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seradyn · 2 months

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Fruit of Our Labor

Summary: Tav accidentally calls Astarion ‘pumpkin’ in a moment of thoughtlessness. What follows is a gentle baring of souls neither could have anticipated.

Pure tooth rotting fluff. Set in late act 1 although the relationship is much closer to where it is in act 2, but fuck it, we ball.

Also happy Valentine’s Day, this wasn’t meant to be a valentine’s fic but I just so happened to get a surge of motivation to finish it today so here we are.

Word count: 2944

Warnings: references to abuse

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It slipped out one night, while you were all sat around the fire.

The others were busy dividing up the spoils from the day’s adventures - equipment and coin passed around to those who needed it. A hearty stew, courtesy of Gale, sat warmly in your bellies, staving off the night’s chill while packs were passed around over idle chatter. The fire crackled and popped in the center of camp, but it was drowned out by the sounds of Scratch’s excited barks and the owlbear’s deep coos. They were roughhousing, no doubt.

You watched your companions fondly from your place curled up on Astarion’s lap, held snugly to his chest in a loose embrace. Surrounded by a nest of pillows that smelled of him, you felt pleasantly warm, despite his cold skin. He held a book out in front of you both, resting his chin on your head as he read, the rustle of pages being turned soothing you. You were sure if he was still alive, you could hear the gentle thumping of his heart beneath your ear, lulling you into a blissful sleep.

The evenings you two spent together, wrapped up in each other's scents, your shared warmth, had become a balm to your taxed souls. Some days it was all that kept you going, the promise of being soothed, comforted in a way that eased your wounds, either to your flesh or to your heart. His voice was a spell, his touch an enchantment, and you found yourself unable to resist his charms. He’d made you laugh on more occasions than you could count with his silver tongue, and his deep seductive purrs sent shivers to places you dare not name. Yes, you’d fallen for him. Hard.

Yet, you knew Astarion felt much the same way about you, even if he couldn’t admit it. You heard the soft sighs that parted his lips, saw the smiles that were real, like he’d glimpsed a piece of heaven, and it sat curled in his lap. The rays of sunlight he’d come to crave couldn’t hold a candle to your warmth, his undead body soaking it up greedily every time you were close. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine being embraced by the sun, with your voice a whisper on her gentle lips. He could never get enough of it. Of you.

It had taken many moons before Astarion was comfortable displaying this much affection openly. He kept the truth of his feelings close to his breast to protect himself, and from what he told you, you couldn’t say you blamed him. In his old life, before the mindflayers, affection was weakness, caring was weakness. And weakness was unacceptable, not for Cazador. He allowed no such things for his spawn, and if he found it, it would be corrected through nights of agonized bloodshed.

So you held Astarion’s hand as he learned. He was no stranger to intimacy, to late nights spent on his back, but this…this was all so very new to him. What was to hold hands, to hug, to cuddle? He may have known once, but that had been left in his grave, delivered from him by that kiss of death. You took care to remind him it was okay to take things slow, to not jump into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. You were patient. All you wanted was him to be happy, after all. Even if you weren’t sure he knew that, or would believe you if you told him.

Despite being his beloved partner, though, Astarion was still Astarion after all, and you found yourself on the end of no small amount of teasing. He always loved calling you pet names, clicking his tongue with a smirk as he purred ‘darling’, ‘beautiful’; a spider spinning a web around his unsuspecting prey. As much as it wounded your pride to admit it, you quite liked being his prey. You offered up your neck with growing delight, stifling moans and shudders each night he fed.

He enjoyed teasing you about that, too, much to your chagrin.

You weren’t going to let him have all the fun, though. Words were easy to coat in honey, and soon the whole camp rolled their eyes as you two bantered like a love sick couple. Worst of all was the pet names, which you two shot back at each other like arrows at waring rivals. ‘Little star’ made Astarion scowl in that oh so adorable way, while ‘honey’ had him preening proudly. It was fun, it was easy, and it made the unspoken emotions between you two easier to ignore.

Until it didn’t.

Once supplies had been distributed, the camp began discussing the plan for the following day. Moonrise Towers loomed far off in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, your fates locked behind its black gates. Your group would need to pick up the pace if you wanted to arrive within the next fortnight. But Lae’zel was adamant - she needed to visit the nearby crèche, and made it clear she would venture to it with or without company. She was stubborn as a mule, and Shadowheart was more than happy to seize the opportunity to lock horns with her.

You sighed as you watched the growing argument unfold. Those two could fight over the color of the sky, and somehow it always fell to you to make them see reason. Gale and Karlach tried desperately to keep things under control, but even Wyll had no luck with them. Halsin watched with a frown on his face, but knew intervening was futile. They listened to you - you weren’t sure why, but they did.

You felt Astarion turn his head towards the commotion, pursing his lips in annoyance. Normally, he delighted in conflict, especially between Shadowheart and Lae’zel, but now that he knew it would mean your own involvement, having you snatched away ruined any enjoyment he may have found in it.

“And what does our charismatic little leader think we should do?” He whispered, hoping it would distract you from your duties. You decided to let it too, burying yourself deeper into his chest, sighing deeply his scent of bergamot and rosemary. You did not want to deal with their bickering right now. You had yet to fight off a drowsiness that crept over you while you lounged in his lap, which was the only explanation you could think of for what you said next.

“We’ll just have to see what tomorrow brings, pumpkin.”

“Pumpkin?!” Astarion stiffened beneath you, a scowl appearing on his face as the tranquil atmosphere dissolved. You blinked at the clear offense in his tone, leaning back to gaze at his disgruntled expression, worry set in your own features.

“Excuse me, darling, but what exactly do I have in common with some unsightly gourd?” He huffed indignantly. The camp quieted from his outburst, several heads turning in your direction. They were wise enough to not interfere, though.

Ah, he thought it was a comment on his appearance, you realized with a sinking feeling. Astarion was sensitive to such things, as he’d shown when you learned he’d been unable to see himself since he turned. It was something he took pride in, one of the only things he could well and truly call his own. You hadn’t meant it that way, of course, but you weren’t surprised that’s how he took it, given his history. He hadn’t been overly enthused when you commented on his lovely laugh lines, or the adorable beauty mark just below his left eye, to put it mildly, and now you’d compared him to a lumpy, often deformed fruit. Guilt poked at your heart for your thoughtlessness.

“You have many things in common with pumpkins,” you said calmly. Perhaps he could see the compliment in it yet. He flared his nostrils, but you pressed on before he could protest. “They’re vibrant, beautiful, and tough on the outside, just like you.” You booped his nose playfully. “But they’re also soft, delicious, and wonderful on the inside, just like you.”

Astarion remained tense as he stared at you, scanned you, like a hawk does the calm fields for a stray mouse. The wrinkling of his nose furrowed his brow, and it took every ounce of willpower not to lean up to kiss his doubts away. His gaze slowly began to soften, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Well, I suppose when you put it that way, perhaps we do have some similarities,” he admitted with a huff. Relief flooded your veins as he settled back into the cushions, inviting you back into his lap once he was comfortable. He looped an arm around your waist, holding you close with a gentle squeeze - a silent thank you for the unexpected compliment.

Soon it was decided; you would be taking Lae’zel to see her kin the following day. There were grumbles here and there about acquiescence to the warrior’s demands, but you made it clear she was your ally as much as any of them. With plans made and bellies full, most retired to their tents, intent on getting some rest. You found yourself settling in Astarion’s, naturally. Honestly, you sometimes wondered why you bothered to put up your own tent at all. Even your small collection of books had come to join his, stacked unorganized in a corner. You carefully plucked one from the tower, sitting down with it as Astarion continued to fuss with the various blankets strewn about.

Eventually, you felt him settle, a contented sigh parting his lips. You peeked at him over the top of your book, and was surprised to find his eyes on you.

“So…about that, little pet name…” he began, his voice a low purr. You felt your cheeks flush a lovely crimson as you lowered your book, you weren’t sure if from embarrassment or from his tone.

“Ah - I’m sorry, my love,” you said sheepishly. Perhaps he was still upset about it. “I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” he said, catching you off guard.

He wasn’t upset?

“I only hope you’ll try to refrain from calling me such things in front of our companions,” He explained. “I do have a reputation to uphold.” Another smirk spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Appearances were very important to Astarion, and though you couldn’t say you understood it, you would respect his boundaries. “‘Course ‘Star, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Good,” he hummed, planting a soft kiss on your temple. Your lips spread in an involuntary smile as you returned to your book, a calmness returning to the tent. Though, Astarion was rarely happy with silence, and you noticed him still hovering on the edge of your periphery.

“You know,” he drawled, ducking his head to catch your gaze. You locked eyes with him, those beautiful rubies, getting lost in how they nearly glowed in the dim light.

“You do call me an awful lot of pet names, darling. Why not settle on one?”

You lowered your book again, setting it aside to grant him your full attention. “And pass up the chance to tell you all the different ways I find you beautiful? I think not.”

Astarion seemed taken aback momentarily by your answer, before he quickly recovered, puffing out his chest and smirking pridefully.

“Darling, you’re allowed to just call me beautiful,” he said, examining his nails. “I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing it more.”

It was barely detectable, but you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. Your smile faltered. Astarion told you enough about his past for you to know how his looks had been twisted for his master’s use; put on display and paraded around like a beloved doll. Early on in your relationship, he had made it clear he thought your interest in him stemmed from that alone, his looks. It was all he’d ever known, all anyone wanted him for. It was natural for him to believe you were the same.

You vowed to yourself that you would always make sure to remind him that was not the reason you pursued him. Yes, he was handsome, that fact was undeniable, but it was not what led you to seek him out, what had led to your trysts that turned into something more. You made a promise to always remind him of that, no matter how long it took until he believed it.

“My love…” you said softly, the words falling easily from your lips as you grabbed his free hand and held it close to your chest. Astarion stiffened at the sudden contact, and you paused, allowing him to pull away if he so desired. He never did though, and you took that as a sign to continue, placing gentle kisses on the back of his knuckles. You had to hide a smile when you felt the tension ooze from his muscles. “There are so many things about you that are beautiful, simply saying it would be an injustice.”

Astarion’s eyes widened slightly, and they scanned you for any hint of deceit, any hint of motive behind your words. You smiled warmly at him, hoping he could see all the love and adoration you poured into it.

“I think it’s beautiful when you get excited whenever you snatch a coin purse out of someone’s pocket. It’s beautiful when you tell me about the books you’re reading, and when you pout whenever Gale opens his mouth.”

Astarion let out a sharp laugh at that. He made no secret of his distaste for the wizard.

“But most of all, I think it’s beautiful when you laugh, because I think, even for just that little moment, I get to see you happy. So yes, that’s why all the pet names. Because not one of them could fully capture how beautiful you really are.”

“Darling…” he whispered, sounding almost breathless. He sat up a touch, his hand coming up to delicately cup your cheek, his thumb gliding across your skin reverently. He leaned forward, and your eyes fluttered closed as his lips ghosted across your own. The kiss was soft and delicate, gentle in a way you knew he reserved only for you. Similarly, you hoped he could feel how much you cared for him in the way you moved your mouth against his.

When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours, breaths intermingling as you held each other close.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

His voice was barely above a whisper, and your heart cracked at hearing the pain etched into it, the disbelief. What didn’t you do to deserve happiness, you wondered, but you knew how he would respond. 200 years of luring people back to a cruel master, a cruel fate, and you knew why he had to ask.

You remembered something he’d said, when you asked him about Cazador and his past. Something that made your chest ache, like it was now.

It was about time those memories were replaced.

“You existed. That was enough for me.”

You could tell he recognized them, his own words. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he heard them echoed back at him. You smiled then, pouring all the unsung emotions into that expression. You hoped he could see it, how your heart beat for him.

And maybe he did, for he quickly pulled you into a nearly crushing embrace, burying his face in your neck. He breathed deeply your scent, your essence, holding you like he was afraid you might disappear should he let go. He couldn’t lose you now. He couldn’t. He wasn’t sure his undead heart could take it.

You returned his embrace, sighing as you felt him relax into your form. You absentmindedly began rubbing circles into his back with the pads of your fingers, tracing the outline of his scars with unconditional reverence. You liked to imagine yourself massaging away some of the pain and torment of his unlife whenever you got the privilege to hold him like this. It made you both feel a little better.

Soon enough though, your body began to sag from exhaustion, the events of your tumultuous journey catching up with you. You leaned out of Astarion’s embrace, earning a slight pout from him, but you quickly assuaged his worries by placing a gentle kiss below his ear.

“We should get some rest,” you murmured, and he hummed in agreement. You laid down across your shared bedroll, opening your arms invitingly for him. He eagerly curled up over you, resting his head on your chest with a sound almost like a purr. Your arms returned around him, one hand coming up to delicately card through his silky curls, massaging his scalp as you closed your eyes.

It was moments like these you had to bite your tongue from saying the words that had begun to echo deep in the cavity of your chest. You called each other ‘love’ in teasing, but outright saying those blasted three words still frightened both of you. Even though you felt it every time you looked at him these days, your heart soaring as easily as an eagle flies, your very veins filled with nothing but adoration. But, you knew he wasn’t ready. He was still navigating the turbulent sea of his past, his present, and the rapidly approaching future. You had no desire to push him beyond what was comfortable for him.

So you would wait. You would wait until he was ready to love you. Ready to be loved. You didn’t mind, really.

You would wait an eternity for him.

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First Astarion fic lets go. Will probably write more in the future, but will also probably focus on my long fic for another game first. Either way hope you enjoy 💕

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion

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cece693 · 3 months

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You Call That Love? (Damon Salvatore x Male Reader)

Because I don't see many Damon Salvatore x male reader posts, I decided to write one myself. You can't convince me that Damon hasn't had male lovers before.

Summary: Elena tries to get with Damon but soon realizes he has moved on—with m/n of all people.

Their lips moved in a frenzied dance, hands tearing at each other's clothes in a passionate embrace when the gasp of a familiar, bothersome human interrupted their intense makeout session. Looking up at Elena with an annoyed expression, m/n rolled his eyes before sitting upright, allowing Damon to hastily put his shirt back on. It wasn't for Elena's sake, because, frankly, he couldn't care less about her feelings, but M/n was a fiercely jealous man. He wouldn't give Elena even a glimpse of what was solely his.

"Why?" she whispered pathetically, her brown eyes tearing up while looking at Damon as if he had just killed her parents. "I thought we had something—"

Unable to contain his laughter, m/n released a hearty chuckle. "Why, Miss Elena?" he mocked "I distinctly remember you bragging about your relationship with Stefan not even a week ago. What happened? Trouble in paradise?" Feeling Damon's arms wrap around his middle, m/n cuddled against Damon's front, allowing the vampire to take what he needed.

M/n wasn't naive to the fact that Damon still harbored some feelings for Elena, although the nature of said feelings had changed. So, just for him, m/n would step back and allow things to run their course.

"You don't know anything," Elena hissed, her eyes narrowing at m/n with utter hatred. Ever since he stepped foot into Mystic Falls, her life changed for the worse: Bonnie and Caroline finally stood their ground and told Elena they didn't want to be involved in her problems. Recently, Stefan and she broke up; Stefan, noticing the eerie similarities between Katherine and Elena as of late, decided to break the cycle and began dating Caroline. But, worst of all, when Elena finally (or rather knew she had no other option) admitted she loved Damon, the vampire disregarded her confession, telling her he'd moved on—with m/n of all people.

"Elena," Damon's stern tone caused the girl to break eye contact and look expectantly at the vampire. A part of her still hoped Damon would realize the mistake he was making, but as the vampire continued talking, hope vanished. "I don't love you. M/n made me realize that what we had was toxic and borderline obsessive. Being with Stefan, then me, Matt—that isn't love."

"Don't try to tell me how I feel," Elena exclaimed. "I'm sorry it took me such a long time to realize my feelings, but you can't tell me what I feel for you isn't valid." Feeling bold, Elena stepped forward, about to touch Damon and reel him back into her web of manipulation, when m/n had enough and pinned the human to the wall, his hand on her throat. Uncaring if she could breathe, m/n felt this was sufficient punishment for Elena, thinking she could touch what was his.

Elena gasped for breath as m/n's grip tightened, her eyes widening with fear. M/n's voice sliced through the air like a blade, each word carrying the weight of resentment.

"You thought you could have it all, didn't you?" he sneered, his cold e/c eyes piercing into hers. "Stefan, Damon, and whoever else caught your fleeting attention. You don't care about anyone other than yourself. Where was this love when Damon was begging you to choose him? Your exact words were nobody could love a monster like you. And now you want to rewrite history? He's with me now, and I suggest you come to terms with that."

With a final, disdainful glance, m/n released his grip on Elena's throat. "You're twisting everything!" she exclaimed after regaining composure, her voice strained. "You don't know the whole story. What Damon and I have is real."

As Elena struggled to defend herself, Damon's expression shifted with each word she uttered. At first, her claim to have loved him drew a flicker of skepticism in his eyes. However, as she delved into the reasons for denying his love, a mix of hurt and anger played across his features. "I loved him, but he was too caught up in his own darkness to see it."

Damon's jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed with a wounded expression. It was as if her words had scraped at an old wound, reawakening the pain of rejection. "People change, m/n. Damon could have changed for me." The pair of vampires now stared in disbelief. How had Elena managed to turn herself into a victim in this situation?

"Change? Is that what you call it?" Damon's retort cut through the air like a cold gust of wind, his voice edged with bitterness. His eyes, once clouded with hurt, now blazed with a fiery resolve. "You left, Elena. You chose someone else. You choose Stefan." M/n, standing beside Damon, could sense the raw emotion emanating from the vampire, a poignant mixture of anger and hurt.

"M/n accepted me for who I am," Damon continued, his voice steady and absolute. "He didn't demand that I change, mold myself into someone more palatable to fit your version of love. You can't rewrite history just because you don't like the ending."

Frustration etched across Elena's face. "Fine, have it your way," she spat, casting one last resentful glance at Damon and m/n before storming out of the house, the door slamming shut behind her. Even as the sound of Elena's car drew farther away from the boarding house, Damon's eyes lingered on the closed door.

M/n turned to Damon, his gaze softening as he assessed his lover beside him. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern.

Damon's eyes, focused on the closed door, shifted to m/n. The heaviness that lingered in his eyes was replaced by an unspoken acceptance that this chapter of his life had closed. "Yeah," he replied, "Thanks for handling that."

M/n nodded, his expression conveying understanding. "You know I've got your back, always." Damon's eyes softened, a subtle warmth replacing the tension that had gripped him moments before. He didn't need grand gestures or elaborate confessions; the simplicity of m/n's words told him everything he needed to know.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

#male reader #x male reader #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #tvd #elena gilbert #fanfic #caroline forbes #bonnie bennett #matt donovan #the salvatore brothers #katherine pierce #vampires #damon salvatore x male reader #male reader insert

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kissditrio · 9 months

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When DILFS collide.

PART 1.

3K WORDS

WARNING NSFW.

cw: Dirty talk, daddy kink?, mentions of “puppy” in sexual context (being called puppy), bondage, kinda sub Toji for a sec, desperation, mentions of bimbo, unprotected sex, begging.

First time writing here’s part 1 of full fic bc it got lots of love, tank u guys enjoy! 🦇

Miguel spent most of his time putting away anomalies. Most of them being villains spiderman or spidermen? Would commonly fight.

Doc Oc, Prowlers’ , even green goblins. Sometimes having to call for backup even if he really didn’t want to. Dragging them back to HQ and sending them home. It was somewhat easy, very tiring but nothing new.

But as he stared at the large man with a bulky frame maybe just a inch or two below him, he really thought he finally saw it all.

“You don’t belong here.” Miguel growled at the man.

Finally webbing his ankles together because, holy fuck could this guy move quick. He accepted his defeat. He gave a hearty chuckle and stuck out his lip towards Miguel.

“Not g’na take me to dinner now are ya?” He sneered. The scar on his lip turned upward into a crooked smile. Miguel scowled and opened a portal.

You had been working at the Spider HQ for just over 7 months. Miguel considered you one of the best amongst them. Not because you guys would fuck like catholic rabbits, but because you were an amazing spider. You were in Miguel’s “office” because you liked being in there, the control room everyone would walk in but his office was a little reserved and spacious so you could finally sit in silence. You shut your eyes as you leaned back into his wheeled chair with cushions so soft you wonder how Miguel hasn't been caught sleeping in here.

“HAHAHAHAAA-“ you jumped up.

Miguel’s office door swung open, and he was carrying an awfully large man who was laughing as if he was piss drunk.

“Spider society, you kids are really crazy about Halloween huh?” The man snorted.

Miguel dropped him down and made his way over to you and his desk.

“Move.” He tiredly demanded.

Understanding he’s just having a day you quietly move out of his way for him to sit and type away at his computer.

“Wow, kicking a lady out of her chair, no manners. Cant even be a fuckin’ man eh?” The man snapped out his laughing delirium.

You looked at this guy as he sat on the floor, he looked at you. Somewhat short hair that was black as could be, it stopped middle of his neck, on the taller side, tired eyes, and a noticeable scar on his lip. With a a devilishly mischievous smile.

“You want a fuckin’ photo or something?” He furrowed his brows, and spat on the floor.

You look away sheepishly and mutter an apology before walking back over to Miguel.

“Who’s he?” You ask sweetly.

“No fuckin’ manners, fuckin’ hell.” The man hisses.

“M’ right fuckin’ here ya know?” He grumbles.

“You’re worse than that ‘merc with a mouth’ please shut up.” Miguel sighs. The man rolls his eyes at him, and halts while doing so. You and Miguel could both see a lightbulb form in his head.

“My god is so sensitive tough guy.” He chuffed. He smiled and looked around “mm I wonder if it’s just as easy to make you yell as it is for me to get under your skin. Or maybe under the sui-“

Miguel webs his mouth shut, and sighs heavily. Rolling his shoulders as he rubbed his face.

“I don’t know.” He frowned. “Found him, got another problem to add into to the list of the multiverse almost-“

“Almost collapsing I know.” You rub his tense frame.

“Take a breather Miggie, you’re not going through a storm with a cloud overhead.” He sighed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Ay, I know.” He rolls his eyes and moves slowly towards the door.

“I’m gonna go ask a few spiders for their opinion, and about where he’s from. Watch him and do not let him go.” He warns a finger at you.

You nodded enthusiastically and even did a silly little “attention” posture. Making him smile, oh how you loved his tired smile. He shut the door. You walked over to the man again and leaned down.

“Here sorry about him shushing you, but I’ll get this off since I know it’s probably really uncomfortable.” You say with a smile. You avoid making direct eye contact not to be rude but because fuck. He’s really hot.

You peel off Miguel’s web carefully so as to not add another scar on his face.

“There we go.” You smile hard under your mask.

“My name is y/n.” You gave a small wave.

The man looked at you for a bit.

“Toji.”

“Toji?”

“That would be it, yes.” He gruffed.

“Nice to meet you To-“

“Could you make it less obvious about you fucking your baby daddy tho? Fuckin’ A’ practically garglin’ his balls infront of my fuckin’ face.” He spat.

Your heart thumped really loud at the vulgar words.

“I- we- I just-“

“aht aht, don’t get all shy now, miss spider." he smiled as he tried to reach towards you but ah, his hands also tied.

Mmmm. He sighed.

“Wanna let me out of these baby? I promise I’ll behave.” He gave a fake doe eye look.

“No, Spider-2099-“

“Miguel?” He scoffs.

You swallowed.

“Yes Miguel, said I can’t let you go because-“

“Is he your daddy or something?” He chuckles. Your face is so hot had you not been wearing your mask he would’ve laughed harder.

You turned around and stomped towards Miguel’s chair and sat. Angrily turning it around.

“Aww puppy don’t be so mean. I’m just having as much fun as a tied up man can.” He whined.

You ignored. He gave a heavy ass sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Some shit daddy you got, if I was fucking you, you wouldn’t be this goddamn shy bout sex. I’d have you trained.” He smiled, eyeing you for a reaction.

You turned the chair back around and squinted your eyes. Which he could see.

“I’m not your little fuck toy, Toji.” You spoke through gritted teeth. God forbid you bit down any harder they would’ve cracked.

“Mmm baby don’t say that, g’na hurt my feelings. G’na make me cry, wanna make me cry?” He faux whines.

“YES!” You shouted.

Wow both you and Miguel have such a short fuse. Maybe that’s why you guys work. Here he thought you’d be a sweetheart. Well you were but he likes bringing out the worst in people.

He’s got you right where he wants you. He laughs at you.

“You gonna come and shut me up? Web my mouth closed?” He starts smiling with teeth.

“I just might if you don’t shut the fuck up.” You started to huff.

“Such a naughty little thing, bratty too.” He groaned and stifled out a moan. You were marching towards him each step heavier and angrier than the last.

“If you even think-“ you pointed a finger before you looked down. He was sitting so you could see him squirming but you also saw… a bulge. It was big. And painfully obvious. Now you shouldn’t be so thrown off right now, you’re trying to set a point.

“Mmm have I finally got your attention like you do mine?” He asks. You open your mouth and can’t seem to form a sentence or stop staring at it. It was throbbing in his loosely fitting pants. And you could see every bit of it.

“My god so fucking cock hungry eh?” He smiles. “Never seen a real cock before mmm?” He scoots closer to you. Your eyes stay trained on it, why can’t you look away?? It’s not like you’re new, you’ve seen Miguel’s and he was more than enough. So why are you aroused?? You suck in your bottom lip and grab a breath as Toji leans his face closer to you.

Toji smiles up at you, and lays his head against your thigh while you stand.

“Cmonnn baby.” He plants a kiss on the inner part of your thigh.

“Untie me. I gotta fuck you. You see how badly I want to no? I can’t fake that.” He moans into your suit.

You tap your foot and chew your lip anxiously. You look at the wall clock then at the room's door.

“Just… one little.” You hold up a finger.

“Mhm yeah- fuck just one little quickie puppy. You can tie me back up after.” he’s kissing your clothed thigh. You curse yourself. You should not be this aroused, let alone be giving into fucking. However you and Miguel hadn’t done it in a while because you’re both so busy, and too tired when you really do want too, sooooo you swallow your pride; sigh and remove the strings attaching his hands and ankles together.

“O-okay” you said shakely. “Now listen I can still we-“

He grabs you by your wrists and slams you into the desk, moaning into your neck and rubbing his clothed erection against your cunt.

Holy fuck he’s quick. You yelp a bit before he wraps a hand around your neck, you try pushing him off, which he just takes this time to tear your mask off.

Oh that’s a no no.

You’re already fucking a villian and you let him see you? Fuck Miguel is gonna be so upset.

“Such a pretty face.” Staring at you with hungry eyes.

“Take this fuckin suit off fa’ me.” He moans into your ear. He steps back giving you the room, you obediently push yourself up and reach for the smaller lining in the back, peeling your suit off. Toji eyed your every move your body made, groaning softly when your boobs spilled out in your tight ass laced bra, your hips too. But your fuckin waist oh he could grip it and fuck you day in and out. Now only standing in your undergarments he smiled wide.

“Fuck me.” He stared at you making you shy, face heated. He was palming himself while eye fucking you like you weren’t standing in front of him, truly a shameless man. He walked over to the other side of the desk and sat in the chair and tapped his hand against the desk for you to sit as well.

“We have to hurry.” you whisper afraid of someone hearing you.

“Hmmm” he paused before your clothed cunt. He spread your legs, eyeing your pussy through the black fabric that was covering it. Leaning in and taking a deep inhale.

Fucking pervert.

You moaned softly which made the hair on his neck stand up, he rolled his eyes into the back of his head before putting his mouth over your whole heat, my god he made you feel little. He moaned against your panties and flicked his tongue around, inhaling and exhaling just as deep as he touched himself. He pulls back and uses one finger to peel your panties off.

“Wow.” He gives a wolf smile. Staring drunk at your bare cunt. You go to shut your legs in embarrassment, which makes him smack the fat of your thigh and pry them back open.

He gets close again, sticking his tongue out before licking one stride down from your clit to your slit, making you choke out a moan.

“Hurry up!” You demand.

He keeps his tongue barely moving over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He scowls at you.

God dammit I can’t believe myself.

“F-fuck, please mister, please touch me.” You whimper out. He smiles and obliges. He rolls out the fatter bit of his tongue against your clit moaning every so often to keep it stimulated, one of his fingers goes towards your hole slipping in pretty easily as embarrassing as you care to admit. He rolls his tongue over the nerve over and over again, not letting up, causing a stream of gentle moans to come out of you, you tangle your fingers in the raven-hair and roll your hips. He dug his other hand into the fat of your hips and pumped up to two fingers. He begins sucking on your clit violently and you begin to squirm. You thrash around a bit moaning louder than you imagined.

“Fuck fuck fuck!!” You gasped out, rolling your hips more, feeling this little knot feeling build in your tummy. You pressed your pussy impossibly closer to his face which he indulged. Moaning as he pumped his fingers in and out and he began to curl them up towards that little soft spot of yours.

It made your toes curl, and you formed an “o” shape with your mouth as your legs began to shake. Your orgasm was literally gonna crash into you.

“I’m gonna- oh fuck- I’m gonna cum Toji.” You whined eagerly.

“Ple-please lemme cum on your tongue Toji, I wanna make a mess.” You babbled, brain already fogging which made him laugh, he stopped sucking and slapped your pussy ramming his fingers in and out of you, before sucking on the bud again. He moaned cheekyly, encouraging you to go over the edge. The knot finally snapped, making you almost scream and your thighs clamp around his head and legs shook into a halt. You laid there in ecstasy. Sighing trying to pull yourself together.

Toji flipped you onto your stomach and pulled your bra off, going back to attack your clit. You squirmed and tried pushing him off which clearly upset him since he landed a hard slap on your ass.

“I didn’t fuckin’ say to move you little bimbo, keep the fuck still or I won’t fuck ya.” He warned through his teeth. He licked at your puffy pussy again before bringing his cock out, giving it long strokes throwing his head back. You whined.

You peeked behind you. It was definitely big, between him and Miguel you weren’t sure but his balls looked so heavy. So full. It made you clench around nothing.

He moaned and pushed his tip at your entrance. Collecting your juices on his cock as he pumped himself slowly groaning with each pump. You whine and bucked your hips back as you try to turn around fully. He smacks the other cheek just as hard, and holds your neck down forcing you to look forward. He leans down once more.

“Keep. Still.” And he meant it.

“Please Toji please.” You begged. He smacks you again making you shed a tear.

He smacks his cock against your soaking entrance thrusting between your folds and moaning against the shell of your ear.

“Toji?” He questions like the name was alien to him.

You say something so barely above a whisper he moves his hand from the back of your neck to you jaw clenching it tightly.

“Say it again.” He growls.

You sniffle, “daddy-“

Toji smiles.

“Such a good lil bimbo fa’ me, fuck.” He pushes his tip at your entrance again, letting it slip in a bit and you squeeze around it. You’re suffocating him, he inhales sharply. You’d taken Miguel plenty of times but usually you were a lot more prepared, Miguel took his time with you, and worshiped you. Toji just made you slick enough so his dick wouldn’t burn sliding in. And you fucking loved it. To be used like you meant nothing, just a cock sleeve, it made you whine more.

He pushed his tip further in earning a sharp moan from you. He continues pushing and stretching his way rudely into you. Taking off his shirt as he finally bottoms out, you let out a slutty cry.

“Fa-fyuck yes. Oh my god.” You drooled.

Toji threw his head back and laughed.

“Oh fuck you’re a trip puppy, g’na make sure I pump this pussy full before I leave yeah?” In which you nodded. By now you had adjusted to his size so Toji got to moving. He started off a bit slow, but as you gripped into the desk he pushed your legs further apart and bullied his cock into you.

“Ffffuckin’ hell.” He rasped into your ear, pressing his chest down against your back. You arch a bit trying to get as much of him as you can swallow into your little cunt.

“Fuck yes!” Your eyes rolled. “Oh my gosh mister please keep going keep touching me, fuck use me, use me Toji!” You babbled desperately. He hooked onto your hip dips and rammed into you like a man starved of physical touch.

“FUCK!” He shouted, he wrapped his hand around the front of your neck this time and began squeezing. Depriving you of air every few seconds which just added to the light headed feeling you were already experiencing.

“Mmm fuck how does daddy’s cock feel, better than that brooding ass fuck Miguel.” He taunts.

“Dun say that.” You moan.

“Mmm you’re drenching my cock and practicing tryna fuck onto me puppy. Clearly he ain’t fuckin’ you right, but don’t worry.” Smacking your ass several times until they stung.

“Daddy’s home.” He drills into you and you feel that knot coming back, one orgasm pulled from you yet you felt so overstimulated, this was so new and so good. It was so exciting. You clamped around Toji desperately like some bitch in heat.

“Fuck mister m’gunna.” You whined.

“Yeah?” He taunted. He pulled out and flipped you onto your back again just to slide in as easily and hammer into you, either knee over his shoulder.

“FUCKKK!” The both of you shouted in union. He was angling you to where he’d hammer into you g-spot and brush your cervix with a soft kiss each time. Too much.

“M’ cummin Toji oh my gosh I’m gonna cum I can’t anymore.” You cried, chanting his name like a ritual was happening.

“Go on puppy, cum, make a fuckin mess on my cock yeah?” He slapped you and leaned to moan against your ear. You dug your nails down his back making his cock twitch inside of you.

“Oh fuck..” you both moaned staring into each others eyes.

“Fuck- make a mess of me daddy p-please- make-.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

You halted.

And turned.

Miguel…

To be continued?….

©Kissditrio <3

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #miguel x reader #toji jjk #miguel astv

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yichuuonvenus · 2 months

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Sweet Serial Killer

Peter Parker x Reader

~Description~

You've had a little crush on your brother's friend Peter, but you didn't know he felt the same until it was too late.

~Warnings~

Rape/non-consent, Murder, Loss of virginity, Webbing as bondage, Serial Killer!Peter Parker

The first time you ever met your brother’s friends was during one of their first sleepovers as a group. After that, it seemed like they came over frequently.

Your parents told you to look after the boys. You found it a bit dumb since they were only a year younger than you, but you still agreed to it. You were getting money for it after all.

The funny part was that you only knew one of their names, Peter, your brother told you one day. You only wanted to know because you had the smallest crush on Peter. It wasn’t anything big you just liked it whenever he would give you all his attention when you talked about something you liked or how he would apparently ask about you when you weren’t home.

You knew the chance of him having a crush on you too was slim to none, he was like that with everyone. He was just curious nothing more but you still dreamt of the chance of him liking you back.

You slumped a bit when you remembered tonight was horror movie night. To be honest you weren’t a horror fan you always opted to turn on something a bit more romantic or interesting. It always caused an eye roll from the boys but you didn’t really care because one person who would always be down to watch the movie with you was Peter.

You immediately stopped when you took the scene in front of you and frowned. Peter had sat at the corner of the couch. Your favorite spot, while the others sat on the floor with pillows and blankets surrounding them.

You heard a voice say your name followed by a hey.

You looked up and saw those soft brown eyes and immediately forgot what you were going to say.

“Hi…”

You smiled at him and he smiled back. You didn’t know what to do, so you gave him a small wave and sat on the other end of the couch.

“Do you want me to move?” Peter's voice was soft when he asked.

“No, it’s alright.” You shook your head and pulled out your phone, trying to ignore him a bit. You didn’t want to look at him with the heat currently rushing to your face.

The night was just starting and the boys were still trying to pick a movie.

You rolled your eyes when you heard one of the boys say something vulgar about something you didn’t care to listen to. You sat on your phone ignoring them arguing about what movie to watch.

It took what felt like an hour before they decided on Friday the 13th. You did a small sigh and hugged a pillow close to your chest.

It was quiet for the first couple of minutes. You hated to say it but you were scared of horror movies. You wanted to be the brave older sibling and stick to your guns, but then you started to hear scratching at the window. One of the boys addressed it causing your brother to shush him.

It stopped for a minute and then it slowly started back again. The scene was adding to the tension. Every time a woman screamed a scratch would be at the window. Finally, another boy said something and again your brother shushed him.

It went quiet for a few moments then you all continued with your movie. As if in sync with the movie, a loud bang sounded the window causing the boys and you to scream. Everyone was as startled but your brother fell over from laughing.

“Harry!” One of them said.

At the window, you saw a flash of auburn hair. A boy probably about the size of Peter stood at the window laughing. He pointed to the door. The black-haired boy got up and opened it. When Harry came inside. He had tears on his face from laughing so hard.

“You all are so easy to scare!” A hearty laugh left his throat causing one of the boys to groan.

“You can’t do that! We are watching a scary movie,” the black-haired boy said.

“Yeah you scared her too,” Peter said eyes drifting back to you.

You looked at Peter his stare never drifting away from you. You felt something in your chest heat up from his stare but you didn’t give it any thought.

You rolled your eyes to hide the fact you felt the heat in your cheeks. You looked towards Harry whose eyes went wide at the sight of you.

“I didn’t know she would be here,” he sighed with a mix of a chuckle, “if I knew I would’ve got the mask.”

The boys laughed a bit as Harry plopped down next to your brother. The heat on your face never went away. You sat there biting your lip and continued reading the story. They all talked a bit before playing the movie back.

It was getting darker and you all were feeling quite tired. Your brother went down first. Then the black-haired boy, who they called Ned.

And then Harry.

You and Peter were the only ones awake. You sat on your phone reading whatever. You felt your eyes drifting a bit until you finally closed your eyes.

You felt a shake and then a push. You slowly opened your eyes to find Peter looking down at you.

He softly said your name, making you look up, your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the light blue lighting of the tv.

“Can you show me where the bathroom is?” His eyes were soft looking at you almost apologetically.

“No yeah… I can hold on,” you moaned a bit stretching and sitting up. The boys below you stirred a bit for the sounds you made and you carefully tip-toed across them.

Peter followed close behind you, his chest almost touched your back but you didn’t really question it. The only thing you did question was how he asked where the bathroom was because of how often he’s here. You both rounded a corner and pointed at the door.

“Tell me if you need anything,” you yawned.

“Yeah thank you,” he whispered to you and closed the door. You decided to walk back carefully. You didn’t know if a couple of minutes passed because of how you fell in and out of sleep but you heard something that pulled you straight out of sleep. You rubbed your eyes a bit and that was when you heard it… your name. Your name was the one being softly called.

You got up and walked to the noise. It led you back to the bathroom. Groaning and moaning filled the halls making you shiver a bit.

“P- Peter??” It was met by silence. “Are you okay?” Still nothing.

It was until you heard some shuffling and flushing.

“Yeah I’m fine…“

“Peter, are you sure?”

It was in a flash and Peter was in front of you his lips touching yours.

You winced a bit from the counter digging into your lower back. You didn’t give it a second thought because you felt soft lips touching yours.

Your hands met Peter’s chest holding him, not knowing to push him away or to pull him closer. He lifted you onto the counter, hugging you close so that his lips never parted from you.

You gasped when you felt his hands rip down your shorts along with your underwear.

“You look so pretty,” Peter huffed into your neck.

You should’ve pushed him off and questioned his motives but you couldn’t. Your whole body was tingling from his touches. One of his hands went back to your heat. His fingers were circling your entrance causing you to do a slight whimper.

“Peter, what are you-“

He stuffed two fingers inside of you. The stretch from his fingers was melting you. They were thicker than yours and longer.

“You’re so tight,” he moaned grinning from ear to ear.

You were slumped against the sink, eyes tightly shut and fingers gripping the countertop.

You felt his lips graze your thighs. He gave them light pecks as he traveled to meet his fingers.

His lip’s immediately enveloped your clit. Sucking and licking that button until you were whining and whimpering. He slowed down a bit and smiled at you.

“I know how badly you want to make noise but you have to keep quiet though princess… you don’t want your brother to see how much of a slut you are, do you?”

You only shook your head causing him to chuckle a bit and stop.

“You have to use your words, princess.”

“No… I don’t want my brother to see,” you whispered but it sounded more like a moan leaving your lips.

“It wasn’t that hard was it?” He smiled up at you and went back to your clit.

His fingers continued their assault on you. You shook under his touches with the way he would switch his fingers and tongue. You felt like you were on fire.

You heard your name being called over and over again.

Wake up

Please!

"Please wake up!"

You heard your brother sobbing at your side, shaking you violently.

You shook awake. Your eyes flew open. You stared at your brother, tearing were in his eyes. You looked at the figure standing there holding a bloody knife. There was a dead body limp across from you.

“Guys… Run! RUN! RUN NOW!” You heard Ned scream. The killer was in front of you guys the knife in his gloved hands, bloody.

He didn’t have to tell you all twice. You ran out of the door your brother running to get to the keys.

"WAIT," you screamed towards your brother as Ned took your hand and started to run.

You both heard a scream. Coming for the house’s direction.

You both ran for what felt like a long time until you finally slowed down a bit.

“Ned… what the fuck are we going to do… I- I can’t go on,” you sobbed. You felt like your legs were giving out on you.

“I- I don’t know… we-“ Ned was cut short when he tripped over a log.

“Are- are you okay?” You gasped helping him up immediately.

Just then you both heard a snap of a twig. Causing Ned to scream. Harry was standing a few feet away from you both. A knife at his side.

You and Ned looked over at him. He was limping but still, somehow running.

“Harry, holy shit are you okay?” Ned gasped bringing his hands to his mouth and looking at him.

There was blood everywhere on him.

“Man… I- I didn’t even know… we need to get the fuck out of here and get the cops. It’s still a couple of miles away but if we run now we could get there,” Harry said. He held his side and blood seeping through his gray shirt.

“Harry, you need medical attention. We need to get that to stop bleeding,” you said, trembling a bit.

You all were standing there at one minute then screaming the next. Harry was wide-eyed and opened mouth. A knife through his skull. Blood spattered all over you and Ned.

You both started to run again only this time you were being chased by the masked figure.

Ned was the next one to go down. A blood-soaked gurgling was all that could be heard.

You sobbed into your sleeves shaking so hard as you ran. Your tears blinded you causing you to smack into something. The forest bed was damp beneath you, twigs stabbing into your back as you gulped for air.

You felt a pull at your hair and a rip of your clothes. You were pulled up against a tree. You could feel the mud below you soak your shirt and the tree bark digging into your head.

Your shirt was ripped down in half and your shorts were nowhere to be seen. You were left in your underwear. The masked figure, you could barely see from your minor concussion, sat there holding you down. You supposed he was staring at your body.

“Fuck…” you heard the figure say.

He pulled himself out of his pants and suddenly you felt the head of him slide against you. You wanted to shove him away but the strength was forced out of you when got knocked out.

You couldn’t stop shaking and trying to push him away to no avail. It continued like this until you felt webs on your hands and the tree bark scratching the back of your hands. You didn’t connect it sooner. Only ignoring everything as you stared at the sky, trying not to look down as he forced your legs to open wider. He was thick and veiny and felt heavy on your thighs.

“Please… don’t do this,” You sobbed. Your tears couldn’t stop from coming out.

“Princess it’s okay…” the masked figure pulled his mask away. Causing you to gasp at the view of him. Your eyes adjusted to him. Brown soft eyes staring down at you. You knew by the curly brown hair who it was.

It was Peter…

It was Peter Parker.

Sweet Peter…

Was the one in front of you right now.

Was the one who killed Harry and Ned.

And possibly your brother…

What you would give to see your brother right now. To have him help you get this boy off of you.

You hoped and hoped but he never came.

“Peter… please. I’m so sorry! I- I don’t know what we did or what I did but please forgive me,” you cried as he shushed you and rubbed your face. His thumb rubbing your bottom lip.

“Princess you didn’t do anything. I wanted this to be so special for you. But the guys got in the way…”

He didn’t make any sense as he rubbed his fingers over your mouth. You felt the sudden rip of your underwear and then the feel of them in your mouth.

“Fuck… you’re so precious…” he moaned into your ear causing you to cry out.

His lips covered your ear, nipping and licking at the lobe. He slid over you but not on purpose only because when he tried to force himself in. He moaned when the head of him slowly came inside. You could feel the air rip from your lungs.

You felt the swift push and stab in your entire bottom half. He entered fully you. It was like having a kick to your chest. The pain was what got you to scream out. Blood was rushing to your legs and face. You felt overheated even in the cold forest air.

You started to sob even more. You couldn’t stop shaking.

“Fuckkk… You’re a virgin?” He cooed. His hands were holding your face and his lips kissing your jaw.

You looked down and saw the blood that stained his cock. It made you cry out and shake. You never stopped shaking.

“Fuck I’m so sorry princess… but it will feel good I swear,” he moaned as he thrusts into you. His hips became mind-numbing harder and you couldn’t stop the whimpers and moans that left your lips.

“Please…” you cried so hard your face was swollen.

He took out the gag in your mouth. It immediately made you cough and cry harder. Drool soaked your face and your underwear.

“It hurts…” you whined. “Please! Peter get off.”

He only moaned when he fucked into you harder.

“I really wish I could… but you’re so tight it’s almost like you’re sucking me in.” His mouth with up against your ear again. You didn’t pay attention to those words only the feeling of his hips pounding into yours. The pain dulled a bit when he started to throw kisses down your neck.

It was messing with you the feel of his tongue on certain spots. It made your mind melt. You could feel the tree bark dig at your hands and wetness soaking it. You knew it could've been blood or something wet on the tree. You didn't want to think about it. You couldn't think about it. Not with the feel of him inside you pulling sounds out of you like it was almost nothing.

You heard him mumble something then the feel of his lips back on your ear.

“I’ve wanted you for the longest time… and if this was the only way to get you… then,” he chuckled. His hip ever so slightly slowing down a bit. It was as if he was trying to be gentle with you but even with his efforts it was still intense with the way his cock slid into you.

“Peter…”

You couldn’t stop crying. You could barely breathe. It was like you forgot how to breathe.

“I would do it again every time just for this sweet outcome,” he moaned when he thrust into a particular spot that had your toes curling and your vision blurring.

He smiled down at you fondly holding your face as he picked up his pace.

"Peter... please," you sobbed. Your hands were numb and your legs ached from being forcefully opened.

“Are you going to cum?" He groaned. "You can…,” he whispered. His thumb rubbed your lips before entering your mouth.

"Suck on it and you can cum."

Tears were nonstop and your face was wet and swollen. You could barely think. No thoughts at all forming, so you did what he asked. Sucking on his thumb until he was satisfied. You came around him in a cry.

"That's it, my sweet girl." He smiled at you, hips never slowing down once.

Your vision was blank. Your mind couldn't form coherent thoughts. One thing that wandered through your mind was the last thing he said.

His sweet girl…

No.

His thrusts never stopped. He fucked you roughly through your climax never stopping once. You squeezed your palms so tightly that it felt like blood was pooling in them from your nails.

“It’s okay breathe… I'll be done soon," he huffed. His cheeks were red and sweat droplets were running down his face.

"Is it okay if I finished inside of you?"

Your eyes went wide with horror. You needed to get him off of you. Your hands were tied and your legs were forced open by him. You tried to cut the web off with your nails to no avail. It was like all of your strength with forced out of you with his thrusts.

"Peter don't! Please!" you sobbed desperately trying to claw at the webs.

His thrusts got harder and faster again and a loud groan filled your ears. You felt the warmth as it entered you. You gasped unable to fully process what he did. Peter was hunched over you his lips sucking and kissing your neck. You were blank, too out of it to even respond to his kisses and apologies.

Peter… your sweet Peter had murdered his friends just to get to you.

Your sweet, lovable Peter had just raped you.

His fingers came back to your face slowly holding your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, princess…” he said softly. His hands made you face him. Your noses briefly touching.

“Peter… just let me go. Please.” You whispered as soft cries left you. “I won’t tell anyone I promise.”

His face softened, “No no, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry, baby.”

You wanted to hurt him so badly but your heart was breaking at the sight of his tears. You were so distraught and hurt. Your brother’s best friend that you’ve known for so long… had raped you.

You couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to hug him and apologize for making him cry but the urge to kill him with no remorse was pulsating through you.

He has used you in the worst way possible but you couldn’t push all those fond memories and feelings you’ve had with him.

You heard yelling and a lot of twigs snapping. Dogs were barking so loudly that it was as if the ground was shaking from it.

Help.

Help was coming.

Peter looked in the direction of the sounds before holding your face and kissing your lips as if it was like last time.

“I’m so sorry…” he whispered tears falling down his cheeks.

You didn't understand what he meant until you felt a sudden prick in your neck and you were out.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader

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hellfire-state-of-mind · 3 months

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can we stay here forever?

pairing: unspecified Pedro Pascal character (pick your favorite) x fem!reader (no name or physical description other than reader has boobs, have fun babes)

rating: M (just to be safe)

word count: 663

warnings: none? i think? just two people disgustingly in love (but lmk if i missed any and i'll add it here!!!)

a/n: this is my submission for @iamasaddie's moodboard writing challenege! i haven't written any fanfic since 2019 and i'd mostly decided to just give it up entirely but moodboards are my weakness and i just had to jump in. this is my first for the PPCU sooo please be nice, i'm a lil rusty (also 100% not proofed) 😅

It wasn’t until you met him that you realized just how…dull your life was.

Maybe dull isn’t the right word. There’s nothing wrong with predictability, stability, routine. You liked knowing what to expect day in and day out. Sure, sometimes you’d feel a need for more, this crack in your domestic facade. But something or someone would always come along to fill it, even if only for a moment. You were content.

But now? Watching the way his bare chest rises and falls. His mess of curls splayed out on the pillow beside you. The late morning sun spilling through sheer white curtains to highlight the curves of his arms, his nose, the tiny patches of skin peeking through his beard that you so love to press your lips to any chance you get.

Dull is replaced by familiar. Warm.

Home.

Days like this are a rare luxury and deeply treasured whenever they come along. Phones off, no need for alarms or scam phone calls about your car’s extended warranty. Only waking when your bodies physically can’t withstand the unconsciousness separating you any longer. The warmth of his arms around you contrasting with the chill in the room, sending static up and down your spine.

When you do finally rise from the tangled web of sheets binding the two of you together, there’s no rush. It’s a comfortable silence filled with jeans zipping, shoelaces tapping the floorboards, car keys jingling as he opens the passenger door for you.

He’s just as mesmerized as you. The way your eyes glow when the sun flashes across at just the right angle. The wind from the open window teasing your hair. Your laugh ringing out over the noise of the dirt road to nowhere. He turns off the truck in the shade of a tree and helps you out, never letting go of your hand as he guides you away. Thick fingers encompassing thin.

You finally find the perfect spot to rest and watch the sun disappear below the tree line and assume your positions from that morning. His bicep shielding your head from the hard ground, you just lay there on the grass discussing anything and everything that floats into your minds. Eventually, you notice he’s been quiet for a while. You peek over to see his eyes shut, lips slightly parted and drinking in slow, deep breaths.

“Is it your bedtime already?” you tease. He breaks out his signature boyish smile and chuckles from deep in his chest. Laughing along, you gently dip the tip of your finger into the dimple that appears on his left cheek before tracing up to the creases by his eyes. He turns into your touch, catching your hand and bringing it down to his lips, the soft hair accenting them tickling your palm. He gently rolls over you, gazing up in awe at his backlit silhouette and your knees drift open to allow him room to settle, blanketing you with his full weight. His focus is locked on you as his fingers caress your hip where your shirt has exposed the skin.

Your eyes drift shut as he kisses his way up your torso, your top riding up further and further as he progresses. He earns a hearty belly laugh when instead of pushing the soft cotton up above your breasts, he simply dives his head under it, nipping at your delicate skin and trailing his tongue down the valley between before ghosting his lips over your collarbone, your neck, your ear. Restrained by the fabric bunched around the back of his neck and your shoulders, unable to pull away, you finally pull him down to you. His arms wedge under you, pulling you flush to his chest. Together, you drown in each other’s touch, sound, taste, smell, willing time to just stop so you can stay here forever.

Most people call it “wasting the day away” except you, because time spent with him is never a waste.

#my writing #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #ppcu #pedrostories #✏️ game

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hearty-an0n · 3 months

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What Does “Rat Free” Alberta Actually Mean?

Aaron bell, Sergei Belski, Sergei Belski, Twitter/@TheAHL, Minas Panagiotakis, Bruce Bennett

#<3 #heartys webs #not my traditional kinda web weaving but decided to try my hand at this for the first time #matthew tkachuk #hockey poetry #calgary flames #florida panthers #?? idk what the tags are. I just got here.#was doing rat research and got a good idea 👍

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corvusspecialartist · 1 month

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Tree Hugger:

Mortarion was full of despair. After his current failure… after he was punished by the Grandfather… It was agony… His body could take much.. even before his transformation.. but the agonies bestowed on him… it was too much. He could take it, what was more… it was the show of the Grandfather's love. He had spared the rod for too long.. for it was his fault… He had tried to blame one of the Grandfather's sons.. but no matter. However, it wasn't until the cheery voice.. purred. "I know about it…. They will be disappointed to see you like this… all deformed and corrupted…" His heart sank, true the grandfather knew almost everything about diseases and plagues.. but he had tried to keep this precious thing secret. It was your soul, one of the truest and closest loves he had ever had. It was little rival… no. It was close to Nurgle's love as any. When he looked at the anchor… his physical pain seemed to fade, while his sorrow seemed to increase. It was one of the few clean things…while his quarters on his personal planet were similar… a stain of the Grandfather always seemed to remain. The Grandfather cackled. "How exactly did you think such a soul managed to get into my possession? It was almost anathema… not blessing the tree… and allowing you to have such pretty trinkets! You thought that you could keep secrets from me? Your beloved grandfather?! Now.. that deserves a fresh punishment…" Mortation could feel his primarch physiology change… his moth wings started to crack and break as the GrandFather's magic flowed through him… He felt the scorching heat as his wings started to fall..He cold feel sharp shooting pain underneath his arms… and immediately his stomach started to hurt. He doubled over and felt the acidic vomit come back up through his mask. He tried to take it off but found it glued to his face in a web of diseased skin. With the bile having no where to go, it started to burrow a hole though his neck.. In order to try and take the mind off of the pain… he tried to call up the rare memory before his ascension… to a new master. In the memory, he saw you… wearing in full hazard attire.. while he could withstand the area you were in… You turned to him holding up a small little tree. He thought of it strange… You purred to him. "This is like an old type of tree that could resist the biome type of Barbaurus…so I created something that could maybe survive this and produce fruit.. maybe it could filter out the gas and produce oxygen." He had scoffed at it at the time, seeing it as a foolish proclamation. Barbaurus had always been full of toxic gas, and the people there had lived short and miserable lives.. harvesting the grasses… and filtering the rare non polluted ground water. Barburiusans were a hearty people… so why change that? Now, as he looked at the tree.. and within his current sceneario.. He had to protect the tree… even when he first encountered and converted to the grandfather's cause… when all of the plants died.. it remained. The tree started to wither then.. as Mortarions agonies increased and then stopped. "Do not fail me again. Now…get out." Mortarion was back. He was within his personal quarters… he ran to the tree as fast as his blighted body would take him. The little tree looked the same..yet on closer inspection… there was a little bit on browning on the leaves.

#mortarion #primarch x reader #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #death guard #nurgle

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blushedfemme · 2 months

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now you have me thinking about all the ways i could find myself entangled in your pretty webs. put me to work until my muscles are exhausted and then rub my shoulders, get me stoned, fill me with a good meal until i’m too sleepy and pliable to notice you wrapping your silk around me

🪰

ohhh god oh my god this hit so many buttons for me you have no idea 🙈🙈😵‍💫

the thought of a butch doing some heavy manual labor as a favor to me, something dirty and requiring hours of toil, and once they’re finished i help them into a nice hot shower and soap up their sweaty body, scrub them down, rinse them off, wrap them in a fluffy warm towel and let them get into comfy clothes while i pack a bowl and prepare a nice hearty meal for them, and after smoking and eating they’re clean and warm and sated, their head pleasantly fuzzy. they’re not gonna fall asleep, they promise me with half-lidded eyes, and i smile and tell them of course not, but how about they just lay down in my cozy femme bed and let me massage them…. and barely five minutes into the massage they’ve fallen into a deep sleep, so deep they don’t even stir as i bind them up with soft silk scarves, ready for me to play with as soon as they wake up and realize their predicament

#clarke answers #🪰 anon #intox #intox tw #weed tw #somno #somno tw #dubcon tw

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edenspetals · 5 months

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𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕-𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒓

a strong arm loops your waist and your head flushes to a red-cladded chest as you listen to a speedy heartbeat that mimics your own. a shaky breath is all you exhales and in turn feel a reassuring squeeze around your body as one last swing of web brings you to safety atop a building.

there you are, the cold wind of the city fanning your face as you look upon your masked boyfriend. “do I get to see you?” comes your shaky breath. “o-or did I nearly fall to my death only to not see your face?”

with that, the tech mask dissipates, revealing a tender, smiling expression of maroon eyes and curly hair. with his arm still around you, the hero tugs you closer by the waist and he dips his head to ensure you see the truth in his hues.

“now,” his free hand raises, a cruxed-index finger tilting your head up. “I promised I’d never let you fall. I meant that.”

the reaffirmation of his vow makes you exhale and so you bring your head to rest on his shoulder while his hand cups the back of your head, fingers easing a massage upon your scalp.

“although. . .”

red-tinted lips flush to your ear. “I’m beginning to think you’re purposefully putting yourself in these situations just to be saved by the scarlet spider.”

your light smack to his chest sends his hearty laugh into the air and soon he’s intertwining your fingers in his before bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss to knuckles. “meant what I said, sundari. I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”

and so he hoists you closer. “ready to go home? think we need some hot chocolate and cuddles after that one.”

#— ꒰🥀꒱ 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐮𝐬 ៸៸ teaser ଓ.°#terato #monster oc #terato x reader #oc x reader #monster x reader #monster boyfriend x reader #monster boyfriend #spider monster #spider monster x reader #spider monster boyfriend

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mydearesthrry · 2 years

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blurb #1 — and then some universe

this little beauty came to mind at 6:30 in the morning so i hope u enjoy this tiny thing <3 …let me know if you want a full version ??

Y/n Y/l/n Answers the Web’s Most Searched Questions

“Right, last one. When do…” Y/n’s hair lays beautifully atop her head, hands pristine with her nails flawlessly scratching upon the board with a new gel set— courtesy of Gemma Styles, of course. “Y/n Y/l/n and Harry Styles get time alone?”

She snorts, quickly covering the bottom half of her face with her hand in short embarrassment. Her cheeks immediately pull into a sweet smile, an answer already bubbling in her mind.

“We don’t. It depends on what kind of… alone time you mean. ‘Cause…” She pauses, kissing her teeth, trying to find a way to answer this in a somewhat professional manner. “Alone alone time, we try to squeeze some in, whenever we can.” Y/n sends a knowing glance to the camera as well as a flirty wink, eyes flickering to the back area of it, knowing her boyfriend was in close proximity enough to hear what she said.

“However, alone time, we get whenever we check into a hotel. But as of right now, our alone alone time has been happening quite frequently due to days long pauses in between shows.” She giggles, in slight disbelief that she’s airing out some details of her and Harry’s sex life to the general public. She knew she was probably gonna get in trouble for this answer.

By her pr manager and Harry.

But did she care?

No, not really.

“Okay! Last and final board!” She’s handed a new board, nails tapping against it as she repositions herself on the chair. She rips off the tiny strip of paper before reading it. “Y/n Y/l/n,” She glances at the rest of the sentence before looking at the camera again in shock. “Hickies.”

Harry lets out a loud laugh at this, quickly being shushed by Jeff.

“Well, a couple of weeks ago, I was papped with a tanktop on, neck on full display. But in my defense, I was walking to my car so I deemed it safe enough to walk out vulnerable! I didn’t think anyone was gonna see his fuckin’ vampire bites!” She snickers, the entirety of the crew letting out hearty chuckles.

“Oi, y’hear these, Styles? Everyone’s obsessed with our sex life!” She smiles prettily, before soon after finishing the board and throwing it toward Harry who’s since moved closer and now stood a few feet to the right of the camera.

“Right, well I hope you nosy fuckers enjoyed this, be sure to watch my new film, Sweetener, in theatres everywhere right now! You can also catch me on the US leg of my friend Harry’s tour, Love On Tour! And if you liked this, like and subscribe to WIRED so I can come back and answer some more of your extremely inclusive questions! Bye!” She blows a kiss before the video turns black, leaving her boyfriend, and the rest of the internet, in a collective emotion of shock.

******

this was actually too fun to write even if shes a tiny one. i loved this sm maybe ill do a full one if yall like it enough :)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles social #harry styles smau #harry styles x y/n #famous!reader x harry styles #n then some universe 💐

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themorbidwriter · 4 months

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Rusty had left you alone in the truck as he walked into the gas station to grab a pack of cigarettes. You patiently waited for his return, but as time passed, you grew increasingly bored. Your eyes wandered to the radio sitting on the dashboard, thinking you could pass the time by listening to some music. Leaning forward, you switched it on, tuning the stations until you stumbled upon Metallica playing. A mischievous smirk curved on your lips, and you couldn't help but exclaim, "Fuck yeah!"

Lost in the music, you were lost in your own little world until you noticed Rusty approaching the truck. Frantically, you turned off the radio and hastily sank back into your seat, putting on a fake bored expression. The door opened, and Rusty climbed in, his gaze trying to figure out what you had been up to. However, he eventually brushed it off, and the truck door shut.

As Rusty turned on the ignition and drove out of the parking lot, he looked towards you and broke the silence, asking, "So, what did you do while I was gone?" Suddenly, words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, blurting, "Nothing!"

Rusty glanced at you, giving you a confused look. After a brief pause, he replied, "Okay?" Questioning your response, he seemed to let it go for the time being. However, as the truck continued to roll forward, Rusty reached out and turned on the radio once again.

The moment Metallica's thunderous tunes blared through the speakers, Rusty narrowed his eyes and turned to look at you. Realizing his suspicion, you quickly slid off the seat and onto the floor of the truck, seeking refuge in the engulfing darkness. Hoping to hide from his questioning gaze, you silently prayed he wouldn't notice you crouched on the floor.

You could feel his eyes scanning the truck, trying to locate your hiding spot. Your heart raced in your chest as you held your breath, desperately hoping he wouldn't discover your secret. The seconds felt like an eternity as you watched him turn the radio off the truck came to a sudden halt. The screeching of tires against the asphalt broke the silence.

In the blink of an eye, he was sliding out of his seat, smoothly gliding onto the floor of the truck. Unbeknownst to him, you slipped by his side without being noticed. As you slowly made your way towards the back of the truck Rusty's hand suddenly tightened around your leg. He had noticed your sly escape attempt. You struggled, trying your best to hold on and break free, but his strength was overwhelming.

With a hearty laugh, Rusty playfully said, "Come on, darlin', you're only gonna make it worse for yourself" His voice carried a hint of mischief, and a twinkle danced in his eyes.

Ignoring your quip, Rusty gave one last forceful jerk, pulling you back towards him. You stumbled, your body crashing against his as you lost your balance. The truck rattled with the sudden movement, and the sound resonated through the empty highway.

As you tried to regain your footing, Rusty swiftly flipped you over, maneuvering his body over yours. His strong arms pinned your wrists down firmly, preventing any further escape attempts. With a smirk that matched your own, he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. "You really thought you could outsmart me, huh?" he whispered in a low, seductive tone. The mischievous glint in his eyes intensified as he continued to hold you captive beneath him. Your breath hitched, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through your veins.

But instead of feeling alarmed, a rush of adrenaline fueled your senses. There was something electrifying in being caught in his web of playful dominance. As his lips grazed your neck, planting delicate kisses along the curve, your resistance slowly faded into a thrilling surrender.

His voice became huskier, filled with a blend of desire and amusement. "You know, I like it when you try to challenge me," he murmured, his lips teasingly brushing against your skin with each word. "But I always win in the end."

A shiver ran down your spine, igniting a fire within you. His words, combined with the raw intensity emanating from him, made it impossible to resist the stirring desire that surged between you. In that moment, the boundaries of the truck dissolved, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable connection that fueled your hidden desires.

You felt a surge of heat spread through your body as his words sent shivers down your spine. His dominance was both intimidating and alluring, and you found yourself falling deeper under his spell with each passing moment. As Rusty's lips moved lower, tracing the curve of your waist, you felt a sudden jolt of electricity course through your body. You gasped, arching your back as he continued to explore every inch of your skin with his lips and tongue.

His hands moved up your body, caressing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. You moaned loudly, your body writhing beneath him as he continued to explore every inch of you. Rusty's hands expertly unbuttoned your shirt, his lips moved to capture yours in a heated, passionate kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, igniting a wildfire of need within you. Your hands roamed his muscular body, feeling every ridge and curve, while his own hands pushed your shirt aside, exposing your bare skin to the cool air of the truck's cabin.

With a low growl, Rusty's lips left yours, trailing a path of kisses down your neck and collarbone. His tongue darted out to trace the curve of your breasts, causing waves of pleasure to ripple through every fiber of your being. You arched your back, craving more of his touch, as his lips closed around a hardened nipple, sucking and nipping gently.

You could feel your body trembling with anticipation as Rusty moved lower, his hands sliding beneath the waistband of your jeans. With a low groan, you lifted your hips, allowing him to pull your jeans down, revealing your bare bottom. Rusty's hands moved to cup your cheeks, pulling you closer to him as he continued to explore every inch of your skin with his lips and tongue. You moaned loudly, writhing beneath him as he continued to tease and tantalize you.

Rusty's hands moved up your body, pulling you closer to him as he continued to devour you with his mouth. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he took you completely. With a low growl, Rusty pulled away from your body, his eyes locking onto yours. There was a fierce intensity in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat. "Are you ready for this?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

You nodded eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation. Rusty's hands moved back down to your jeans, pulling them off completely. You lifted your hips, allowing him to slide your panties down as well. You were completely naked now, exposed and vulnerable to his every touch.

Rusty's lips moved back up your body, trailing kisses along your inner thighs. You moaned loudly, writhing beneath him as he continued to explore every inch of you. His fingers moved between your legs, teasing and tantalizing you until you were on the brink of ecstasy.

With a low growl, Rusty pushed himself inside you, filling you completely. You cried out in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as he began to move inside you. His hands moved to cup your breasts, pulling and teasing them gently as he continued to move inside you.

You could feel your body trembling with pleasure as Rusty's movements grew more intense. He pounded into you with a fierce intensity, his lips moving back up to capture yours in a heated, passionate kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, igniting a wildfire of need within you.

As Rusty's movements grew more frenzied, you knew that you were close to the edge. With a low cry, you reached the peak of pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as he continued to move inside you. As you reached the brink of ecstasy, Rusty suddenly withdrew from your body. You let out a small whine of protest as you looked up at him, confusion and frustration etched on your face. "Why did you do that?" you asked, your voice tinged with disappointment.

Rusty simply smirked and reached behind his ear to retrieve a cigarette. As he lit it, he said, "You want to cum? Don't touch my fucking radio." You glared at him, feeling a mix of anger and arousal. "Fuck your radio fucking son of a teasing ass bitch" you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

Rusty chuckled and took a drag of his cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're mine, darlin', and I'll do whatever I want with you. But if you want to cum, you better learn to respect my rules." You huffed in indignation but couldn't deny the craving that still pulsed through your veins. The allure of Rusty's dominance was too powerful to resist. "Fuck your rules too" you grumbled, feeling a mixture of frustration and anticipation.

Rusty's eyes twinkled with amusement as he watched your conflicting emotions play out on your face. He knew he had you exactly where he wanted you. "Then we'll just have to see how long you can hold out," he said, taking another drag of his cigarette. As a thought crossed your mind, a mischievous smirk crept across your lips. "You know what, Rusty?" you whispered, amusement lacing your voice. "That's okay. Do you know why?"

With a tantalizing pause, you continued, "Because I can easily get into the sleeper and finish the job very quickly. My unfinished pleasure will go away." The words dripped with a chilling confidence, carrying a sense of authority and control. "But can yours, Rusty?" you taunted, your tone filled with dark amusement. "Can you get your fucking unfinished pleasure to go away?" Your voice carried a mix of curiosity and contempt

Rusty's eyes narrowed in response to your challenge, a hint of danger lurking in his gaze. "We'll see about that," he growled, his voice low and menacing. He took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours. With a playful gleam in your eyes, you noticed his skeptical expression. "Oh, you don't believe I'll do it, huh?" you said, your voice bubbling with laughter. You couldn't help but be amused by his doubt.

Rusty's eyes flickered with a mix of anger and intrigue as he regarded you with a calculating stare. "I'll believe it when I see it," he said, his voice laced with a hint of challenge. As you stood up from the floor of the truck, Rusty with a mischievous glint in his eye, watched you with a smirk playing on his lips. You could almost sense his expectation, assuming that you would slide onto his lap and make him finish the job.

But you had something else in mind. Reaching for your purse, you could feel Rusty's eyes following your every move. His curiosity piqued, he leaned back in the driver's seat, waiting to see what you would unveil. With a mischievous smile, you pulled out a small vibrator from your bag, its sleek design glinting in the dim interior of the truck cabin. Waving it in the air, you locked eyes with Rusty, who frowned, clearly taken aback by your bold choice of plaything. Silently challenging him, you turned around and proceeded to slip into the sleeper of the truck. As you settled comfortably on the cozy mattress you could feel Rusty's gaze burning into your back, his curiosity and anticipation growing by the second. With a seductive grin you pulled the curtains shut adding insult to injury.

He sat back in the driver's seat, growling under his breath as he muttered to himself. "She fucking wouldn't," he grumbled, his frustration evident in his tone. Just as he thought he could finally catch a break, the sound of a vibrator filled the air. Rusty leaned back in his seat, letting out a deep groan as he heard the familiar buzzing sound. Rusty couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions – anger, arousal, and frustration – as he listened to your moans coming from the cab. It was a literal slap in the face. As much as he tried to tune out the sounds, he found himself unable to resist the temptation. He reached down and rubbed his bulge, the vibrations from the toy making his own arousal grow even more intense.

As the minutes passed, the anticipation and tension only grew. Rusty could feel his control slipping away, his anger turning into an insatiable desire. He wanted to know what you were doing, how you were using that toy to bring yourself pleasure. He even thought about pulling over and watching you through the rear view mirror, but he knew he couldn't risk getting caught. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel tightly and tried to distract himself with thoughts of anything but the pleasurable sounds coming from behind him.

But it was useless. His body was betraying him, his own arousal reaching its peak as he heard you reach yours. He could practically feel the waves of pleasure coming from you, and it only intensified his own need. He wanted to be the one bringing you to those heights, not some toy it was driving him crazy. This was consuming him, making him feel like he was losing control. He wanted to be the one giving you that pleasure, not just listening to it from a distance. He wanted to see you, feel you, touch you. The thought of you in pleasure, because of him, was driving him wild. Finally, the sound of the vibrator stopped, and Rusty let out a sigh of relief mixed with frustration. He couldn't handle another minute of this torture.

Rusty crawled into the sleeper with you. As he watched you, his eyes gleamed with mischief and a mischievous grin formed on his lips. "Are you done being a brat with the vibrator now?" he asked, teasingly. You immediately curled up in a ball, pretending to ignore his question. But Rusty was not one to let things go easily. He slid in between your legs, his gaze never leaving you. You couldn't help but wrap your legs around his waist, feeling his warmth against your skin. "Rusty, I'm tired" you murmured, trying to put an end to the teasing. But Rusty just grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, you should have thought about that before you fucking teased me" he retorted.

"Well, you fucking started it" you say through gritted teeth, your frustration and need getting the best of you. It was a game of push and pull between the two of you, each one trying to gain control and dominance over the other. But in the end, it always led to moments like this, where nothing else mattered except for the both of you and the desire that burned between you. But this time, Rusty had a plan. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I'm going to make you beg for me" he said, his voice low and seductive.

And before you could say anything, he was already kissing you, his lips soft and demanding. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and soon enough, you were moaning and writhing beneath him. But Rusty wasn't satisfied yet. He wanted to make you lose control, to make you scream his name. He moved down your body, his mouth leaving a trail of hot kisses and bites. And when he finally reached your core, he didn't hold back. With his talented tongue and fingers, he brought you to the brink of ecstasy, and just when you were about to go over the edge, he stopped. "Rusty, please" you begged, your voice desperate and needy.

But he just grinned, enjoying the power he had over you. "Say my name" he whispered, his eyes locking with yours. "Rusty" you moaned, and that was all it took for him to give you what you wanted. He continued to pleasure you until you were a trembling mess, completely under his control. But then he flipped you onto your hands and knees, and the game started all over again. With each thrust, he drove you closer and closer to the edge, and just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he slowed down. You writhed and squirmed, trying to get him to move faster, but he was in charge. And finally, when the desire was too much to bear, he pounded into you, both of you reaching your climax at the same time. As you lay there, your bodies tangled and your breathing heavy you couldn't help but smile at the thought of how good he made you feel.

#joy ride #rusty nail #rusty nail x reader

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emilykaldwen · 1 month

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The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Three

Rating: Explicit Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen

Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

no tag list. please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications for updates or subscribe on AO3

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Chapter One | Chapter Two

CHAPTER THREE - SORROW IN IDLE MIND

Aemond is the most put upon person in the entire history of Westeros. Aegon is the most navel gazing, half drunk prince to ever hold the title. Alyn Hull is just here for figs and a good time.

Traipsing through the narrow, winding alleyways of the Street of Silk was not how Aemond Targaryen wanted to spend this evening. Nay, this was not how he wanted to spend any evening. He mourned the cloak he wore, for he was certain that amidst the cloying scents of perfume and incense, and of the sour of human stink beneath, he’d never get the evidence out.

He wished for the quiet comforts of mother’s solar with a thick tome upon his lap as he read aloud to Mother and Helaena as they sewed. Better yet were the times when he could retreat to Helaena’s room and read only to her. She would card her fingers through his hair, brush and braid the long strands back as she always had. Other times, she’d lean into his side, soft and warm and smelling of the peppermint tea she always drank before bed. Her long curls would tickle against his neck where her head tucked perfectly, like it belonged there, on his shoulder. Aemond would adjust the warm blanket over their laps to ensure she was cozy. The book would span across them both and he would wrap an arm about her, fingers playing with her beautiful hair.

He’d read stories of the lands beyond. The tales of djinn promising wishes and sphinx spinning riddles from the furthest parts of the Essosi continent. The monstrous woman with half a snake body, and hair made of living vipers from the Basilisk Isles, would always draw gasps when he’d describe the garden of stone heroes the monster made. Helaena would gasp at all the appropriate places, look at him with wide eyes and would ask, “Do they make it out alive?” He’d brush a soft, reassuring kiss to the crown of her head and with a grin, tell her to listen.

They’d read into the night, and then when it was time for bed, Aemond would relish the sleepy kiss he’d receive, chaste and innocent, and still able to make him flush. “Goodnight, dear brother,” Helaena would murmur and he’d eagerly press a kiss to the warmth of her palm, over the lifeline, the blood they shared thrumming beneath.

Dear brother, she always said with such love and reassurance; such care and surety that he was her dearest brother, her favorite brother.

“Goodnight, my sweet Helaena,” he would tell her before floating his way back to his own bed.

Instead of all those pleasant options, he was left grimacing as a patron from the tavern they were passing expelled the contents of his stomach all over the cobblestones. His brother called his name with obvious exasperation.

“Uncivilized,” Aemond muttered, and narrowly avoided pitching forward into the mess when Aegon’s hand grabbed his shoulder and hauled him up between him and Alyn Hull, who clapped him on the back with a hearty laugh.

The smile that Aegon gave was not a jovial one, although the drinks he had at the previous tavern made him less sullen and more focused, more intent on forgetting; running as far as he could in another direction. Though not so unusual for Aegon, the lone man in his brown robe and bare feet on the corner beseeching men to return home to the loving embrace of their wives had turned Aegon’s frantic need to flee into something darker when his gaze turned inward.

Aemond saw nothing wrong with what the man said. After all, he wanted nothing more than to return to the warm fire and loving embrace of his wife.

“Gellys!” Aegon called and Aemond immediately tried to hide behind the elder boys at the woman in the doorway. “A room for us! Best Arbor you’ve got. Some Dornish as well.”

“Milord,” Gellys drawled with that familiar smile - the one burnt on the backs of his eyelids - knowing better than to address the one before her as Prince. “We’re happy to serve.” Eyes swept over the trio and Aemond tilted his head down enough that his hood made it more difficult to see, yet it did little. “And you’ve brought this sweet one again! How lovely. Bess, the usual for his Lordship.”

The brothel had changed little since Aegon had dragged him here for his nameday nearly two years ago. The tapestries which draped the sandstone walls were not so dissimilar to the ones his mother had moved into the gallery back in the Red Keep. It portrayed men and women in acts of carnality and some kind of sexual acrobatics. The acts portrayed were ones that Aemond is not so certain of, but he’d rather study the ones back at the castle and not amidst the ribald laughter that clashes with the music. Aemond was sure that beneath the flicker and shadow of the torchlight, they were littered with worn spots and moth-eaten edges.

Heleana would know the kind that dwelled amid the fabrics and he wondered if he might find a dead one to bring back to her. Something good could at least come from this ridiculous adventure.

Laughter and gentle music permeated the first floor, and Aemond was grateful to be here and not in the boisterous racket of the last tavern they’d been kicked out of.

A sandy-haired bard, pug nosed and red-faced, strummed his lute with a flourish. Along with his three minstrels behind him, also clad in various clashing frocks, the four held court along the far end of the room while women flitted between light and shadow to entertain the men. Aemond thought he also spied a few feminine patrons as well, among the settees and tables, surrounded by a variable spread of fruits, wines, meats, and cheeses.

Another yank on his shoulder by Aegon’s hand hauled him towards the staircase, and his stomach lurched with the unpleasant memories of the last time he was in this place.

It’s different this time, Aemond reminded himself while being jostled up the stairs, following his brother’s silver head, Hull bringing up the rear. He did not need to ‘wet his wick’ on this particular sojourn into The Pearl and Oyster; instead he was here to make sure that Aegon did not end up going too far off the drunken path. And as little as he paid Alyn any mind, Aemond knew that the elder boy would also ensure that Aegon did not end up dead in the river or with a knife between his ribs.

Why was this a concern now? Aegon had frolicked about Flea Bottom for years. Not even three moons ago, his brother was dragged back to the Holdfast with a split lip and double black eyes from his broken nose by two broad Gold Cloaks who’d pulled him spitting and scratching from a tavern brawl.

He gave his brother credit where it was due. Though Ser Criston taught him how to wield a blade, Aegon taught him how to throw a proper punch.

‘Blades are good for when you have them, but in a pinch, use everything you have’, Aegon had said as he whipped the apple he’d been eating with surprising accuracy straight at his forehead.

It had hit hard enough to momentarily daze him, but luckily no one was around to see.

Wariness kept Aemond from immediately divesting himself of the cloak when they entered the room on the third floor. A roaring hearth was set along the outside wall and the primary source of light for what Aemond assumed was some attempt at ambience. Swaths of dusty, crimson fabric wound through the rafters and draped down to give the illusion of some Dornish pleasure tent and not a private room of a brothel in King’s Landing. A thick rug, far too fine for an establishment like this, muffled their footsteps as they crossed the room. Woven strands of scarlet and cream, embellishments in gold etched a design that would not be too out of place in his sire’s room.

Past further drapes of fabric, Aemond could see an enormous bed in the corner. His stomach twisted uncomfortably with nerves that barely eased at the reassuring sight of his companions taking to the table by the hearth and no women bursting from behind the fabric like shrieking ghosts in the night.

When Aegon and Alyn weren’t looking, Aemond tugged aside a drape to confirm that there were none silent and hiding - assassins or whores or some secret, third option that was just as unwelcome, if undefined.

It wasn't long before a stream of women and girls arrived, bearing plates of simple fare to go with the bottles of wine bearing the marks of familiar orchards of the Arbor and the Dornish sun, and a bottle of what he was certain to be a golden vintage from the Jade Sea - the kind his sire ordered to be served only in the company of the most important foreign dignitaries.

There were young girls with downcast eyes and soft blonde curls, women with bold gazes and plump red lips, ones with Lyseni features and hair that glowed in the firelight - though nowhere as fair or pure as his Helaena. Brunettes with messy curls and giggles batted their eyes at him. A pair of raven haired twins with lilac eyes and hair shorn to their bared shoulders brought up the rear.

Alyn already claimed the twins before they even finished setting their plates of meats and fruits on the scarred wood, giggling as he pulled them in. Aegon’s half-sullen, half-hungry expression gave way to heavy-lidded eyes as a buxom brunette carded her fingers through his hair.

Aemond wondered if this was the best the brothel had to offer, for they were perhaps pretty at most, but none truly stood out. He skirted away from the curious hand of the Lyseni and narrowly avoided bumping into a little redhead swerving around him with a quiet, “Excuse me, m’lord.” Young, and pale, with straight hair, she cut a path between the other whores and set a platter of figs and dates before his brother.

The scrape of the platter against the wood drew Aegon’s eyes from watching the woman who was crooning to him up to the new arrival. His eyes opened slowly, a frown pinching at his face, and Aemond watched his brother’s hands flex against the edge of the trestle. In a fascinating display, Aegon lifted a hand to reach for a lock of that red hair, eyes glazed and face flushed deeper.

“Aye, this is one of our new girls. We thought she might be to your liking, m’lord.” A laugh shook from her, breasts jiggling close to Aegon’s head but his brother didn’t even turn to look. Instead, whatever spell overtook his brother shattered and the hand that was reaching out for the girl’s red hair smacked on the table.

“Out!” he roared at the assembled women. The redhead gave a yelp of fright and stumbled back, toppling over a chair as the brunette crooner came to get her up off the floor. It was difficult to tell what fed Aegon’s angry outburst more: the mess she left in her wake, or the mere presence of her. “Get the fuck out!”

Alyn looked stunned. The whores about them looked stunned. Aemond was stunned.

Aegon’s jaw clenched as he rose to his feet. His brother was not a large man, not like their grandfather who looked above all, but the fury on his brother’s face ignited a flame of unease in his gut. Out of the pair of them, Aegon was, strangely enough, not the one most prone to outburst especially without an obvious reason for it. “If I have to tell you again, there won’t be any money for you to share tonight. Get out!”

The room fell quiet as the door slammed shut behind the girls. Aemond slowly took off his cloak and looked at Alyn, who met his gaze with confusion and then something like dawning realization. Aegon ignored them both, pulling over one of the Dornish bottles to fill his goblet.

“For fuck’s sake, Aeg-”

“Don’t you start with me, Hull.” A pause and then Aegon reached to his right side, grabbing the chair and sliding it out. “Aemond, sit your pissy ass down and eat something. Mother’ll have me locked up should I bring you home in a cart faint from hunger.” He took a large swallow of his third cup of wine that night, garnet liquid dripping along his chin like blood and staining the old linen tunic and along his pale chest, revealed from where the laces were undone.

Alyn shifted in his chair, striking with the way his freckles stood out along his darker skin with the silver twists of his hair leaving his expression clear. Aemond met his gaze as he took the chair his brother offered. Alyn did not have purple eyes - his were a vivid jade color, but he looked far more Velaryon than his own nephews. Aemond reached a hand up to adjust his new eyepatch. He ran his thumb along the strap, where he could feel the embroidery in the leather that Helaena had worked so hard on for her dearest, favorite brother.

Aemond tried not to sigh. He would not get his goodnight kisses tonight.

A sharp kick hit his shin and Aemond gave a startled, “ow!” Indignant and annoyed, he focused back on Alyn who raised his brows with the clear look of what in the name of the Seven is going on with your brother?

What wasn’t going on with Aegon?

They both looked back at the man in question, who was tearing into a fig with his glowering expression and greedy fingers. Aemond’s stomach growled, and he grabbed one for himself before his brother could devour them all. He sniffed it first, unsure about trusting brothel food, but it smelled of warm honey. Biting into it, the taste of apple and strawberry burst on his tongue. Alyn was helping himself to one of the dried meats on another platter. It was a higher fare than Aemond had expected, but the relative cleanliness of the room belied the money that lined the pockets of the one who owned the place. At least Aegon hadn’t dragged them to something filthy and (obviously) flea ridden.

He recalled the first and only time his brother had brought him to a brothel. This very one. It was a different room, him alone with that Gellys woman who kept pestering him about the type of girls he liked, or if he’d ever touched himself. She’d brought in a Lyseni girl, young but still older than him. She had a sweet face, and for a moment he wondered if he could just pretend to get through the night.

Instead, she listened rather sweetly while he spoke of saving his sister from the unwanted betrothal with Aegon. His brother had not relished in the duty, but Aemond did. He had a dragon now, Vhagar, the largest and oldest of all of them. It was with his dragon, he explained to the Lyseni girl, that he had enough power to storm in and break up this farce of a betrothal, And they listened to him. Helaena was ever so grateful about it, charmed, and touched, and gave him a kiss on the cheek and called him her gallant knight. She didn’t even protest when he told her they would be married instead. Helaena had only hummed in her little agreeable way while mother tried to protest that they shouldn’t be too hasty. Aemond did not share that marrying Helaena, riding Vhagar, and having his mother acquiesce to his demands, might even mean that he would be who they wanted to make heir. Of course their father wouldn’t put Aegon on the throne over their eldest sister. But Aemond? Aemond rode his grandsire Baelon’s dragon, and he’d marry his sister, and he had started to outpaced Aegon in the training yard.

Aemond had proven them all wrong. They had laughed and gave him a pig, and he’d gotten Vhagar.

He was grateful Aegon was disinterested in throwing women at him this time, let alone in taking any for himself. He could at least sit here and eat decent finger foods and wait for his brother to either pass out from drinking or give up and head home.

“Did you get called into the tower as well today?” Aemond ventured in ill-disguised casualness, reaching for a piece of cheese this time. He didn’t meet Alyn’s curious gaze, for both of them were watching Aegon refill his goblet already.

A grunt was all the answer he supplied.

“What got you pulled into that old fucker’s room?”

Another grunt and a roll of his eyes. “Not blamed for once,” he muttered. “Just bullshit.”

How taciturn. Aemond shifted in his chair, and carefully offered, “You know, Abrogail got pulled into his office as well. He came to Helaena’s room himself to retrieve her.” Aegon’s flushed face reddened more, pink eyes narrowing over his goblet he held to his mouth but did not drink from.

Aemond pursed his lips and thought of the scene in the gardens earlier. Abrogail came back from their grandfather’s office far quieter than usual before so harshly snapping at his sweet Helaena and squashing one of her bugs. At the moment, Aemond had been rageful at the behavior, for his Helaena didn’t deserve that. But hours later, he had realized that, mayhaps, he’d been a little harsher than he ought to have been. He would not apologize, of course, but Helaena was always getting on him about his temper. It had been rather unusual for his cousin. He could not recall the last time she spoke so angrily that wasn’t caused by someone doing something reckless in the training yard - however that was far more mother hen than annoyed and snappy.

“Abrogail?” Alyn rolled her name around his mouth and drew it out in a tease. “And here I thought it was simply wine not getting your cock up. But Abrogail, hm? All of that yelling over some red hair?” A lazy shrug, dagger stabbing into a piece of meat before him. “Makes sense now.”

“I told you not to start,” Aegon warned once more before taking another mouthful of the Arbor red. His eyes were dark, a smirk slashing across his soft face. “Came to Helaena’s room himself, you say? Spend the night, little brother? Has our sweet sister finally let you beneath her skirts or did you creep in again even though Mother forbade it?”

Aemond felt his cheeks color, and he slapped his hand on the table. “Don’t talk about her like that.” A deep breath, the way his book from Bravos recommended. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Center. Stay within the moment. Aegon’s eyes were slicing through him, as if he could peel back the layers of skin and see what lay beneath. A gaze even more dangerous, given his brother’s dance into the land of inebriation, but Aemond simply continued. “Abby got upset with us. Her eyes were red. It looked like she’d been crying.”

His brother made a sound and took another swallow. Alyn caught his gaze again and pinned him there until Aemond gave a slight nod, confirming that this was what in seven hells was going on. Whatever had happened in their grandfather’s office, whatever had his cousin crying and Aegon ready to bite everyone’s head off like Helaena’s pet mantis.

“Both of you pulled into the old Tower’s office this morning? Maybe it’s less about those two-” Alyn waved a negligent hand towards Aemond. “And more about, say, you finally getting under your little Maiden Marchpane’s skirts?” A laugh and the bastard Velaryon snagged up the Arbor red and pulled the cork with his teeth and spat it out towards the fire. “Then you what? Left her before sunrise covered in-”

“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that!” Aegon lifted the plate of figs and flung it across the table, sending the fruit scattering and the plate clipping off of Alyn’s surprised shoulder to shatter against the hearthstones. Aemond’s single eye widened, and he pressed back in his chair even though the trajectory was nowhere near him. “I didn’t fucking touch her.” The hand that flung the plate still hung in the air, trembling as his brother loomed over the table. He lacked any sort of threatening implement but Alyn raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. “I didn’t lay a hand on her. I wouldn’t. I never do.” Defensive, as was Aegon’s nature. Defensive in the face of accusations that were true. Except for once, Aemond thought, phantom pain lancing through his face. Except for maybe now.

“Well, you mope about her enough. Fuck me, no wonder you got so worked up over the redhead. So what happened, hm? Did she accuse you of something? Did they say no more rides on the back of that dragon of yours?” A smirk at the double entendre, but he raised his hands in surrender before Aegon could throw something else.

Silvery hair, limp with sweat, fell into Aegon’s eyes as he shook his head. “No, nothing like that.” He raised his goblet for another drink and collapsed back in the chair, slouched and melancholy in the worst of ways. Aemond tried not to roll his eye again at the display of dramatics. “Worse.”

Aemond’s brow furrowed. “Worse?” he asked, confused. Dramatic, yes, but he also wanted to know what had happened.

A log in the grate popped and cracked from the heat as conversation fell silent. The brothel outside the door continued to bustle. There was the distant shriek and laughter of someone down the hall, but no sounds of violence. Aegon was staring into his drink as if it held all the answers he could ever need. Aemond supposed that wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. His brother had gone to drink before anything else for years now. This wouldn’t be any different.

“They brought us up to go over all the missives asking for her hand,” he finally said. Aemond strained to hear him and Alyn leaned forward in his curiosity. “Had an entire basket of scrolls wanting the heir of Harrenhal. Mother was there, and her dog, who said nothing regarding his sister.” Aegon made a face and shook his head. “I’m marrying Abrogail.”

That wasn’t what Aemond expected. “Is that why she looked like she was crying when she came back to the gardens-”

“Yes, yes, that’s exactly fucking why,” Aegon hissed through his teeth and pelted him with one of the figs scattered on the scarred tabletop. It bounced off Aemond’s chest and rolled across the table where Alyn snatched it up. “Told her to be fucking grateful, stop lying about - it doesn’t matter. Made her cry, and she best get used to it.”

“Then why the hell are you complaining about it?” Alyn asked with a shake of his head. “Aeg, you’ve panted after her for years, now here she is. You don’t have to marry your weird sister, you get to bed someone you actually like. Sounds as if for once, Tower’s done right by you. What are you so fucking upset about? That you weren’t the only choice? You’re a jealous prick, you know-”

“Done right by me?” Aegon raged, his hand holding the cup gesturing out and splashing arbor red up his wrist and across the floor. He hissed and shoved at his sleeve, where deep red scratches stood out against his pale wrist.

Alyn looked at him with an almost bored expression. “They’ve given you a cherry ripe wife-”

“No, you fucking cunt, they gave me the fucking Maiden!” Clay and wine smashed against the wall as he flung it at his friend’s head and missed this time. “The last uncorrupted, perfect thing left in my life.” A stabbing finger punctuated each point, and the resemblance to the angry, spitting rage their father rarely showed was never more pronounced. “The last one who doesn’t look at me like they wish I were someone, anyone else. They give her in all that innocent glory on a fucking gold platter-”

Alyn bit into a date. “And you made her cry.”

“And I made her fucking cry!” Aegon’s sharp bark of laughter held the familiar, manic edge and it rang in Aemond’s ears. Tears spilled down Aegon’s face amidst it. Sad. Pathetic. The self-loathing in his brother’s face made him feel sick and uncomfortable, and Aemond said nothing, couldn’t find anything to say and left it for Alyn to navigate for the time being. “I’ve never fucking touched her ‘cause I… I can’t ruin her. I won’t. Get her sick with whatever the fuck is wrong with me. No. No, and you know what’s worse?”

“The others-” Alyn began patiently, prising open the fig.

“The fucking others! Bastard had a whole bloody basket filled with little more than filth not worth to look upon her, wanting to shove their cocks in her till she breaks giving them their muddy fucking brats.”

“But you wouldn’t break her.”

“I wouldn’t! Not unless she asked me to, and I’d make it so good for her. But no, she’d burn me as soon as I touched her. Too unclean to fuck her, get her belly full of me.” Aegon groaned and collapsed into his chair, palm on his chest. “She’d burn me and I’d sing her praises. Burn my filthy damned soul just to touch her, Alyn.”

Aemond did his best not to sigh, warring feelings of relief and annoyance that Aegon’s focus was on the baseborn Velaryon across the table.

On the one hand, he didn’t mind that his brother was mostly leaving him alone. Aegon knew he was only here because of their mother’s insistence on Aemond being his brother’s keeper. While he’d rather be anywhere but here, Aegon wasn’t poking at him or trying to get much of a rise.

On the other, every time Alyn Hull opened his mouth, every time the two silver-haired miscreants shared a laugh over some inside joke, Aemond wanted to scream. They spoke with easy familiarity to annoyed tavern keepers, and every time Alyn showed how close he was to Aegon, it burned something in the pit of his stomach.

He was used to jealousy since the day he could understand his place among his siblings. He was used to the jealous feeling that he would not be Aegon, had grown used to the jealousy that Helaena had been born for Aegon and not him. It was only with the breaking of the betrothal that Aemond felt a cooling of his blood towards his brother. However, now in the face of his so-called friendship with the bastard, it reignited. Aemond still felt awkward speaking up or inserting himself into the conversation, and both of them included him to a minimal degree.

Yet, Alyn was waving a hand at Aegon’s dramatics, and while Aemond also felt annoyed at it, he knew there was more. Aegon was snappish, perpetually amused, arrogant in the way of dragonriders, and thus closer to being a god.

His brother was moody and glassy eyed, flinching whenever their mother raised her voice or moved too quickly with wild gesturing. He became wide eyed like a little child whenever Ser Criston praised him in the yard, preening beneath the encouragement. Whenever Abrogail laughed in that bright and honest way of hers at one of Aegon’s dumb jokes, Aegon looked like he’d sprouted his own pair of wings to hover above the ground. She always laughed at his jokes. Every stupid one. She always had an encouraging word for him, for all of them, but he saw the way Aegon’s shoulders would straighten, the pink on his cheeks ill disguised.

It had been like that for as long as he could remember. For as long as there was the jealousy that he was not the eldest, that Helaena was not born for him, that Aegon had a bond with a dragon so innate that no matter how much of a disappointment he was, it seemed to be the only thing truly good about him.

Aemond had thrown him into their father’s jaws, and though surprised, Aegon didn’t even flinch. Aegon had stood stoic in front of the fire and without hesitation, had spoken the truth to their father’s face, to everyone’s face.

Alyn Hull would never have Aegon stand before their gathered family and protect him, them, and their mother. Aegon would for Aemond, and so Aemond would do his best to help.

He had the most relationship experience out of everyone here. Him and Helaena were practically married already, regardless of mother’s insistence on finding him a Baratheon marriage. Confident in his unique qualification for such a moment, Aemond would rise to the task the way their grandsire did. A true Hand, when his brother needed one most.

“Did you mean to make her cry?” Aemond broke the silence that had descended with his carefully worded question, and Aegon’s pink eyes, glossy and red from drink and the tears that threatened, gazed incredulously back through the strands of his silver hair. “You can be an idiot and careless, but you’ve never been cruel to her.”

Aegon had been plenty cruel to him and Helaena, the trio of them rolling in the dirt or knocking over side tables with the bites they took out of one another. Abrogail was different; she may have grown up with them and shared blood, but she wasn’t their sibling, rather, an innocent bystander to the theatrics of his family.

Alyn looked as if he might try to catch his eye but Aemond did not grace him with a return look. Hull needed to learn his place, and be reminded that he was Aegon’s brother, and knew him best.

“Skoros mōris aōhys issa, valonqus?” Aegon’s tone was flat and sullen and did a poor job of masking his wariness. His shoulders shifted quickly straight to the way he held them when Mother would broach the subject of Aegon’s doing better and Aegon’s acting more princely and Aegon’s doing anything but being Aegon.

What is your point, little brother?

What is your end, little brother?

Fuck, Aemond thought, fingers tapping on the edge of the table. Aegon never used their mother tongue, and only did so in the most dire, dangerous moments. He’d have to tread lightly.

“Have you bothered to ask her?” Aemond tried a different approach. Surely, his brother couldn’t know her inner thoughts without asking and the obviousness of such a thing shouldn’t stoke his brother’s ire. He was never certain of Helaena’s mind until he asked, and they were twin flames who rode the eldest dragons. Two halves of a heart like those songs that she so enjoyed.

It was foolish of Aegon to think he knew Abrogail’s mind, but luckily, he was here to offer guidance.

Aegon pointedly ignored him, turning his glare to Alyn. The older boy chuckled, “What? He’s right.” Alyn muttered something but he couldn’t hear. It did not truly matter.

Aemond continued, emboldened by the agreement, “Only, when Helaena and I argue -”

Aegon let out a laugh, his usual nervous idiocy replaced with a cackle and still with that mad sounding edge. “When you and Helaena argue? You, Mother’s Holy Voice of Reason? Dreamy little Helaena and her kingdom of bugs? Arguing?”

Dreamy little Helaena had left a scar on Aegon’s forearm from when she’d bitten him so hard she drew blood when they were young, but Aegon’s memory had been dodgy of late. Even in his growing annoyance and the heated flush creeping over him, Aemond could forgive.

He could try to forgive. Later. When his patience wasn’t running out and he wasn’t grinding his teeth so hard they might break.

“That’s not -”

“Which riveting topics ignite such quarrels between you babes? Whether you obsess over your blade and books too often? If Helaena’s upset about her stupid bugs being in the wrong place? Whether she actually likes you over the attention she’s been giving that squire lately and how she giggles for him instead of you? Do not presume to know my dealings with my Maiden, valonqus. You wouldn’t know passion if it were riding your cock.” Aegon was rarely cruel, but he was good at it, and the smirk that twisted his features was just that. Cruel. “Seven knows our dreamy sister has no interest in riding you, or she probably would’ve done it already..”

It felt foolish that the first thing Aemond thought of was that no simple squire could ever be a better option than he, for he was a Targaryen and above the laws and expectations of the simple, common man. They were as close to gods as any could hope.

The second foolish thing burst from him as Vhagar burned inside, his fury and embarrassment pulled him to his feet to lean across the table and get into his pathetic brother’s face. Aegon no longer loomed over him, and was no longer as intimidating as he once was.

Aegon may have the perfect bond with his dragon, but Aemond had Vhagar.

There was nothing left to be jealous of his brother for.

“At least I know what love feels like,” Aemond snarled, his single eye locked on Aegon’s face and his teeth bared, every inch of him vibrating with the insult, the desire to curl his hands around his brother’s flushed neck barely suppressed. “At least I’m not too stupid to recognize it.”

The air in the room vanished in the wake of his outburst. The world held its breath and not even the logs popped. Not even baseborn Alyn with his japes and his commentary made a sound.

Aegon was still before him, eyes bright and sharp with a focus he’d never seen before except in the eyes of a dragon. The instinct to pull away was screaming at him but Aemond remained pinned in place. His jaw shut with a click, his eye widening when he finally registered what he’d said.

Oh yes, he’d fucked it up.

Aemond could feel Alyn’s gaze fixated on him but he didn’t move. He felt like if he moved, Aegon’s teeth would sink into his throat and rip it out. He couldn’t move as the fear and horror trickled ice through his veins, quenching that jealous, angry fire.

Aegon’s face had gone ashen; the horrid, blank look he got when Mother or Grandfather screamed at him came over him. His wisteria eyes continued to pin him. Aemond’s mouth grew dry as his brother’s ashen pallor turned pink, and then slowly red.

A muscle in his jaw ticked, and it was like Aegon was releasing him from a spell.

“Aegon,” Aemond rasped. “I didn’t-” He could speak but the abject regret and humiliation strangled him from being able to form any words.

Aegon’s face had turned a shade of purple and with a feral yell and the distant sound of a dragon’s scream coming from the open window, Aegon lunged across the table at him.

They went crashing ass over chair, food and goblets scattering and Aemond hitting the floor hard enough to knock the breath from him. A startled shout sounded somewhere, distantly, but it took everything in Aemond to focus before his brother’s fist connected squarely, solidly with his jaw. His face erupted in a million bursts of pain with a crack in his ear, yet Aemond’s fists reached up to push Aegon off, wordless yelling doing nothing to prevent his brother landing another blow.

Instinct drove Aemond now, Ser Criston’s training discarded in favor of the overwhelming voice that compelled him: get up or he’ll kill you. Get up or he’ll pummel you like Harwin Strong pummeled Ser Criston in the training yard until he was beyond bloody.

Even with his incandescent fury, Aegon was still closer to drunk than sober, and after spitting in his face, Aemond got his leg up and kneed his brother in the stomach, pushing him off and scrambling away so he was no longer pinned like one of Helaena’s favorite bugs to the display board.

Viscous blood spat from his mouth. “I take it back!” he yelled, shoving the chair in Aegon’s way while he scrambled to his feet.

With a roar, Aegon threw the chair and Aemond darted out of the way, the wood crashing against the stone wall. Alyn shouted Aegon’s name, another dragon call sounded over the city, and then Aemond felt Vhagar’s bond vibrate in his own chest, concern that was not his own clouding his mind.

Oh fuck.

“Aegon! Stop!” Aemond darted around the table to get it between them.

Alyn, the useless bastard, backpedaled out of the line of fire.

Aegon was on his heels and yanked him back by his long hair, landing another hit square on his nose. A sickening, dizzy feeling swept through Aemond at the stab of pain through his face, blood pouring from his nostrils.

Aegon reared back again.

Sunfyre was screaming across the city.

Aemond could not reach for the platter on the table to smack his brother with, and so he did the only other thing he could do: as Aegon went to throw his next punch, Aemond grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the balls.

Just like how Helaena taught him.

[Chapter Four]

#house of the dragon #asoiaf #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen fic #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen fic #aegon x abby #fic: the maiden and the drowning boy

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