when she continued to watch the inconsequential town for far longer than he ever would, even in a new town, he realized it was something more. When she quirked her head slightly to the right and the ghost of a smile flitted over her lips, he knew what it was.

This was the first village she’d ever been in.

She was born in King’s Landing, and other than their trip to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral… she’d never left the city.

Something in Aemond’s heart cracked. He should have done something, taken her on adventures. He should have brought her on Vhagar and flown her wherever her heart desired.

But he hadn’t. He’d left her in King’s Landing, in the Red Keep. In a cage.

But now… her first trip away from the capital was one she didn’t want to be on. It wasn’t a happy occasion. And their destination was likely the place of her worst nightmares.

He should never have let Aegon order him to bring her to Harrenhal.

Aemond opened his mouth to apologize to her again but said nothing. She had already been forced to be stuck in a wheelhouse with him for most of the day. The kindest thing he could do would be to let her alone for as long as he could.

So, he went towards the door, turning back over his shoulder to look at her for a moment. She was still watching the village. It made him smile a bit. “I’m going to get supper. I’ll be back in a short while.”

She did not say anything back. She only lifted a hand to rest on the window.

-

She’d hardly noticed that Aemond had left. When he told her where he was going, she had just seen a small group of children playing in the muddy road. One of the little girls had spotted her watching from the window and shouted something to her friends. Soon, all the children were staring at her. She lifted a hand to the window to wave at them.

Then, she heard the door closing, and when she turned to look, Aemond was gone.

When she looked back to the children, they had already run off. Her hand drifted to her abdomen. “Nyke urnēbagon jemī tymāt umban daor.” I cannot wait to watch you play.

Before Aemond left for Harrenhal, he had taken her back to the nursery where they’d been raised. The furniture had been covered, as neither Jaehaera nor Rhaenyra’s son Aegon were inclined toward play. Not after what they went through. So, both had moved to their own rooms when they returned to the keep.

But the nursery would not be empty for long.

Aemond had pulled away the sheet covering the toy chest and knelt before it, examining each toy as though it were a priceless jewel. He told stories about them, recalling how they had played with them, and made guesses about which ones their child would prefer and what their choices would foretell about them.

He rediscovered the two wooden dragons they had once painted and named for themselves – Kēlītsos and Balerion. There were too many tales of those little dragons to retell them all, so he told only the one where they imagined the dragons had come alive and had flown them to the ruins of Old Valyria. Aemond would slay whatever beasts had wounded Balerion and killed their great-aunt, Aerea. Then, they would reclaim their ancestral homeland.

He’d kissed her belly then, calling the babe inside the “heir of Old Valyria.”

Now, they were the heir – heirs – to something else entirely.

To a broken family.

To a throne soaked in the blood of their kin.

To the sins of their father.

For a moment, she wished they could simply be like those children, playing without a care.

But they never would be.

They would still be children. They would still play and laugh. They would be mischievous and sneak sweets from the kitchens or stay awake long past the time they were sent to bed. They would still cry for their parents when they scraped a knee or had a nightmare.

But they would also be heirs. They would be taught by the finest scholars in the world how to bear the weight of their responsibilities. They would be trained by mighty warriors on how to defend themselves from the enemies they would have since birth. They would always know that their life was never wholly theirs.

Now, they would also always know that their father had betrayed their mother. She knew that no matter how hard she tried to prevent it, somehow, they would learn of Aemond’s mistress – the mother of their bastard half-sibling.

Part of her hated that child, the small thing that was not even fully formed and yet was the manifestation of all her pain.

Part of her, perhaps a larger part, pitied it.

After all, it was a bastard. The world had never been kind to bastards. After the role bastards had played in the war, she could not imagine it would grow any kinder.

What would the life of the bastard be like? Would it play the same games as her children? Would it have the same favorite toys, or foods, or colors?

While its trueborn siblings were learning to rule the realm and ride dragons, what would it do? Perhaps it would be a servant, like its mother, or become a laborer of some kind.

Would it know who its father was? Would it know the blood of the dragon ran through its veins? Would it ache for a bond with a dragon, as Aemond had? Would it spend its life feeling incomplete, yet never know why?

As she caught sight of the tears shining on her cheeks in her reflection off the window, she decided she did not hate the child. It was not at fault for the sins of its mother, or its father.

She said a brief prayer for it – for its health and happiness. Then one for her own children.

When Aemond came back through the door, carrying a tray laden with steaming food, she wiped her tears away and looked only once more out the window.

The children had gone home.

“Are you hungry, ābrazȳrītsos?” Aemond asked.

No, she wasn’t. But she knew she must eat regardless, for the sake of the babes. So, she crossed the room and sat at the small table.

She did not speak as Aemond served her the meal – fresh, steaming bread, warm stew, and a pot of tea. He did not try and get her to speak. He simply ate his food, watching her carefully.

He faded into the background as her thoughts continued to wander to that poor little child growing in Alys’ womb.

Would it have silver hair? Purple eyes? Or would it inherit its mother’s coloring, whatever it was?

She did not know what Alys looked like. She knew so little about the woman who had shared in Aemond’s sin.

Was she beautiful? Was she intelligent? Was she kind?

It was hard to imagine that she would be kind. That any woman who would lie with a married man would be kind. After all, she was called a witch. Was there such a thing as a kind witch?

Was there even such a thing as a witch?

Aemond said that he spared Alys because she could foretell the future. That the reason he’d first brought her into his bed was because she told him he needed to be calm for the battle ahead if he wished to prevail.

Prevail he did.

Were the visions real, then? Had Aemond only returned from that first battle, the second, the last, because of what Alys had told him?

If Alys were to thank for Aemond surviving the war, should she not be grateful for it? But how could she be grateful for something that had so thoroughly broken her heart?

How was she supposed to feel? How was she supposed to know what to feel? What to do?

“I want to meet her,” she said suddenly. Even her whisper sounded like an echoing shout after so long a silence.

Aemond stared at her. Fear and regret and anger in his gaze. His mouth hung open, and his skin had gone deathly pale.

“Alys,” she clarified. “I want to meet her.”

“My love, please. You don’t.” His voice quavered like a rose in a thunderstorm. “I don’t want you to, it won’t – ”

“I have questions for her. I will ask them.” Tears fell down Aemond’s cheeks, but he did not argue. It almost made her smile. “You may be there if you wish. But I will meet her.”

Aemond nodded. “If that is what you truly want.”

She felt no fear or hesitation. “It is.”

-

After she finished her meal, her exhaustion finally settled upon her. It had only been a day since Aemond returned to the Red Keep. Only a day since both the war and her world ended.

She just wanted to sleep. In that moment, it was all she wanted.

She had Aemond turn away as she undressed and donned her nightgown. He obeyed, staring into the fire and never once looking back until she was beneath the rough-spun blankets on the bed and gave him permission.

He only removed his leather doublet and his boots before settling onto the couch by the fire, its high back blocking them from each other’s view.

The fire crackled.

“Good night, ābrazȳrītsos,” Aemond said. “Sleep well. I love you.”

She did not reply.

She so badly wanted to sleep. But it seemed both her body and the babes in her belly wanted otherwise. No matter how she lay, she could not find comfort. No matter what she thought of, her mind would not calm.

At least she took comfort in that her restlessness was likely preventing Aemond from finding sleep as well.

When she heard his voice again, she stiffened, preparing herself to argue with him again. But Aemond did not speak.

He sang.

“Bantis ropatas Night has fallen

Yn zūgagon daor But do not fear

Sȳndror ilos daor There is no darkness

Kesrio syt drakarys vamiot ilzai. For dragonfire is near.”

It was a lullaby. One he had discovered in an Old Valyrian children’s book he found in the back of the Red Keep’s library. He had sung it to her when she was still in her crib so he could practice their ancestral language.

He stopped singing for some time when his voice settled, adjusting to the new, lower pitch. But when he began again, it was even more beautiful than before. Quiet and soft, but still beautiful.

“Yn ozelēnagon daor And shiver not

Vasīr vēzos hembistas Though the sun has gone

Drakarys kesīr ilzai Dragonfire is here

Aōhi dijaves rāelagon. To keep you warm.”

When was the last time he sang to her? Obviously not in the past six months, but when?

“Aōhi bartos mazilībās Lay down your head

Se aōhī laehossa lēdes And close your eyes

Drakarys avy mīsilza Dragonfire will protect you

Yn sepār kesan. And so too will I.”

Ah, her eyes welled with tears when she finally remembered. It had been the first night after they learned they were to have a babe, and Aemond had bedded her more passionately than he had since their wedding night and more gently than he had ever been.

He sang when they were spent, and she curled into him to sleep. Aemond brushed his fingers in light patterns over her belly and sang. But was that for her or the babe?

The last time he had sung for her and only her… she could not recall. It had been some ordinary day when she did not know she should hold onto that memory and keep it close. She did not know it was a memory she would need when Aemond went to war.

“Dōnī ēdrurī emilās, ñuha raqno Dream sweetly, my love

Bantio rȳ ēdrūs Sleep all through the night

Nyke aōma unna I will be with you

Vapār ōños arlī amāzīlza. Until again there is light.”

She wanted to be angry at him, accuse him of only singing now so he could worm his way back into her heart. But she knew that accusation would be false. After the way he fussed over her today, she knew he was truly worried for her health – and the health of the babes.

Besides, his voice and the familiarity of the song were now truly lulling her to sleep.

She was grateful for it.

“Skorī ñāqes kesīr ilos When morning is here

Se īlvon geron vamiot ilza And our journey is nigh

Īlon henkirī īlvī zaldrīzī kipili We will both mount our dragons

Sepār, sōvīlā.” Then, we will fly.”

Her last thought before her eyes slid closed was that she hoped he had not sung the lullaby – their lullaby – to Alys or her child.

-

Aemond woke to the sound of something crashing. He was immediately awake, throwing off his blanket and bolting to his feet. But he saw no one.

What he did see was an empty bed.

In an instant, his panic had risen to a peak it had reached only once before – the day he’d found out that his half-sister and her husband had taken King’s Landing, and in the aftermath, Aegon was missing and his ābrazȳrītsos was now in the hands of his enemies.

A horrible retching soon alerted him to his wife’s presence on the floor of the room, halfway between the bed and the washbasin against the far wall. But it did not quell his panic.

She was panting between harsh bouts of sickness, her arms trembling as they struggled to hold her up. Aemond moved immediately, kneeling beside her and sweeping her hair away from her face. His words of comfort and concern died instantly when he felt her lean against him.

She was so thin.

Her nightgown was soaked through with sweat, allowing him a clear and horrible view of every knob on her spine and curve of her ribs. The further she pressed into him, the more he could feel the sharp planes of her shoulder blades and the sickening lightness of her form. She was like some of the near-corpses he’d seen in the war – hardly more than skin stretched taut over mere bones.

He had not seen it before. She’d been bundled in robes and gowns and furs. And when she changed into her nightgown earlier this evening, she had not allowed him to look at her until she was buried beneath the blankets.

She knew.

She knew how frail she was. He knew and had not wanted him to know…

Had not wanted him to worry. Not while he was at war.

“Ābrazȳrītsos…”

She sobbed once before she was sick again. He said nothing else until he was relatively certain whatever illness had possessed her passed, and tried not to be too grateful that she didn’t push him away.

“Little darling, please,” he pulled her closer so he could rest against his chest. She did not resist. “What happened?”

She shook her head, reaching to wipe her mouth with the sleeve of her nightgown. Aemond stopped her, set her hand back on her lap, and used his own sleeve instead. She sighed as if the gesture somehow upset her, then slumped slightly. “Nothing happened. Nothing new, at least. This happens nearly every night.”

Every night. No wonder she was so thin.

“Still?” Aemond finally managed to ask in a rasping voice. She had been so sick in those early days – it was what had prompted them to take her to the Maesters, where they discovered she was with child. But it had gotten better in the days before he left for Harrenhal. She had said it was getting better.

She nodded, her eyes shut tight as she turned away from him. Was it from exhaustion or shame? “It…” she swallowed, and Aemond realized how dry her throat must be. He would fetch her something to drink as soon as she could stand. “It never stopped.”

“Oh ābrazȳrītsos…” his voice broke as the realization of how badly she had been suffering sank in. And all the while, he’d been sharing his bed with another woman.

If the Father truly cared for justice, he would have struck Aemond dead the moment he touched that witch.

Aemond held her close, panting with the effort it took to hold back his tears of shame. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She was silent for a long while. Then, “I’m tired, Aemond.”

“I know.”

A long pause. It took him longer than it should have to realize she was looking at him and longer still to recognize the plea in her eyes. She wanted his help. Or perhaps more accurately, needed his help.

So help her he did, eagerly. He sat her at one of the chairs by the table while he removed her soiled nightgown and dressed her in another. He brought the washbasin to her so he could help her wash her face, then brought her a pitcher of fresh water so she could rinse her mouth. He braided her hair once more and carried her back to bed,

Once he’d pulled the blankets back over her, he reached out to her. When she didn’t flinch away, he softly stroked her cheek. “Is there anything else I can get you, my love?”

She opened her eyes just slightly. “I’m cold.”

He turned on his heel to fetch his blanket from the couch. There was still warmth radiating from the hearth. He could move to the rug.

But when he’d settled that blanket on her as well, she opened her eyes wider and gazed up at him. “Aemond…”

If there was ever proof that the gods could be merciful, that was it.

Still, he had to be certain he wasn’t mistaken. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. Thank all the gods in the world, she nodded.

His veins buzzing with ecstatic joy, he walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in beside her. As he wrapped his arms around her, it almost didn’t matter that he could feel her frailness, that he knew she had only asked this because she truly was cold, or that his touch was tainted by his sins.

Aemond was sharing a bed with his wife. He was holding her. Her, and their children.

When her breathing finally settled, and she drifted off to sleep, Aemond closed his eyes, tucked his face into her hair, and prayed he dreamt of a world where he had slain Alys the moment he first saw her.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Some Bunny Loves You!

Pairing: Legend x Reader

Warning(s): Completely shameless smut. You're welcome.

Notes: Written for the amazing @h4wari, I SEE YOU BESTIE!!

Masterlist

If there was one thing you loved about traveling with a bunch of heroes on a quest to save Hyrule, it was that you were never alone. Having lived quietly for most of your life, their rambunctious presence was nothing short of a godsend, even if it meant you had to walk over ten miles daily and occasionally suffer at the hands of Hyrule's "delicious" cooking.

The forest was unusually alive–the chirping birds and rustling leaves creating a symphony that weaved through the trees with unusual grace–as you trudged down the worn path, heading for the river Sky had offhandedly mentioned over last night's salmon risotto. It had been a bit since you'd treated yourself to a proper bath, and you were determined to make the most of the rare time off.

You followed the path as it veered left, adjusting your heavy pack over your shoulders, already imagine how good the water would feel–once you got over the chill, of course. A glance over your shoulder confirmed that you were indeed alone, not that you expected anyone to follow you when you announced your intention to bathe. Legend had even walked in the opposite direction of the river in a supposed quest to gather berries for Wild's next cooking creation, which was honestly amazing of him.

Rustle.

You stilled as a quiet rustling noise came from a large shrub on the outskirts of the path, instinctively reaching for the dagger Legend had gifted you a few months ago. "Who's there?" you called out, giving whatever was out there a chance to come out before shit got nasty. "If you don't come out, I'm going to–"

Rustle.

You advanced on the bush, the gleaming blade clenched tightly in your fist... until the bush shook thickly and a pink blur shot from the bottom of it. You yelped, gingerly sidestepping the blur as it shot straight for your feet, revealing a... was that a rabbit?

You immediately dropped to a squat, sheathing your dagger as you studied the creature. It was on the larger size, fur pinker than the horizon at dawn, wearing what appeared to be a little red vest.

"Oh my Hylia," you breathed, unable to comprehend the cuteness before you. You took a deep breath, plopped down on the ground, and squealed: "You are so cute!!"

The rabbit's ears twitched adorably as it turned to face you fully. You reached a hand out, moving torturously slow until your fingers brushed the sinfully soft fur at the top of its head. It was a full-on battle to keep your squee!!! of joy to a reasonable level for the sake of not scaring away the creature, but you somehow managed, lip trembling from the sheer amount of effort you were employing to contain yourself. "Where did you come from, handsome?" you cooed, because that vest was nothing short of dapper, fingers trailing to rub tenderly at the rabbit's soft ears. "It's a good thing I found you, Hylia forbid you run into Wolfie."

The rabbit hopped closer when you added the very tips of your nails to the scratching process, and your heart damn near melted at the sight. "I could just hug you right now," you scratched harder, earning yourself a small thump from one of the rabbit's hind legs. Your hand swept down to caress the bunny's back, and it was then that you noticed the brownish tone of the fur around his rump and legs.

"You're all dirty," you mumbled slowly, running your finger through the slightly clumped fur. It was a shame, really, because you couldn't recall ever seeing such an astounding creature.

Wait...

"That's it!" You cried, hands cupping under the rabbit's chest and butt before you hoisted it up against your chest. The creature squirmed, legs kicking gently against your ribcage, and you rubbed its back softly. "It's okay, sweetie, we're just going to take a bath together and get all clean, alright?"

The bunny wiggled more, but you held it steady, continuing down the path to the river.

Legend knew he was in deep shit.

He hadn't even meant to follow you, having stayed true to his goal of gathering berries for Wild... until he caught sight of your swaying form walking along the trees, and something deep inside his chest demanded he follow you. The woods could be dangerous, so it couldn't hurt to have an extra layer of protection, especially when you were in such a... vulnerable position, he convinced himself, allowing the transformation into a rabbit to wash over him like water.

With swift hops, he followed you through the undergrowth, carefully avoiding anything that would alert you of his presence. You didn't know about his ability, but the others did, and he'd rather not have to explain anything to anyone. Legend wasn't embarrassed to admit that his gaze lingered on the subtle curve of your ass through those leggings of yours for far longer than appropriate, mostly because he knew no one was around to hear it.

Rustle.

Legend cringed as his hind leg brushed the shrub he was hiding under, and full-blown terror engulfed him when your head snapped in the direction, hand already reaching for the dagger he gifted you a while back under the guise of protecting you. In truth, he really liked seeing you in the fruits of his labor, but since nothing between you was even remotely past friendly, he had to be sneakier than piling protection rings on your fingers like he wanted.

The ground crunched beneath your boots as you took a cautious step further, expression grin. Legend tried to scurry deeper into the thick leaves, praying that you hadn't seen him, and brushed the shrub again in his haste, sending a resonating rustle through his temporary residence.

"Who's there?" your voice, typically filled with mirth, called dangerously, and he knew he had to act fast. There was no way he could transform like this--then he would really be done for. "If you don't come out, I'm going to–"

As the bush rustled one final time, Legend made his choice. His hind legs, tucked under him like two loaded springs, pushed him forward faster than the wind. Your yelp resonated in his ears and you jumped to the side to avoid the undoubtedly pink blur shooting out from the shrub. He landed on the ground a few feet from your form, turning his head just in time to catch the moment your expression changed from shocked to disbelieving to absolutely awestruck.

"Oh my Hylia," you said, and he wanted nothing more than shoot away, but that was far too incriminating, especially since he was positive you would tell the others about your encounter with a fucking pink rabbit. "You are so cute!"

Cute...? You thought he was cute? Legend had to remind himself that you thought you were speaking to just an animal, because the notion that you were speaking those words to him was far too poignant to consider if he wanted to remain sane. Legend had always liked you, perhaps a bit more than he should have, which is why he remained still when your hand reached out slowly, obviously not wanting to scare him, and allowed the tips of your fingers to graze his head.

You cooed some more, and, this time, he was embarrassed to admit the very noticeable swell of heat in his chest. "Where did you come from, handsome?" Legend just knew you were looking at the vest, unable to find a rebuttal to that particular statement; it was pretty neat, he had to admit. "It's a good thing I found you, Hylia forbid you run into Wolfie."

Right. Twilight. Legend cringed at the mention of the hero who had gotten him into this mess in the first place, but his annoyance was quickly rectified when your fingers stroked down the length of his ears, sending tremors of... well, pleasure, sliding down his spine. Hylia, was he even supposed to be feeling this good? "I could just hug you right now," you stated, hand sweeping down to caress his back, and Legend was the first to notice when the adorable look in your eyes morphed into concern. Every nerve in his body bristled at the mere notion of upsetting you, you, and the urge to shift right then and there nearly consumed him. "You're all dirty..."

He was? Legend shot a glance at his backside, cringing when he noticed the massive splotch of mud right above his rump. It must have happened while he was under than bramble bush earlier, having been too preoccupied with watching over you to mind his own appearance.

Legend nearly yelped when your hands cupped his body, lifting him in the air before he could curse Hylia for putting him in such a predicament, all the while you crowed "That's it!" while moving him to rest directly on your chest. Directly. "It's okay, sweetie, we're just going to take a bath together and get all clean, alright?"

You... you were going to what? Legend could hardly think as his hind legs kicked gently against your ribcage in a last-ditch effort to free himself, but your grip held true, keeping him exactly where you wanted him. His paws rested on your collarbone, dully registering the warmth flowing from your skin, but he had far more pressing matters to worry about. For one, you were heading to take a bath, and he was positive one didn't bathe with their clothes on, which meant...

"Hey, it's okay," your hand smoothed down his back as he began to struggle anew. This wasn't what he had in mind when he decided to watch over you, and the wrongness of the situation twisted his soul like a wet rag. For Hylia's sake, he wasn't a pervert!

Yet you walked on, blissfully unaware of the complete and total turmoil raging within him. He was going to hell for this, Legend was sure, if the others' teasing didn't send him there first.

After a few minutes, you made a noise of satisfaction, stepping into the clearing, where a medium-sized river resided. The water looked gentle enough, but he was more preoccupied when you abruptly dropped your pack, kneeling down to set him on the soft grass. "You stay here, okay?" Your smile was softer than silk and brighter than the master sword... and Legend found himself unable to move; as if his small body had simply stopped working, even when your hands pulled your tunic from your body, revealing miles and miles of smooth skin for his perusal. If rabbits could blush, his face would have been redder than a strawberry.

Legend's heart nearly stopped beating as your hands deftly untied the cloth binding your breasts, sighing softly when they were released. Everything felt hot, too hot, when you slid your leggings and undergarments down in one fell swoop, kicking them to the side as you advanced on him with a grin sweeter than honey.

"Hey, bunny, ready to get clean?"

Fuck, was Legend's only thought as he was hauled against your chest once more, breathing deepening when the hard nub of your nipple poked his fluffy stomach. Your hands pulled off his vest, tossing it atop your pack.

You carried him to the shallows, where you sat down cross-legged in the sun-warmed water, gently placing him in the space between your glorious thighs. Legend's paws scrambled against the smooth skin of your thighs as he attempted to climb away, but your hand grabbed the scruff of his neck with an iron grip, tenderly pulling him back down, and he realized escape was no longer an option. "You're too pretty to get dirty," you mused softly, dousing his back with a cupped handful of water, working those nimble fingers into the tangled fur. It felt good–really good, if he was being honest–but that wasn't the point.

You were naked. He was naked. In a river. Alone.

It was a recipe for trouble, and Legend was afraid of what he would do if he turned, of what he would do to your prone, willing form. His hands ached to smooth over your skin, drawing countless whimpers from those pretty lips of yours, until you couldn't take it any longer, eventually dipping down to the treasure between your legs. He imagined bringing you to climax over and over again on his fingers alone, then, while you were most sensitive, bending down to sample that delectable cunt, only giving you his cock when you begged him with pleasured tears gathering in your fluttering lashline–

No! Legend surged forward and bumped his head on your calf. You made a noise of concern, hands immediately reaching to comfort him. "Oh, baby, did I scare you?"

Fuck yeah, you scared him, not with how big or strong you were (though you were unadulteratingly both), but of the sheer amount of power you held over him. You could ask him to jump, and after sneering at you for a few minutes (he had a reputation to protect, after all), all he could ask was 'how high'? You could take anything you wanted from his collection, and he would let you–though not without some grumbles to save face–and your smile could literally bring him to his knees.

Legend was completely head-over-heels for you... and it scared him, the man who thought he would never love again after Koholint. He had fallen for your smile, your kindness, even the way you hummed to yourself when you thought no one was listening. He wanted to wake up to your sleepy kisses in the morning and fall asleep to your gentle breaths in the evening.

There was so much he wanted to do with you... and it felt as though this one moment was bringing everything he had ever planned crashing down. He had it all planned out: a sunset picnic of his and your favorite foods, nestled far away from the prying eyes of the others, so he could finally kiss you if you allowed him to.

But now... now it was ruined. He had ruined it by being so goddamn nosey, and the mere thought of you discovering his secret sent uncomfortable shivers down his spine. At least he could enjoy the feeling of your nails scraping all the grime from his fur, Legend thought glumly, resigning himself to his fate--

"Fuck!"

The word slipped from him like a knife through butter when your nail graced his lower rump, and Legend could have died right there, having completely forgotten he was still capable of speech in this form. Your motions immediately halted, and he could feel your eyes burning into his back... until you lifted him by the scruff and they burned into his enflamed face instead.

Your voice was low, with an undercurrent of complete disbelief, as you brought him closer.

"Did you just speak?"

Legend's soul withered.

You were completely and utter lost for words when a sudden expletive cut through the still air, coming directly from the pink rabbit in your very bare, very naked lap. You felt as though you had finally gone mad when you lifted the creature by its scruff, eyes practically staring holes through its poor chest.

Not that you were particularly concerned with fictional harm, because you knew you had good hearing and were positive that the muffled "fuck" you heard wasn't a figment of your imagination. The voice was too deep, too... unfamiliar to be your own, yet there was something about the tone that had you wondering if you had heard it before.

"Did you just speak?" You whispered, expression completely serious, and the rabbit seemed to shrink under your gaze... as if it understood you in a fundamentally different way. For an animal, at least.

Silence.

"I said," your hand began to tremble from holding the bunny up for so long, so you set him in your lap, never once breaking eye contact. To your surprise, the creature seemed to shrink even more, practically cowering against the inside of your crossed legs. "Did you just speak?"

Still nothing, so you let out a heavy sigh and stood up, casting a shadow over the trembling rabbit. Okay, now you felt a bit bad; you were confused--and frankly a bit terrified--but that didn't give you any right to be a jerk about it. Forcing your expression to shift into something vaguely neutral, you turned on your heel, walking towards your discarded clothes. You hadn't gotten that wet, so it would be easier to dress, but the thought of your ruined bath was a painful one. Hylia, what did you have to do around here to get five minutes of normality?

There was a splashing sound, followed by a soft grunt, and a very Hylian-shaped hand wrapped around your wrist. You shrieked, spinning around to face none other than a buck-naked Legend.

"Legend?" Was the first word to leave your slack-jawed mouth, followed by a very appropriate: "what the fuck?!" when you noticed his nakedness.

Legend's face was flushed beyond belief--fuck, he was red down to the shoulders--and he held his hands out defensively, tone weak and stuttering, all traces of his usual sarcasm gone. "I'm so sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were safe, but you started undressing and I–"

"Slow down," you commanded, surprising even yourself. "Why were you spying on me?"

"I wasn't spying–!" You glared at him and he immediately backed off. "I mean– it's dangerous in the forest and..."

"...And?" You prompted, beginning to blush yourself as you became more aware of your lack of clothes. Dear Hylia, he had seen everything!

"I wanted to protect you!" Legend blurted, his sincerity palpable, but it did nothing to quell your annoyance.

"Then why didn't you, I don't know–" you pinched your temples. "–tell me first?!"

"You would have told me no!" Legend said, expression falling when the wrongness of that particular sentence caught up to him. "Hylia, kill me now," he groaned.

You folded your arms under your chest; he had seen everything already, so why bother hiding it? "Then who would protect me?" you asked in a snarky tone of voice. "Make up your mind, Legend."

"I–... what?"

"Do you want to protect me or not?" You could hardly believe you were saying this, but the words just kept coming. You took a step forward, and he stiffened. "Or are you really just a peeping tom?"

It was almost satisfying how quickly he bristled. Almost. "I'm no such thing–"

"Then prove it," you said as you brushed past him, heading for the water. You'd be damned if you let him ruin your bath time, no matter how annoyingly hot he was.

You didn't bother waiting for a response, entering the water with a soft sigh. It was blissfully cool against your blazing skin, and the first thing you did was submerge your entire body with a loud splash, stretching your arms out to let the water wash over every part of you–

Until there was another splash and you were manhandled out of the water by your shoulders. You yelped in outrage as Legend hoisted you up, muscles flexing deliciously as he held you firmly. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" you screeched at him, annoyed beyond belief.

"Protecting you," his expression was a mix of stony determination and, well, you didn't want to even think about the other emotion you saw shining in his violet eyes. "Or does that make me a peeping tom too?"

That little shit!

"Let me go," you ordered lowly, and he did so, making sure you were balanced before releasing you fully, the water reaching just under your breasts. "Hylia, you are a piece of work."

Legend blinked, the remnants of his earlier blush still clinging to his sharp cheeks, and you refused to acknowledge how you knew they were sharp in the first place. "I am?"

You crossed your arms beneath your chest once more, pushing your boobs up, and his gaze fucking snapped down to ogle you for a split second before returning to your face.

"Did you just check me out?" you gasped, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

Legend's cheeks pinked some more, but he made no move to affirm or deny your accusation, choosing to wade back to the shallows, staring guard with his back to you, revealing a delicious ass for your perusal. You had no qualms staring after the stunt he had just pulled, and, Hylia, was it a fine ass. You doubted you had ever seen anyone with that much cake, no matter how lewd it was to acknowledge such an observation.

'You're staring," Legend's voice broke through the fog, and you snorted.

"Says the peeping tom."

Abruptly, Legend turned. Apprehension filled you as he stalked through the water, but you held firm, going so far as to meet him in the middle, the water pooling just above your belly button. "I'm trying to bathe, hero."

"And I'm trying to protect you, citizen."

...Well, he had you there. Unfortunately for him, you refused to acknowledge it after the madness he had just pulled. "With what weapons? Or are you going to use bunny kicks to fight off the fish?"

Legend's eye twitched, expression darkening, but you didn't care. "Maybe I'd be able to do my job better if you weren't so intent on distracting me," he ground out, and it had you feeling all sorts of ways.

"Oh yeah?" you reached over to poke him in the chest. "I thought you'd be over it after, I don't know, peeping on me."

"That's not true and you know it," his tone sounded exactly how you felt; irritated out of your mind. Good.

He was getting closer... and you found yourself too annoyed to care. "Fuck you, Legend; I don't need your protection more than you need a reality check."

For a moment, he was silent, simply studying you with those mesmerizing eyes of his, and you felt fully prepared for anything he could throw your way.

"You're right."

...Except for that, apparently.

"Excuse me?" You blurted.

"You heard me," Legend mirrored your pose, crossing his arms across his... incredibly toned chest. "It's already hard enough protecting you from monsters, so adding myself to mix definitely complicates things."

Your brain dam-near short-circuited. Did he just...?

"You look surprised," Legend observed with what you could only describe as the most self-satisfied smirk that surpassed anything you'd seen in your life. "What, remlit got your tongue?"

Hylia, when had he gotten so close? You could practically feel his breath fanning over your chilled skin. "You're..." you trailed off, taking a step backward in an attempt to put some space between the two of you, but Legend's smirk only grew as he followed you. "You're insane."

"Maybe," he said, and you were finally forced to acknowledge the second emotion in his eye: lust. You couldn't say you were surprised, considering the current situation, but it was still jarring to see him so... arrogantly confident instead of his usual snarkily confident. "But you don't seem to have any complaints."

Was... was this really happening? Steeling your nerves, you reached to poke his chest again, snarling "you're delusional", but he caught your wrist in a surprisingly firm grip.

"So are you," he was even closer now, practically pressed against your chest. You could feel something hard nudge the inner edge of your thigh, and it took everything in you not to reach down and find out what it was for yourself.

"The fuck are you on about?" you said, internally cringing at the shakiness of your tone.

The twinkling in his eyes was nothing short of evil. "You really don't think I'm the only one enjoying this, do you?"

Your eye twitched, and you harshly yanked your wrist free, replanting it on his chest as a sort of barrier. "What are you on about now, asshole–"

You were cut off when Legend leaned forward, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Your head jerked back, just as his arms began to slide around your back, lightly pinning you in place. "What in Hylia's gotten into you–"

"You," Legend cut you off, staring deep into your eyes with that dumb smirk on his face. "You've gotten into me."

It was official; he had finally gone nuts. "Have you gone crazy!?"

"Only for you," he responded, glancing down with a chuckle. You became distinctly aware the heady press of your boobs against his chest and used your free hand to smack him upside the head.

"You pervert!"

He raised a perfect eyebrow and you nearly combusted. "What does that make you, then?"

Fuck this, you had enough of his bullshit. Planting your hands on his chest, you gave a hearty shove, successfully dislodging his arms from you. "That's fucking it," you snarled, moving to the shore. "I hope you're happy, you little shit."

"(Y/n)," the use of your name stopped you in your tracks. With an annoyed expression, you spun around.

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

...Huh?

In all the months you'd known Legend, never before had you heard a sincere apology fall from his lips. It was enough to make your irritation ebb like the water you stood in, especially at the regretful look on his face.

"It's... it's fine," you ran a hand down your face with a sigh. "I just... we're always traveling and there's no time to relax. Ever. I get being alert and all, but it's been so crazy and I–"

"I understand," Legend cut you off, wading into the water until he was all but two feet from you. "It's hard to remember you're not on the same level as us... you hide it well."

Was... that a compliment? From Legend?

"I..." he seemed to hesitate, averting his eyes, and you waited patiently for whatever revelation he was about to bestow upon you. "I like you. A lot."

"Oh," you were helpless to stop the small smile forming on your face. "I like you, too, Legend."

"Don't play coy with me," he growled, stalking closer until only an inch of air separated your bare skin. Violet eyes burned holes in your own. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

"Not a clue, so how about you tell me," you shot back.

There was a beat of silence. Legend's brows furrowed for a split second before his expression turned to nothing short of devious.

"I could show you."

You gulped at the look in his eyes; it was dangerous, so very dangerous, but you found yourself not giving a single fuck as you closed the gap between you, snarling three simple words right into his smug little face. "I dare you."

Legend was on you in a flash, arms wrapping around your body to pull you flush against his soaked form as he kissed you with such fervor that you nearly saw stars. His tongue prodded gently at your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth to allow him access with a shaky sigh. You shivered when his tongue slid into your mouth, running over every surface you had to offer, and you moaned lowly at the taste of him; warm and somewhat spicy, like cinnamon with the tiniest twinge of Goron Spice.

It was intoxicating, and you were determined to return the favor. Legend groaned when you wrapped your arms around your neck, arching your back so your chest pressed firmly against his own, all the while slipping your own tongue into his mouth, mimicking his previous actions with rare gusto.

Legend's hands slid down to your hips, though he didn't dare go further, gripping your flesh with purpose when you separated, panting for breath.

"Well?" his voice was far breathier than before, and you resisted the urge to chuckle.

"I think I need a... longer demonstration," you responded slowly, making sure to bat your eyelashes at him. Legend's cheeks flushed a deeper read than a health potion, and you knew you had him hook, line, and sinker. "Unless...?"

"Oh no," he dipped forward to plant a kiss on the side of your neck, and you shivered, thighs clenching together. "No takebacks, (Y/n)."

"G-Good," you said as he peppered the skin of your neck with more open-mouthed kisses, sucking lightly enough to be felt, but not enough to leave marks, no matter how desperately he wanted to brand you as his.

You barely held back a whimper when Legend's tongue slowly glided over your pulse point, eyes trained on your face to watch your reactions. You bit your lip when he lightly grazed the spot with his teeth, a small whine escaping your pursed lips, and he perked up, repeating the action until you relented; a broken moan filling the air between you.

Something hard prodded your thigh, and you just knew it was his cock. Your hand drifted down to wrap gently around his length, slowly stroking him from base to tip beneath the water, and Legend's motions faltered as a groan tore itself from his throat. "(Y/n)..."

You smirked, tightening your hand ever-so-slightly. "Feels good, hero?"

"Keep going," he mumbled into your neck, and you obliged, unoccupied hand tangling in his hair as you pumped his cock faster. "Please, (Y/n)–"

That was new. You hadn't expected him to beg, and you certainly hadn't expected yourself to like it, but here you were. His hands dug harder into the flesh of your hips, likely enough to bruise, but you couldn't care less; it wasn't like anyone but you and him were going to see them.

"Look at me," the words surprised even you, but he snapped his gaze to you and it all became worth it. The sigh alone was enough to make the building anticipation in your gut roll desperately, core clenching around nothing. In true you fashion, you rewarded him with a swift squeeze of your fist, drawing a loud groan from his lips. "That's it, hero."

"Nngh..." Legend's eyes fluttered closed and he buried his face in your neck, breaths turning ragged as you increased the pace. His hips began to rock against your hand, and you let it happen, holding him as best you could. It was a sight to behold--the typically sassy veteran practically reduced to putty beneath your fingers.

"Are you close?" you whispered in his ear, gently taking the outer edge in your teeth.

"Y-Yeah," he said, as if you didn't already know.

"Good," you pumped harder, and he made a noise of surprise.

"W-Wait–... you haven't–"

You cut him off with a single heavy swipe over the head of his cock. Legend shuddered, grasping at you tightly, and you nipped the earlobe in your mouth. "It's fine, you can pay me back later."

"But–"

"Just let go, hero," you tilted his head up by his hair and kissed him like you would die if you didn't, only separating to whisper: "I've got you."

Legend came with a shout, cock throbbing harshly as you stroked him through his orgasm. The water felt sticky as his cum joined the flowing stream, but you didn't mind, especially not when he all but collapsed against you, just barely catching himself as to not topple the two of you.

"Hylia, I love you," he breathed, and you giggled, planting a kiss on his temple.

"I love you too."

Two glimmering violet eyes snapped to you, wide as saucers. "You.."

"–love you, too," you finished, wrapping an arm around his waist to guide him to shore. Legend collapsed on the grassy bank as soon as he reached it, and you settled beside him with a sigh. "How do you feel?"

"Like I just had the best orgasm of my life," he snarked, and you chuckled, turning on your side to sling an arm over his heaving chest, breasts pressed firmly to his left arm. "You do know it's your turn, right?"

You faked a yawn, nuzzling your boobs against his arm. "I dunno, there's no shame in being tired, hero."

There was silence, long enough that you truly thought he had tapped out, which was fine by you. You could have your fun later, hidden in a grove of trees like you usually did when those urges arose.

"...Is that a challenge?"

Or not.

You turned your head to find him staring at you with a mix of mischief and desire, twinkling darkly in those eyes of his. You shifted slightly as your pussy throbbed with need.

"Do you want it to be?"

Legend rolled atop you, drawing a surprised gasp from your throat. His cock, already half hard, rested against your thigh, a thick bead of pre sliding down the flushed tip. "Anything you say is a challenge," he leaned down to capture your lips once more, Your mouth had long since opened, allowing him to have his way with you, until his hips jerked suddenly, forcing the head of his cock to settle at the apex of your thighs.

"Nghh...."

"What was that?" Legend asked teasingly, grabbing your chin when you refused to respond. "Tell me what you want, (Y/n)."

"I want--" the words caught in your throat when he slid his cock up to bump your clit, spreading his pre over the aching bundle of nerves. "I want you, Legend!"

"Mhm," you could see his grin without having to open your eyes, another languid thrust of his hips parting the soaked lips of your cunt. "And what about me do you want?"

You gritted your teeth and glared up at him. "I want your cock, so shut up and give it to me."

A startled laugh left Legend at your admission, clearly having expected you to put up more of a fight. You growled, pushing at his chest, but he deftly captured your wrists, pinning them above your head. "No need to get violent, I'll give you what you want."

"Oh, I'll show you violent–" you were cut off when he slammed into you with a grunt, bottoming out in one fluid motion. Your back arched off the ground as you cried out, cunt fluttering around his length. Legend, however, gave you no time to adjust, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming into you again, starting a pace that had you seeing stars after only a few world-shattering thrusts.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles crossing, as you struggled to meet him thrust for thrust, but Legend was having none of it, leaning down to lave his tongue up the quivering column of your neck, rendering you helpless to do anything but take what he gave you.

"L-Legend!"

"That's it," he groaned, releasing your hands to grab your hips. Your arms immediately flew up to wrap around his neck, pulling you chest-to-chest as every slam of his hips against your own had you screaming: "F-Faster, please–!"

"Don't have to tell me twice," he huffed into your neck, and your back nearly broke from the force of his next thrust. The coil in your abdomen grew tighter and tighter as he fucked you like a man starved, releasing your hips to fondle your breast. You moaned when Legend took a bouncing nipple in his mouth, carefully grazing his teeth against the pebbled nub, and screamed when he moved his free hand between you to rub enticing circles on your clit. "Are you close?"

"YeAH," you cried out at the onslaught of pleasure, writhing like a fish caught in a net. The hand on your breasts moved to press against your hips, holding them still while he pistoned inside you. "P-Please, Legend!"

"It's okay," he murmured, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to the corners of your mouth. "Cum for me, (Y/n)."

And, as if his words weren't enough, his clever fingers pressed down on the center of your clit, sending bolts of electricity shocking through you as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami. Your body spasmed under him, head thrown back while chased his own high, pounding desperately into your cunt like he would never get the chance again, only for him to absolutely slam home as scalding cum filled you.

With a heavy sigh of exertion, Legend slumped over you, head resting between your breasts as he panted for breath, arms wrapping tightly around your spent form.

"That was amazing," you breathed, allowing yourself to relax against the soft grass. One of your hands came up to card gently through his hair. "I love you."

"Love ya too," Legend mumbled into your boobs, and you laughed as his breath fanned over the sensitive flesh.

"You know," you grinned when he squinted suspiciously up at you. "You're a pretty good protector."

"...Are you trying to get me hard again?"

You snorted. "Hell no, but you know what there is time for?"

Legend raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"A bath."

You both laughed.

Hot damn, this was fun to write, hope y'all enjoyed!

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part nine

summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is the teaaaa guys,, also should i post the playlist tn?? i feel like its almost ready 0.0

series masterlist // playlist

"You should go home. You can't save her by just hoping she comes out of her little tunnels again..." Coryo turns his head at the Dean's voice on his left. "She could be dead in there. You wouldn't know."

Your friend sighs, rolling his eyes and redirecting them to the screen ahead. Just in case.

"What are you reading?" He points to the open book on Coryo's desk in front of him as the boy quickly closes it, pulling it down onto his lap.

"Just a book." He mumbles.

The Dean gets closer, leaning over to read the cover as Coryo flips it over. "Just a book?" He probes it more, raising an eyebrow at him. "The very same one your poet was reading in all the live feeds of the zoo over the last few days. That's sweet."

"It's interesting. That's all. She asked for it, I wanted to know why." Coryo brushes it off, holding the paper tighter in his grip.

"What do you want from that girl?" He asks, leaning against the empty desk next to him.

"Nothing." Coryo insists. "I want her to live."

Dean Highbottom hums, giving a slight nod. "And the Plinth Prize would be a happy coincidence, I suppose."

Coriolanus smiles bitterly, thinking over what his best response would be. "I believe I'd be entitled to it."

"Of course you do." The Dean nods, flashing him a fake smile of encouragement. "Of course you do. The prize, the girl. Hm. How convenient you don't have to choose between them."

Coryo tucks the book under his leg at the statement, choosing not to grace his superior with any kind of response.

"Who do you think makes that final decision for the prize you so covet, Mister Snow? Wake up. Even if she somehow wins it all, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you don't see a dime." Dean Highbottom spits, looking up at the screen as well as Coryo slowly looks over at him. "So, ask yourself, how much do you care if she wins now?"

Coryo listens to the man's footsteps as he walks away, pretending to focus on the screen again. If he truly had no shot at the prize, would it be best for him to go home now and sleep like many of his classmates already had? Should he even bother to watch the cameras hoping that you'll reappear in the dark arena at some point tonight? Should he even come back? Of course he would. He couldn't live with the idea of you coming out, in desperate need of something only he could give you, food or water, and knowing that at some point you would realize he had lied to you. That he wasn't with you anymore. He would have to watch your heartbreak in holiday reruns for the rest of his life. Even if you died in that arena all alone, would you realize that he didn't care about you at the end? He couldn't take the idea of it.

As he returns to the book that he's pulled back onto his lap, he hopes you still remember.

It's another slow hour before you show your face again, slowly, carefully opening the vent across the arena as the motion cameras pick up on it, allowing Coryo to watch the closest one to you. It's a moment before he looks up, entranced in your book when he sees the movement in his peripheral vision. He was the only one there, now, and he knew it likely wasn't you that the cameras picked up so it took him a moment to even tear his eyes away from the desk, slotting the dried-up flower between the pages. When he does see it's you, he sits up quickly. Watching, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it didn't come, there was no one else. It's just you.

Your eyes scan the arena in search of the nearest camera after seeing that there are no other tributes out in the clearing besides Lamina, where you left her on the beam. You crawl out, leaving the vent open behind you for a quick retreat. You find the camera, looking into it. You were covered in dirt head to toe, but even through that Coryo could see it when you tried to communicate with your gaze. With him.

You give a small wave to the camera, eyes flitting up with the sound of birds in the crumbled rafters above you.

He wasn't sure what you wanted, but he was grateful you listened. Tapping through his communicuff, he quickly finds water and hits send. Hopefully, it makes it to you instead of breaking like Lamina's did.

You stand up in front of the vent, stretching out your limbs from being curled up and crawling around in the vent system for so long. You wanted to explore as much of it as you could, but it was hot in there, and you desperately needed water so you could clear out the dust in your throat.

A smile falls onto your face briefly as you see the drone come in, carrying your water bottle. Coryo. He is watching. You hold your hand out, prepared to try and catch it before it crashes loudly into the stands just behind you. From watching what happened with Lamina's, you know you have to be careful. The blades aren't well covered, and they come flying in fast. Straight toward you. When it gets too close you bail, ducking down as the fast-moving drone flies straight past you and into the vent. You cringe at the loud banging that follows, echoing throughout the arena due to your beloved vent system. You stay hidden for a moment, making sure no one is coming after you before standing up and looking around. Satisfied that no one was coming besides Lamina who just stirred on her beam, you held your finger up toward the camera, signaling for Coryo to wait as you crawled back in.

He chews on the inside of his cheek as he waits, relieved when you emerge a minute or so later with an unbroken bottle in your hand as you kneel on the ground in front of the opening. You hold it up, shooting the camera a small smile before opening it and taking a sip. Or, you intended to, but you were so thirsty you downed almost the whole thing in one go.

You wipe your chin, take a deep breath, and close your eyes. It felt so good. Coryo is watching you intently. You don't look cold, which is good. Maybe even a little sweaty, if the hair that's clinging to your forehead is proof of that. You're probably hungry. And with that, he's sending you an apple. If you weren't hungry, it wasn't a lot to eat, but if you were, he would be able to tell by how you ate it.

You hear the distant whir of another drone, quickly standing up and stepping away from the vent. You want to avoid that loud echoing as much as you can. You brace yourself and duck beneath the seat in front of you, hiding behind the railing so it wouldn't hit you.

It crashes into the front of the stands, and you can hear it falling down onto the floor. You stand up slowly, looking over the edge. You were so hungry, now that you saw the apple there, that you hopped down over the side and walked along the edge of the railing before sliding down where it was safest. You watch your steps as you make your way over to the broken drone and the battered apple that was attached to it.

You scan the ground, looking for that delicious flash of red which you pick out quickly. You pick it up and wipe it off on your dress, taking a bite before you're even fully stood up again. You could moan just at the taste of it. You had missed fruit so much- occasionally Coryo and Sejanus had brought you some in the zoo, but now it was something else entirely. Every bite could be your last, and you try to enjoy it as best you can.

You track the arena again from the floor, looking around again for the nearest camera. You turn when you see it's pretty much directly above your head. You wave again, giving Coryo a grateful smile, weakened by the stress of the day's events, and by your inevitable death. Nevertheless, you tried to keep on a brave face; you didn't want him to view you as careless or ungrateful. "Thank you." You say, unsure if there is even a microphone.

You tilt your head at the camera, confusing him as you squint. "Can you hear me?" You ask and he nods, alone in the large room.

"I can hear you." He whispers back to the open air, watching as you swiftly turn around, facing away from the camera.

"If you can hear me, send..." You think about it. What is something they would definitely have available but obscure enough that you would know he heard you? "Send in something odd. Something you're surprised is even an option."

He flicks through the pages and pages of options, unsure what to pick. Bread was too basic, no apples, water, no. Milk? That's weird, and gross. It's perfect. He hits send and watches as you eat your apple, looking up at the opening at the top waiting for something else to come.

You smile as you see it coming in, looking back at the camera briefly before bracing yourself to dodge the flying gift. You wait until the last second, jumping out of the way as it smashes into the wall behind you, the bottle shattering and spraying the surface in milk. Coryo cringes just at the sight of it as you turn and look.

You scrunch up your nose and get closer, running your finger through the dripping liquid to try and identify it. "Milk?" You ask, looking up at the camera.

He smiles to match yours as it grows on your face and you start to laugh quietly. "That is odd, indeed." You giggle, shaking your head. "Well, thank you, dear Coryo. At least I shall have someone to talk to." You take another bite out of the apple in your hand.

"I hope you had a good day." You hum, covering your mouth as you chew. "But you should be getting home soon. I think it is late."

It's so you to be so caring, even finding yourself within the games you're still worried about him. He smiles to himself, shaking his head. He continues to click through the communicuff in the silence that follows, just to get a better idea of all your options, when he finds something better.

Finally, the keyboard makes sense. He quickly types the note out to you and hits send. It's pricey to send a note, putting a dent in your donations, but you had so many it wasn't really a concern at this point. After all, he was your mentor. It only made sense that he would kind of be able to communicate with you.

You perk your head up at the sound of another drone, ready to play this game again. You dodge it more smoothly this time, with a spin that puts a smile on your mentor's face before picking up the small container clipped on the bottom of the drone and prying it open.

You smile when you see it's just a piece of paper. "I'm not leaving. -C"  You read, looking up at the camera.

"Well then," You grin. "Let's talk! It is not day."

He remembers that one. You've said that one to him before- you said it was Romeo and Juliet. He's actually sure he just read it. If the book belonged to him, he would be highlighting and annotating every line you have recited to him over the last couple weeks just like he does in his textbooks.

"That's Romeo and Juliet, if you remember." You remind him, assuming that he wouldn't know it yet. Even if he had started reading it, which he shouldn't have considering you know he's been busy, it was unlikely he'd get that far in under a day. You didn't know that he was inhaling every word on the page in the moments you were off-screen, devouring every blank verse as if it were sacred. To you, and now to him, it almost was. 

You look around as you chew on your apple, stopping when you look at Marcus again. You sigh, sadly, seeing the birds now crowding his body as you quickly begin to make your way over. Lamina sits up as you approach, looking over the edge of the beam. "Just me." You whisper, reassuring her before you shoo the birds away as she lays back down.

You crouch down next to the boy, gently rolling him onto his back. You hadn't the chance earlier, too rushed by the daylight to get back into hiding, but now was as good a time as any. You gently cross his arms over his chest and close his eyes.

You sit back, carefully adjusting his clothes before getting up, as satisfied as you could be with the makeshift burial.

You take a few steps back, retreating quietly to the edge of the arena to get back to your vent. You climb up into the stands just as you hear another drone coming, quickly climbing the stairs so it doesn't fall back down into the ring. You grab it when it's settled, smiling to yourself when you see it's another note.

"No cameras in the vents. Only come out if you need anything. -C"

"Thank you, Coryo." You whisper, looking up at the camera and nodding before retreating inside, closing the fan quietly behind you.

You curl up just past the entrance to the vent, hoping to get some sleep near the fresh air. The exhaustion kicks in quickly after you eat the entire core of the apple, knocking you out in the darkness of the tunnel.

When you wake, it's still dark. You sit up quickly, realizing where you are. Rubbing your eyes, you look out of the vent to see the source of the sound that woke you. You quickly spot a figure kneeling over Marcus's body, blinking to try and see who it is through the sleep still in your eyes.

You should stay hidden, you know that, but from behind at least, it doesn't look like another tribute.

"Sejanus?" You whisper, the vast space carrying your voice to his ears and he quickly turns. You were lucky it was him, but you were able to make a quick escape if it turned out to be someone else. "Sejanus, it's just me." You continue, and as you ease yourself down the debris piled up against the wall he just turns back to Marcus.

You take careful, nearly silent steps as you walk up behind him. "Sejanus?" You say again, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He shakes his head slightly, looking up at you. Tears filled his eyes and stained his cheeks, and you very quickly felt the tears building up in your own eyes as well. "Oh..." You quickly kneel down next to him, pulling him into a hug which he gratefully accepts. "Oh, Sejanus I'm so sorry... I wanted to save him, I did..." You choke on every word as you apologize.

"It's not fair." He sniffs, shaking his head gently under your grip as you soothingly rub the back of his head.

"I know... He didn't deserve that." You agree, ignoring the tears dripping down to your jaw and tickling your skin. "But I want you to know I told him how loved he is, and how sorry we all are. He knew. In his final moments, he knew..."

He tenses under your hold. "It... it was you?" He mutters, pulling away.

"No! No, I-" You quickly defend yourself, head shaking as your arms drop from around him and he looks over at you, understated anger beginning to shine through. "Sejanus, I didn't..."

Any trust he had in you was seemingly gone at that moment. You were worried you flipped a switch you couldn't unturn, that any relationship you had built with the boy had died and been replaced with the thought that maybe you were no better than the game makers themselves. Marcus was defenseless, and it felt like Sejanus thought you took advantage of that.

Your thought process proved to be correct. "He was defenseless! Innocent!" You could tell he would shout if you weren't both so worried about staying quiet. His anger quickly reverted back to hurt. "How could you?"

"I promise, it's not what it sounds like-" You try to correct him, to get him to forgive you as your chest constricts around your lungs. One of the two friends you made in your final days; gone. Just like that.

"Hey!" Another voice startles the both of you, already just a few feet away. You didn't realize how vulnerable you were while you were fighting to prove yourself. You scramble to get up, standing just in front of Sejanus as he knelt on the ground, making no attempts to move. "Y/N. Get out of here." Coryo instructs you, still in his academy uniform.

"Coryo, I-"

"Go hide. Now. It's not safe for you out here." He insists, eyes cold and serious.

"No, not until-"

"I said go. I can't be talking to you, we'll both be punished. Go."

God, he wanted to talk to you. He wanted to do more than talk to you. He wanted to hug you for the first time unimpeded, to grab your hand and pull you outside to where you would be safe, but he knew that neither was an option. You're safer in the vent than you would be in the hands of Dr. Gaul after he was seen talking to you, that's for sure.

He has to bite his tongue to keep from asking you to stay while you scurry off to do as he said and climb back into the vent, his mother's scarf still tied securely around your waist. He hated that this could possibly be the last time you saw him, but he had no choice.

"Sejanus, let's go." He whispers to his friend, once he is satisfied that you are really going.

"She killed him..." He mumbles in response.

"She didn't kill him." Coryo quickly corrects him.

"She said-"

"He begged for their help, and she held his hand while she," He points up the beam where a now sleeping Lamina lay quietly, "did it. Now let's get out of here."

He urges him on and Sejanus looks up at him. "He asked them to." Coryo hisses to iterate his point. "Y/N couldn't do it even then."

Sejanus looks up to the vent just as the door creaks closed behind you. "I just wanted to help..." He says softly, eyes watering.

"If you want to help, the best thing you can do is come with me."

"No, I had to be where the cameras are, I need to show them-"

"Do you think anyone is watching this?" Coryo asks as his friend finally stands up. He was making progress, but slowly. This needed to move faster. "Gaul cut the feed. Come with me now, or-"

"But you said-"

"You can't help them if you die in here and become another body in Gaul's war." Coryo cuts him off. There was very little time for arguments, and that timer was rapidly ticking down. "Go home, spend your father's money, do some real good. And don't blame her. She's just as innocent as Marcus was and you know that. Who do you think shut his eyes? Posed him like that? She sobbed for an entire hour after holding his hand while he died!"

Sejanus is speechless, staring down at his tribute's body.

"I watched it all! She's alone in here. She has no one!" He whispers in his ear. "We are all she has. Me and you on the outside, and if you want to help that girl and all the tributes after her, we have to go right now or neither of us will see the light of day again and she will starve and die truly alone. Please, Sejanus. You're her friend... My friend. Come with me."

Sejanus looks at him, the two boys just inches apart as he nods with a resigning sigh. "Okay." He whispers.

Coryo sighs in relief. "Thank you, come-" He starts to turn back when they both are scared by the sound of footsteps sprinting toward them. "Come on!" He shouts, grabbing his classmate's sleeve and dragging him behind as they make for the red lighting of the exit.

You watch from the slits in the fan, hands perched on the blade as you lean against it to get a better view. Your heart is racing as you watch Coryo and Sejanus book it for the exit. God, you hope they make it.

They almost do.

Until Sejanus trips over the turnstile you know and hate, crying out in pain upon hitting the ground. Immediately, you're pushing the door open loudly and running along the railing, hoping to get closer to the exit without running the risk of cutting through the middle of the arena. "Coryo! Run!" You yell helplessly, careless of whether or not you'll be heard or seen by others. All you wanted was to create a distraction. To save him.

But he doesn't run, even as you see him stumble back in the red lighting of the tunnel, hissing when Bobbin's blade strikes him somewhere. "Coryo!" You cry out again, more out of fear. Was it serious? Was he already in the process of bleeding out?

You quickly hop the railing abandoning your safety, sliding down the concrete and stumbling upon hitting the ground. "I don't want to hurt you!" You hear his voice again as you run into full view of the tunnel, still about twenty feet away.

Just in time to see Bobbin fall back between the metal gate, landing a good ways away.

"Enjoy the show!"

You flinch when your friend steps out after him, chest rising and falling heavily as he stares down at the boy's body. Silent, unmoving, dead.

Then he brings the club down on him again.

[inotakumagf]

persephone’s descent

✶ gojo satoru x persephone!reader

word count ✺ 2.7K

summary ✺ no one knows what truly happened to persephone when hades dragged her down to his realm. no one’s even heard of the demigod who made the tedious journey to save her.

warning ✺ i don’t haaate the story of hades and persephone i just hate how modern interpretations of the myth make demeter out to be a crazy woman who is “ruining” their love & hades is somehow the nicest guy who has done no wrong ever when the homeric hymn to demeter makes my heart break. i like different retellings where it is more of a love story, but in the og myth he did kidnap her & force her to stay with him against her will. im gonna shut up now otherwise i’d go on and on if i had my way lol. also like i mentioned in the poll zeus is very much NOT your father in this 👍 i hope you enjoy, please reblog/comment i’d love to hear ur thoughts!

No one ever cares about your side of the story.

The tale of Persephone and Hades has been retold and romanticized a thousand times over, and each time it strays farther and farther from the truth. It becomes a love story about Hades’ adoration of Persephone, and their fight against her crazy mother’s attempts at keeping the two star-crossed lovers apart. Persephone becomes a doting wife and the millitant queen of the Underworld. Her kidnapping turns into a misunderstanding of the love Hades has for her. Or worse, some myth retellings claim that Persephone herself tricked Hades into taking her down below to his realm.

That’s not what happened. As if you’d ever go anywhere with him willingly. 

You’d never invited Naoya’s attention, not once. He wasn’t even supposed to make his ascension to the mortal realm. But he’d seen you bathing in moonlight from beneath his helm of darkness, watching as you flourish a field of irises. He’d been so taken by your beauty, eyes dragging along where moonshine reflected off of your skin. He decided then that he had to have you, and he dragged you down, down, down to his decaying realm. Away from your home, away from your mother, and away from all that you hold dear. 

Demeter had sensed the loss of your presence the moment you disappeared down into the cavernous Underworld. It felt like your life had slipped away from her that day. You find out later that she had punished the Earth for your loss, as she caused crops to wither and vegetation to rot with each passing day. 

You know she would have come for you herself if she could, but Zeus has long since forbidden the major Gods from acting directly against one another. Of course, being kidnapped by an Olympian God is not enough reason for him to intervene on your behalf, since you’re no major God yourself. 

In your immortal life, it’s impossible to remember how much time goes by in mortal standards, and it’s even harder to keep track in the Underworld. You spend most of your hours, days, maybe even years trapped in your cave of a room. You spend every second clawing and screaming against the rock walls, making sure Naoya has not a moment of peace from you.

He is easy to anger, and you’ve caused a nasty frown to grace his face anytime he looks at you. Still, he decides that he must show off his prize to his loyal court, because how many people can say they’ve captured the Goddess of nature? He has you sit on a smaller throne beside his own as he entertains members of his court. And of course, he is always offering you food. Everything from juicy pomegranate seeds to jeweled berries to plump poultry. 

Naoya must think you’re an idiot, as if you don’t know the one rule a visitor must remember when passing through the Underworld. Even to a God, the food will hold a piece of your soul hostage, as if tying you to the ground below. As a God, you don’t need food to survive, so all his obvious attempts are shot down. But you do need ambrosia and nectar from time to time, and you refuse to let him see how the deprivation of Godly food is getting to you.

You’re nursing a growing headache thanks to Naoya’s constant attention and the lack of ambrosia as you watch courtiers you hardly recognize kneel before the dais you sit on. They each have a ridiculously intricate gift for Naoya as they beg for his help with an idiotic political or social issue for their oh-so-gracious king to solve. Naoya asks for your input from time to time, not because he actually cares, but because he finds your growing annoyance hilarious.

A spirit bows in front of you on the dais. “Oh great King. I stand before you to ask you for your words of advice. You see, I have been in love with a woman for years. But it seems as though her heart has been captured by another man, and I believe she may marry him. How can I reunite with my beloved?”

Naoya taps his fingers against the bone of his throne’s armrest. “Hm. It seems you have quite the predicament. What do you think, darling dearest?”

You rub your fingers into your throbbing temple, muffling a groan of boredom. “Everyone gets their heart broken all the time. If you couldn’t tell this woman you loved her before she fell in love with the other man, maybe that’s your own fault. It’s not my problem, so why do I have to listen to your pathetic chatter?”

Naoya cackles loudly, pounding his fist against his throne’s armrest. “Aren’t you a romantic? Well, there’s your answer, lad.”

Naoya motions for the spirit to leave so that the next person can have their turn. But the spirit doesn’t budge.

“I never said she was in love with this man.”

Before you can ask what he means, the spirit throws off the raggedy cloak from his shoulders. As he does so, his form flickers until it solidifies into warm, solid flesh. You gasp. With the hood of the cloak no longer hiding the man, you instantly recognize his soft, white hair and piercing blue eyes as they meet your own. 

Naoya bellows, “What is this? A live mortal in my realm? I should have you strung and castrated, so that you may truly belong here, boy.”

Gojo Satoru points a long finger at Naoya in accusation. “You will release the Goddess of nature at once, or I’ll be forced to destroy you.”

Naoya nearly falls over in laughter. “Oh, I will, will I? And who do you think you are, speaking to the God of the Underworld like that?”

Satoru straightens his back so that he appears taller, and if you didn’t know who he was you would have thought he was a God himself. “I am Gojo Satoru, son of Zeus and champion of Nike. I act on behalf of Demeter, who demands you return her daughter, or else the destruction she has caused to the world above will continue to spread down until she destroys every corner of your so-called kingdom until there is nothing left of it.”

You don’t doubt Satoru’s ability to defeat Naoya, but the God just laughs in his face. That is, until the demigod pulls out his sword. You’ve never seen this weapon of his before. It’s so sharp, you swear you can actually see it cut the air into slivers. If you could guess, the weapon looks a lot like the work of Hephaestus himself. 

Satoru extends the weapon, pointing it directly at Naoya. “No? Then I will fight you and return the Goddess to her rightful home.” 

Naoya steps carefully off of his throne, unsheathing his Stygian blade. It’s an impressive, obsidian sword, but it dwarfs in comparison to Satoru’s weapon. 

Naoya hardly takes a step towards Satoru before the demigod has repositioned himself to the right, slashing his silver blade against the God of the Dead’s shoulder. Naoya blocks the attack, just barely. Their fight picks up after the first blow; Gojo presses his attacks forward in order to force Naoya to default to defensive blocks. Gojo’s strikes are fast and hard, constantly pushing Naoya back. He catches Naoya off guard, slashing his sword against the God’s face.

Naoya screams. “You insolent bastard. I’ll kill you for this.”

Satoru tucks his sword into its sheath. You want to scream at him to pull the damn weapon back out, but he just smirks at Naoya. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

He blasts a massive ball of electricity at Naoya, and you can taste the crackle of lightning on your tongue at the force of his power. It causes the cavernous roof above Naoya to crumble upon him. You know it won’t kill or even harm him all that much, but it will distract him for a few minutes. 

Satoru leaves Naoya under the rubble to leap onto the dais. He cups his hand against your cheek and soothes his thumb across your face. “Are you alright, my rose?” 

You press a shaky hand over his own. “I’m okay. Are you really here, Satoru?”

He laughs lightly, and you’ve never been happier to hear the sweet sound. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You blink in disbelief. “Because I’ve dreamt of this every night.”

His smile sobers up into a concerned furrow of his brow, cradling your face in order to press a kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes flutter at the warmth of his lips. 

“I’m here,” he promises. His larger hand presses yours against his chest, letting you feel his heartbeat. You love the speed of his heart, it’s just so unlike your own, so human. “But we really should leave before he collects himself, don’t you think, my rose?”

He takes you by your hand and pulls you deeper into the Underworld, until you stand before a tunnel that looks to lead up. Satoru ushers you ahead of him, keeping a hand at the small of your back. 

“An exit?” You ask, turning to face the demigod. “How on Earth did you find this?”

He grins. “Courtesy of the Messenger God. Even the Underworld gets deliveries.”

You frown. “Hermes just…told you about this?”

“For a price” he says, winking. Your stomach flutters at his casual flirtation.

A loud roar behind you caused your heart rate to spike. It’s easy to guess that Naoya has escaped, and the shout sounds entirely too close for your comfort.

Satoru rushes ahead of you, pulling you along behind him as he leads you away from Naoya’s realm as fast as he can. He leads you further up and up, not turning back as he hastens his pace. 

You stumble on the rough path, and Satoru looks back immediately, grasping you in his arms. “We can’t stop. Come, let me carry you.”

He sweeps you off your feet, and you have to clasp your arms around his neck to keep stable. You laugh into his neck as his hair tickles your cheek. 

The ascension is long, but Satoru doesn’t falter once. He just holds you tighter against him. When you're out on the surface, you suck in a breath as you finally see the night sky again. Satoru lets you down gently, and you crouch down to run your fingers through the dry, cold ground until lush grass and baby blue flowers sprout beneath your fingers. Tears fall from your eyes in joy. You’re home.

You straighten out, leaping right into Satoru’s arms. Without hesitation, he lifts you and spins you around. You can’t help but laugh in pure joy. Your arms wrap around your lover’s neck, pulling him into a sweet kiss. He deepens it easily, pressing himself against you. Your hands splay over his smooth cheeks, running your fingers over the smile stretching across his face. You nuzzle your nose against his, staring into his eyes as though you might slip away again. Something crackles behind you.

You don’t need to turn to know that your mother has arrived. You can feel her presence as if you share the same heartbeat. Satoru lets go of you so that you can hug her. You nearly sob at the feeling of her warm embrace. Demeter hugs you so tightly that you think you’d choke if you needed air like a mortal. She pulls back to stare at you, cupping your chin in her hand.

“My daughter has been rightly returned,” she announces on the breeze. You know her words will carry around the Earth, until the land prospers once more.

Demeter turns to Satoru. “Thank you, son of Zeus. You will be rewarded for your bravery. I can give you jewels, or a kingdom, or the strength of a thousand men.”

Satoru shakes his head. “I have no need for any of those material desires, My Lady.”

Demeter raises a brow. Knowing your mother, she might decide to smite him on the spot. You lay a hand on her shoulder and beg, “Please, mother.”

Demeter sighs at your pouting face. She scowls at Satoru, but she makes no move to kill him as of right now, which is good news. “Fine. What is it that you want, demigod?”

Satoru kneels before the two of you, dipping his head low. You are used to this reverence of his, but it makes you blush to see him like this after so long apart. “If I may ask, Lady Demeter, for one wish, it would be for you to allow me to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.”

Your eyes widen at the statement. Satoru’s head is bowed, and you can’t see his face. All you want right now is to see his face.

As if reading your mind, Satoru looks up at you. His eyes find yours, staring at you with love that you know your face reflects back. You want to kneel into the soft dirt in front of him. You want to touch, to hold him. You want.

Demeter hums. “Dangerous, son of Zeus, to wish for such a thing. Do you know what you’re asking me?”

Satoru’s eyes never leave yours. “Yes, I do.”

“So you know that you are a mortal, asking to marry a Goddess that will outlive you by ions, lifetimes. You know that Naoya will curse you for such mockery of his power. You will live and die painfully, and your afterlife will be full of eternal suffering. You will never see the gates of Elysium, if Naoya can help it.”

“I know,” Satoru repeats. “And I accept my fate, as long as I can spend the rest of my life at the Goddess’s feet. Even when I die a mortal death, I will love and worship her from beyond my grave, endlessly. This is the fate that I want.”

Demeter considers him, for a moment. You know your mother, and you know the exact moment she makes her decision. Tears pool in your eyes. She looks at Satoru, who is staring at you. She looks at you, staring right back at Satoru.

“I will not grant you this.” For the first time, Satoru’s attention snaps to your mother. His eyebrows quiver, and his mouth softens into a pout.

“Please,” he says softly. 

She glances at you, and you turn to see the mischievous glint in her eyes. “No, I cannot fulfill this request. If you wish to marry my daughter, that is a gift she must grant you. But I will give you a gift of my own choosing.” 

She holds her open palm to Satoru, and a golden apple materializes in her hand. This, you were not expecting from your mother at all. You both know what this represents. Immortality. Godhood. You stare at Satoru, and he stares up at you. 

Your mother becomes impatient. “Well, son of Zeus? What will it be?”

He takes your hands in his own. “My rose. I cannot offer you a kingdom or power like Naoya can. I am a mere breath in your presence. But I can offer you my whole and true love. I can promise that I will always serve you, loyally. As your husband, and as your humble servant. Will you allow me the pleasure of marrying you?” 

He barely finishes by the time you throw yourself at him, nodding emphatically and you press kisses all over his face. Your knees are dirtied by the soft ground, but you don’t care when Satoru’s entirety surrounds you. You inhale deeply, pressing your nose into his skin. He cradles your cheek in his warm palm, pulling away so that he can admire you. 

“My Goddess,” he murmurs.

Demeter grumbles and you can practically hear the roll of her eyes. “Lovesick fools. Aphrodite certainly had her fun with you two.”

[raven-dor]

hi my dear💕💕💕💕 i just need some gwayne hightower stuff….😥😥😥😥😥and i think so much about gwayne x rhaenyra's daughter!reader (strong of course)-where she has to marry him to stop this damn war between green and black. and it's so hard for both of them…like they are enemies, she is from black side, he is green… i know it may sound stupid, but please, i would really like to read it!💕💕💕💕

LOVED THIS REQUEST!! this is getting POSSIBLY posted this SATURDAY at 4pm EST, so keep an eye out!!

until then, here's a sneak peak of when you light the candle...

“I understand that I am quite homely compared to the beauties of Oldtown, but…” She shook her head, stalking toward him with an accusing finger pointed. “You embarrassed me at my own wedding. The least you could have done-” 

“You are not homely, my lady.” He reached a hand out, caressing her cheek. “Quite the opposite really.” 

She tensed, pulling out of his touch. “You Hightowers, always planning something. I am the heir to the Iron Throne, and you would treat me as a common woman, not worthy of your love or respect. Even if I wasn’t heir, you should never treat-”

She was quite beautiful, he’d noticed. Watching her rant about his family filled his heart with something he couldn’t quite place. Her eyes were passionate, full of fire and drive. Her hair was quite beautiful while it was down, so dark and full.

“Are you- are you even listening to me?” 

Gods, she had caught him staring. “I-” 

“I’m sure you are fantasizing about how you will take me during the bedding ceremony, but I assure you, this will be the most uninteresting moment of our married life. Hopefully, I will embarrass you as much as you embarrassed me.” She crossed her arms, satisfied with her dig at his supposed thoughts. While he struggled to find the words to respond, she began to remove her clothes, remaining covered by only her thin slip. 

His cheeks grew red, and he raised his eyebrows, trying not to combust. “Bedding ceremony?” Gods, his voice sounded as if it was being squeezed.

“Are you playing dumb?” She scoffed. “I am sure you have been to plenty a poor maiden’s wedding night.” 

He tilted his head, thoroughly confused. “I’m sorry if you have been led astray, but there is to be no bedding ceremony.”

“Ah.” She somehow felt… disappointed? “My mother saved me from that embarrassment at least.” 

“Well, it was actu-” She stormed past him, slipping on her robe and slippers. “Where are you going?” 

“Away from you. I don’t trust you not to-” 

While she was stunningly beautiful and quickly driving him into a stupor, he could not stand by and let her assume the worst about him. “Listen to me when I say this- I do not ever wish to embarrass you. Ever. It was I who denied the bedding ceremony. They brought it up to me, and when I denied them…” His eyes became dark. “That is a disgusting and vile tradition, one that I do not wish to practice.” 

She felt warm and caught herself smiling. Shaking her head, she pulled her robe closer to her body. “You- you vex me.” 

He laughed, stepping closer to her, a smirk gracing his handsome face. “You vex me just as much.” He held her hand, kissing the back gently. “My lady.” 

“You-” She growled, stomping her foot like a child. “Good night my lord.” Whipping around, she practically flew out the door, leaving Gwayne alone in their chambers.

hope you enjoy!!

[literaila]

"i don''t wanna get you sick"

from either reader or peter (sorry if you've already written a fic like this)

where’d you get your medical degree

tasm!peter x fem!reader

warnings: the ask says it all.

a/n: in lieu of sick season. and because of many illnesses (such as writers block, and insanity) which are preventing me from writing anything serious

*

“no,” you whine, pushing him away. “don’t touch me.”

peter is looking down at you with an incredulous look on his face. his hair is loose and his eyes are close, and he’s unbelievably pretty. like you have to blink a few times, just to make him appear normal—and a little less blurry.

you think he’s smiling too, but you can’t really see it. you might be dreaming.

“is there any particular reason why not, bub?”

his hands near you again, cold fingertips on your jaw, around your head. you groan and move your face away from them—even though it feels wonderful.

“i don’t know where those hands have been.”

peter snorts. “trust me,” he says, tilting your head back to him, “you do.”

your stomach turns, and suddenly his hands are a saving grace, so you grab both, holding them to your cheeks.

“change your mind?”

“cold,” you sigh, leaning as close as you can get to him.

“you’re burning, love, and not the elvis kind.”

you shake your head, eyes closed. “not funny,” you mutter.

“can you look at me real quick?”

you moan and close your eyes even tighter. “i’m tired, peter. come back when we’re open.”

“just let me see those pretty eyes and then you can sleep. i’ll even get you some comfier clothes. and some water.”

you move your legs around, feeling the stiff polymer pants you wore today, assuming that you wouldn’t be halfway to death by 3pm.

“how bout some ice cream?” you ask, opening one eye.

it is not lost on you that peter is trying to flirt with you. or that he’s frowning.

“your pupils are big,” he says, concisely. “did you get drugged?”

you giggle, moving away from him, his fingertips suddenly ticklish. “yes, from my computer,” you grin at him, closing your eyes again. “at my office job.”

“okay, stoner, what medicine did you take?”

you frown. “none.”

peter is frowning back. you can feel it. but you’re not going to open your eyes, just in case he’s suddenly brushed his hair or something. put on mascara. who knows what lengths peter would go to surprise you.

“wait,” you hold a finger up. “whatever’s in my bag, i think. i took it at work.”

peter sighs, patting your leg before he moves about the room, looking for a purse you must have lost.

you actually can’t really remember how you got home in the first place.

“if your fever gets any worse, we’re going to the doctor.” peter says this from across the room, and you’re pretty sure he’s not even talking to you. “here. this is just acetaminophen. how long ago?”

your face is pushed into the pillow beside you. it smells like peter, so you keep it there.

“loopy, can you just answer this one question?”

“the pillow is speaking to me.”

peter puts a hand on your back. “i am so sure you’re on drugs,” he says, almost adoringly. “the pillow is telling you that you need to clean up. trust me, we’re close. let’s get you into pajamas and then i’ll find you some stuff.”

you don’t move. maybe you didn’t hear him.

“bub,” he says, a bit louder, sterner. “c’mon, it’ll only take a sec.”

“not moving.” your voice is muffled. “ever.”

“how am i supposed to kiss you, then?”

you turn and peek out at him, lip curling at the mention. and then you cough. “you cant kiss me. i’m sick.”

“it’s disappointing that you think that would deter me.”

“if you’re sick how are you supposed to take care of me?”

“i’ll always take care of my baby,” he swears, leaning into you. if you were of right mind you might realize he wants a kiss. you might realize what you want.

but you only nod approvingly, and then smush your face back into his pillow.

peter groans. his hand moves to the back of your head, and he massages your scalp for a moment. “i know those clothes aren’t comfortable,” he pulls at your tight blouse, the one you wear when you want to feel good about yourself and you don’t mind neglecting to breathe. “even though it looks good on you. you’re sweating through it.”

your muffled voice returns: “do i smell?”

it’s a miracle that peter can understand anything you’re saying. “just like you,” he sniffs, “and maybe a bit like coffee? did you spill something on yourself?”

you don’t move. just hum into the pillow, hacking up a lung into it.

peter shakes his head. “i’m gonna need to wash that. up, baby. a shower would help your sinuses, but we’ll change if you’re tired.”

“baby,” you giggle to yourself.

“yes, baby, because you have de-aged significantly in the past hour. do i have to carry you to the closet?” his voice is teasing, but you’re not really sure that you can hear anything.

you finally turn, sitting up so you can look at peter. “am i being difficult?” you ask him, worriedly. your skin has shifted colors, and your voice is more like rock on rock. but you still frown at peter. “i’m sorry. you don’t have to do anything. i can change.”

but as you say it you double over in a coughing fit, and while you can feel peters hand on your back, you’re almost worried he’s already left.

“don’t be ridiculous,” he whispers when you’re silent again, swallowing. “i like taking care of you. though, i’m not loving that cough. do you need some water?”

you look at him, checking his eyes for something that you’d never be able to recognize in this state. and finally you nod, silent.

peter kisses your forehead and leaves for the kitchen.

you sit there, trying to keep your back perfectly straight. even through the overwhelming urge to lay back down in the bed and suffocate in the blankets.

you really just want to smell that pillow some more.

your head is pounding, and you try to remember if you even took that medicine in the first place. how long you’ve been sitting there. if peter even took your temperature in the first place.

but peter is back before you figure it out. “here,” he hands you a glass of water, watching you with narrowed eyes. “drink all of it.”

“i’m not thirsty.”

he glares at you and you smile, sipping on the water.

he smiles back, sitting down next to you and feeling all over your face with his hands. “what’s the status report?”

“still sick, but my mental capacity is coming back.”

“oh good,” peter says, leaning back but not letting go of you. “i was worried when you didn’t laugh at my elvis joke.”

you snort and lean right back into him, your head against his chest. he smells a lot better than cheap cotton.

“sorry ‘bout your pillow,” you cough out, leaning away from him suddenly so you don’t spit in his face.

“it’s fine. i enjoy a little snot with my sleep.”

“gross, peter.”

he grins down at you, kissing the top of your head again, because he is beyond adorable. then he sombers, still staring, carefully evaluating you. “do you want some more medicine? i think we’ve got some cold stuff in the cupboard.”

“the sleepy kind?”

“probably. take some of that. do you want to shower?”

“not really,” you say, letting him hold your head up. “i’m a little dizzy.”

peter frowns at you. “i’d make sure you don’t fall,” he offers.

“that’s okay,” and then you, once again, hack up some mucus in front of his face and sigh pathetically into your own hands.

“how about some tea? for your throat?” his hand moves yours away, brushing the hair out of your face.

“peter, it’s okay.”

you kiss his hand and push it away.

“the teas okay?” he frowns. “as in yes?”

“i’m okay,” you repeat, shaking your head at him. “you don’t have to do anything else. i’m fine.”

“you’re sick,” he corrects.

“i’m a big girl. i just need a nap. i’m probably not even sick.”

you emphasizes this point by choking down a cough, making your eyes water.

peter raises a brow.

you smile, tightly. “i’m just gonna go change now—“ you stand up, and then fall back down. your head spins as you feel peters hands wrap around your waist, his lips pressed against the side of your temple.

“just let me help,” he whispers, into you. “i’m not busy.”

“you had a long day.”

“i just want to cuddle with you anyway. i can take a few extra steps—like making you tea and getting you medicine.”

you shake your head. “i can do it.”

“i miss high you,” peter sighs. “c’mon, bub, stop being stubborn.”

you frown. “you’re the stubborn one. go swing and save someone else,” you tell him. “i just need a nap.”

“then i’m napping with you.”

you tilt your head back, groaning, and regretting it immediately when there’s a sharp stab in the front of your eyes.

peter kisses your now exposed neck, moving his hand so it keeps your head still. “you probably need to go to the doctor.”

“don’t be dramatic.”

peter scoffs. “you’ve got a fever of 103 degrees. i’m not dramatic.”

“i think i missed the era where you got your medical degree.”

peter scowls at you, pushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes and making sure you can see his conviction to never ever let this go. “it’s called webmd. it’s a wonderful place.”

“peter,” you whine, trying to push him away.

“baby,” he whines back, but smiles as he picks you up, like a literal baby, making sure not to jostle your head. “pajamas. what do you want to wear? and what’s the verdict on the tea?”

you sigh and lean your head into his neck. you don’t appreciate this, but it’s hurting to keep your eyes open. you cough into him, muffling yourself from the world. “can i wear your shirt?” you say, softly.

peter smiles like he’s won the lottery. you can feel it against your head. “yup,” he pops, “but it’ll cost you.”

“what?” you ask, sniffling.

“a kiss.”

he pecks your cheek, then your nose, and carries you away.

*