#bastard-plane-husband

[yawnderu]

Living Dead Man - Zombie!Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

What is a husband but a man with a rotting body you can barely recognize?

CW: body horror, gore, tongue kiss with a dead man(?), is she wrong? morally, angst with a happy ending.

You examine the man as if he was under a microscope, milky white eyes staring back at you with the same intensity they always did. His balaclava was ripped off halfway, revealing a dislocated jaw, the bits of skin you could see while he was wearing his uniform were now all mangled up and pale, a contrast to the surprisingly soft skin Simon had before.

''Don't bite me.'' You warn and the zombie simply lets out a grunt in response. It has been a week since he turned, and it took hours of convincing the rest of the 141 to let you keep him— with the pretext that you could use him to try and find a cure, and maybe that was true. There was nothing you wanted more than to find a cure and turn your husband back to who he used to be. So far, nothing was working.

''I'm going to draw some blood, okay? It might sting a little bit.'' Your tone is gentle and so are your hands, carefully lifting off his uniform sleeve to reveal his forearm, needle penetrating one of his protruding veins until the blood collection tube was full of his dark, purple blood. You removed the needle, grabbing a cotton ball and taping it with medical adhesive tape. You sigh as you put down the materials, sitting down in front of your former husband... does it count as former if he's not completely dead?

''I miss you a lot...'' You start, speaking to him the same way you have been doing ever since he went nonverbal, unable to speak due to the zombification and broken jaw. Based on the grunts and the way he looks at you, you convinced yourself he can understand and knows who you are.

''I'm trying hard to find a cure. I mean, I like to believe I'm sort of close... but I don't know if it'll do much since the necessary organs are already decomposing. I'm sorry, I feel like I failed you.'' Your voice is strained as your gloved hands hold his, tears rolling down your cheeks as you silently sob, bringing his hands to your face and giving his knuckles soft kisses, the same way you did back when he was alive.

''I don't think I can go on without you, Si... I don't want a life without you.'' Your heart breaks more when you hear a soft grunt, a noise you became familiar with, the same sound he made before, comforting you when he knew you were down. Your head snaps up and you can see a small tear roll down his pale cheek, your eyes open wide as you bask in on the discovering.

''So you are sentient to some degree.'' Fuck Element 115 and fuck the zombie who bit your husband, the bastard is sentient! A scoff of disbelief escapes your lips as you smile up at him. You may not have a cure yet, but at the very least, he's not fully gone. Your hands gently caress his decomposing cheeks, testing the waters as you slowly lean closer.

Closer...

Closer, until your lips are touching his bloodied, decomposing mouth, the broken jaw forcing you to have an awkward angle to make it work. His mouth parts slightly and you take the chance to slip your tongue inside, holding in your breath to not throw up at the smell of his rot. Surprisingly, you feel his cold tongue wrap around yours weakly, his poor attempt to kiss you with the little control he has of his motor skills. You break away for a second to take a deep breath, hands cupping his cheeks while you look deep into his eyes.

''I love you. I wish... things were different. I heard they'll bomb the entire country to get rid of the evidence of the virus.'' A small chuckle escapes your lips as he simply stares at you, tears blurring your sight while you lean your head on his shoulder, tears rolling down your cheeks while you try to stay quiet.

''I don't know what to do, Si... There's really no hope. Even if I found a cure for you, we don't have access to any planes to get out of here, and any neighboring country would kill you if they see you.'' You feel cold hands attempting to hold your waist and you look up just to find he was already looking down at you. Perhaps you're that delusional, but you could swear his milky white eyes softened. You try your best to put on a small smile, even if it doesn't reach your eyes.

''At the very least... we're together. I'll see you in the next life, my love.'' He grunts softly in response and you let out a soft laugh. You ignore the panicked screams ringing through the base, closing your eyes as your forehead rests against Ghost's, one last display of love before the bomb hits, wiping out of everything you ever loved.

''Hey.'' You call out softly to your colleague, holding a skull glove that slipped out of his uniform. He turns to look at you for a few seconds, his expression unreadable even when he remains unmasked.

''Earth to Simon?'' You tease, waving the glove around for a few seconds before he gently takes it from you.

''Thank you... Stray, was it?'' He asks, one of his thin blond eyebrows raising slightly as he looks down at you. You nod your head, offering him a warm smile. You were just introduced by Captain Price, yet it feels like...

''Do I know you? You look familiar.'' A small smile is seen on his lips before he looks away, trying to keep his emotions in check. He thinks about his answer for a few seconds before it all hits you. He's...

''Ghost?'' You ask, tears rimming your eyes as soon as he nods, his arms wrapping around you tightly while he holds a hand on the back of your head, not wanting to let you see the tears escaping his eyes as well.

''Found you, love.'' A second chance at life with him.

[stylespresleyhearted]

THE MAJOR’S WIFE

warnings: mentions of miscarriage, adultery, nsfw, marital problems, oral (m! receiving), spanking, being turned on even when your brain isn’t in it, bucky in 1x04, bucky married pre-war, slight age gap bc reader can come off slightly immature (i think?) angst, historical inaccuracies, new mediocre writer be nice

summary: John Egan gets to know his wife again

word count: 9.7k

notes: i’m not sure where this came from i wrote it all today and got no part of my research paper done. there’s really no point to it and also irl john egan was actually really close to his mother so i emphasized that here. he wrote to her so much. no disrespect to any of the real people, this is based on the show/show timeline as well.

Lila gets the call on the 2nd of October and her dreams come true.

Not entirely, no. The real dream would be having him home safe and the tragic war being over but she knows how fortunate she is to have the next best thing happen. Her husband’s been granted a few days leave and Colonel Harding believed it would do Major Egan some good to have his sweet, young wife join him during those days overseas. For the good of John’s mental health the Colonel or the President - or whoever was in charge, Lila really had no idea - had agreed to pay for her ticket and their hotel. There was only one thing they asked for in return and although it wasn’t explicitly said, Lila caught their drift: sort your husband out.

Lila knows it would do her no good to sit and wonder how horribly John must be doing in order for them to declare an all expenses paid trip for his spouse. All she does is worry for him anyhow so she forces herself to focus on the one good thing of the entire ordeal - she’s going to see her man.

There’d been letters, although not as many as she liked and she tried not to let it show how it hurt as every other wife received more than one letter at a time. Her John wasn’t the sort, she knew that when she married him. He was the kind of person who needed endless skies and land to maintain his sense of stability. Having him cooped up would do him no good and she partly wondered how much of what he was struggling with was the trauma he witnessed in the air and how much of it was feeling caged on base. At least his plane, good ol’ Mugwump (he wrote about her quite often) offered him the opportunity to head anywhere he wanted.

The only person he wrote consistently and readily to was his mother. It was rare if a week went by and she received no letter. During these instances it was more times than not an issue with the postal service.

Be that as it may, Lila knew who she married and it made her love him no less so she tried not to let it get to her. His mother was a saint. Firm and strong and loving all the same. Lila would have never survived sending John off if his mother wasn’t who and how she was. She held Lila at night when her cries woke her and she let Lila sleep in his old childhood bed. She kept food on their table and ensured everyone got their work done through the worry.

When John first left and Lila was sick to her stomach and vomiting multiple times of the day it was his mother who consoled her through the night when her sheets turned a crimson red and any ideals of having their baby through the war was lost.

Frances Egan was the glue holding them together. All of them, even her son who was an entire ocean way - so no. Lila would not be angry that she was John’s preferred pen-pal.

“You fix him right up,” Mama Egan had said in lieu of goodbye when leaving her at the airport, “you give him the loving he needs as his wife and the smacks he needs from me to get on the straight and narrow before sending him off to continue saving the world. You do it for him, not for any of them war bastards. You hear me?”

All Lila could do was nod. Dropping her bags on the floor and clutching her pseudo mother tightly. She was excited as she was frightened.

They had only gotten two months together before he had been pulled away. She didn’t want to complain, loads of women had gotten less time at all while others had only ever been left with the promise.

But her two months as Mrs. Egan? They’d been a dream. Her man was a romancer. He hadn’t hesitated in introducing her as the newly (and younger) Mrs. Egan, always resulting in an arm slap from his mother, he held open doors and he never stopped courting her; however she thinks the best times were when he was teaching her how to act married.

In their bed, at a home he had spent a year building for them. Using any extra pennies he had to pay off younger boys to help him hurry it along. Giving her the wrap-around porch she had always envisioned.

He showed her how to kiss. How to undress him. He had laid her underneath him, using his large frame to cover her completely, protecting her from the cold as he threw the sheets off them and making her feel tiny compared to him. She had never felt safer.

It had hurt the first time but he had held her through it. Never allowing any inches of space between their bodies; as if telling her they were in it together. She’d always known he was large, everything about him was large in general, but she never thought how much it would hurt to have all of him fit inside her. Lila hadn't wanted to disappoint him so she tried to muffle her tears and whimpers but he had swallowed her cries and gone slow, soft.

“If this is it, it’ll be enough,” he had promised, only about half way inside her and wiping away her tears with his thumbs. As a thank you she had taken that calloused thumb into her mouth and sucked. He allowed her; hiding his face in her neck and pressing wet kisses along there.

And for the first few times that had been it. She couldn’t take all of him and his thrusts couldn’t get too deep so he would only slip inside until her tight hole resisted and pulsed and he’d hump against that spot until reaching his pleasure.

“Do other girls take all of it?” She had asked a couple days later, trying to wrap her head around it.

She was no idiot. John Egan was no virgin.

“Yes.” Lila could always count on him to be honest. At least there was that. Meanwhile she couldn’t even fully pleasure him. She was failing as a wife. “Hey,” he lay facing her and she lay on her back. He tapped her cheek until she turned her face. “You’re my wife. That’s what makes this feel better.”

And she had beamed at his reassurance even though she didn’t feel much better. She knew John would never push her, and he couldn’t stand to see her cry, so if she ever wanted to learn to be a good wife she would have to take it upon herself.

So that’s what she did.

He was always on top and she was always on her back. That’s the first thing she had to change. From her understanding of it, from her talks with friends that always ended in giggles and blushing cheeks and from what she learned from John, it could be done in many different ways.

“I prefer to be in charge,” her school friend, Linda, had admitted to her. “Not like that -” she clarified, cheeks pink, “Just - if I’m gonna take it, I’d rather do it at my pace. Be on top. Some husbands are good like that. They’ll allow it.”

And knowing her husband wasn’t just good, he was great, she knew he would hold no qualms about it. The next time they lay in bed kissing it was easy to turn him over and straddle him. Move her wetness against his belly to let him know there was still more she just needed him to accept it.

Except he thought she was asking him to do it so he flipped her on her back again. And without breaking their kiss, she turned him over again.

It was more like they were wrestling.

Lila pulls away from his mouth, reluctantly, noticing his lips were wet and red and swollen and wondering if hers were much the same. They had been kissing for so long her mouth felt raw.

She loved it.

Straddling him, she reached behind her, feeling him standing straight and hard against her backside in between her cheeks. Sticky.

He gasped, bucking into her fist with a loud, guttural groan. It was so manly she rocked against his stomach again in need.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted, “what’re you doing?”

“I want to try it like this,” she breathed, leaning over to whisper in his mouth, her tiny hand still wrapped around him and lining her up to her hole. “I want it all.” Lila clarified.

And John allowed it, like she knew he would. Let her take control and go at her pace. Let her swivel her hips on the way down to help with the tightness of being stretched so wide and thick.

Nothing but curses and promises of love leaving his lips. Gasping mine, mine, mine and my perfect fucking wife and I’m gonna fuck you forever.

He felt large inside of her, like if she was being split in two but it felt so good as the tip of him repeatedly hit a spongy part inside that had her coming with no contact to her clit for the first time.

She was beautiful, red splotches appearing on her body from the heat of their love-making, her hair tangled in his fists, her mouth falling open as she threw her head back - all of it was too much. He was flipping her over and pounding into her trying to chase his peak and a second one from her, their headboard banging against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts.

Things changed from then on. Sexually, that is. Becoming aware of how badly she needed to feel like she was pleasing him, John was not above using it against her. Like letting him lick at her.

“Good wives allow their husbands everything,” he would say, lips wide in a smile and eyes bright at the prospect of getting his way but Lila always knew the choice was really hers. He would respect what she wanted.

He was just too damn addicting. She couldn’t stand to tell him no.

His favorite times were when she allowed him to sit her over his face and let him feast. It drowned the outside world for him and he kept at it even after she had reached multiple orgasms and was pulling on his hair and the only thing keeping her up was his forearms locking around her thighs.

Her favorite was when he allowed her to taste him at the same time he was licking her. It was a tie between those times and when he held her down until all of him was in her mouth and she was spluttering, choking, gagging. Knowing she made a filthy vision and he adored it did something to her.

Now she was in London, closer to him than she had been in years, and all their intimacies were within reach. She could almost taste him, feel him petting back her hair and settling a hand at the low of her back. She still remembers the smell of his after shave and sweat, how he’d come into the kitchen asking for some of her homemade lemonade to help with the heat.

Jack Kidd was tasked with picking up Mrs. Egan from the airport and having her arrive at base with him. She remembers meeting him a couple of times before John shipped out early. Originally she was meant to wait for John at their hotel but there had been an issue when planning her flight and she arrived sooner than intended.

“Ma’am,” he greeted, placing a friendly kiss on her cheeks and taking her bags from her. “Bucky’s gonna be happy as hell to see your face.”

The tone in his voice - relief? alleviation? - had some of her happy wife's facade crumbling. How badly was her Johnny hurting that everyone was looking at her at his only chance to remain sane or alive?

Stop it. Maybe everyone’s just aware Johnny misses you. You’re his wife.

“Not as happy as me, I wager,” she returned with a smile. “I’m glad to see you’re doing okay, Jack. Glad to see you still kicking.”

His shrug didn’t soothe her worry but she saw him try to mask it with a smile.

“All we boys can do is pray.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, gathering his attention. “You boys have got the prayers of our entire country protecting you.”

Jack simply nodded in response.

For the most part the ride to base was quiet. Her bags would be kept in the trunk until her and John were ready to drive out to London in a couple of hours and until then, she’d be his surprise at the officer’s club. Silver Wings, Jack called it. Where all the boys gathered and had drinks and celebrated accomplishments. And where some chose to mourn, too.

Her stomach was turning as she neared the hut, following Jack’s footsteps. There was so much that could go wrong and although this was meant to be a surprise, the U.S Army showing their gratitude towards a brave Major, she suddenly wished she would have called John and told him. She wished he knew so that she wouldn’t have to walk in feeling alone and unwanted.

Not that Lila thought John would turn her away, she simply wanted to have him hold her hand as she walked through the threshold.

“Stick close by,” Jack murmured, being respectful of where he touched her before deciding to lead her by her shoulder. “It gets crowded but I’ll take ya to him.”

As she walked through different groups, she felt the offending eyes of men and women alike. Wondering who she was. With a pang in her heart she realized she had met John’s squadrons before but all these crews were new. The boys she met, most of them at least from what she could tell, hadn’t made it. John never wrote about who passed away (except to inform her of Curt) ; most of their letters were him expressing his love and how he missed her so and asking what she got up to.

Having walked around the roundabout bar in the center of the room, her stomach in knots and fingers tangled in front of her - she caught sight of her husband smack middle in the dance floor. Pressed against a beautiful brunette.

Lila caught sight of him before even Jack did. That’s how connected she was to her husband. Jack whistled from beside her to gain Gale’s attention who was resting against the bar holding his signature ginger ale, also watching John Egan chat up the woman he was swaying with with something like disapproval in his eyes.

His large hands were occupying most of the space of her waist, keeping her body tethered to his as she laughed.

“Lila,” he gasped, eyes wide. He was smart enough to not turn and look at his buddy. To act as if nothing was amiss and she expected nothing less from Gale Cleven, “damn it all to hell. You’re a sight for sore eyes, Mrs. Egan.”

Because he was close to John, he didn’t hesitate in wrapping her up in a tight hug and pressing a kiss to her tinted cheeks. He knew John wouldn’t mind.

When he pulled back she patted his chubby cheek in return, “You still shame the rest of us with your good looks, Gale,” she laughed. “I’ll let Marge know when I see her next.”

Lila also knew she would share with Marge that while Gale was being loyal, standing off to the side her husband was exchanging oxygen with a woman on the dance floor.

His cheeks tinted at the mention of his girl. Buck and Bucky were both aware Lila and Marge wrote to one another and visited each other whenever time made it possible.

“Colonel Harding said Major Egan was in need of something from home,” she said, studying his reaction to see what she could read but Gale had always been aloof, cold. He wasn’t close to her like he was with Marge and John.

Gale thought back to a few moments earlier when John had disrespected their Colonel and all his actions before that too - disrespecting superiors, drinking more consistently, becoming angry - hopelessness in his eyes.

“He’s in need of you Lila,” Gale clarified and it wasn’t lost on either one of them that he they were referring to was currently on the floor wooing another woman.

“Holy shit! It’s Mrs. Egan!” Hambone animatedly announced and suddenly it felt like the eyes of everyone in there were on her. Her cheeks tinted pink, never having been one for the spotlight like her husband.

She was greeted with welcoming cheers and hugs.

John, for his part, disentangled from the woman he was holding at the mention of his missus. He was sober enough to appear sheepish and guilty, but in the next second it was gone as he stalked towards her. Determined. Quick. His smile growing the more he neared like he was becoming more aware she was really there and it wasn’t a fucked up scenario in his head.

“God, Lila,” she managed to hear him say before she was elevated in the air, his arms tight around her waist and lifting her high so they were at face level and he could kiss her. Channeling his love and exuberance and aggression into kissing his wife. “It’s you, it’s you, it’s really you,” he was saying in between smooches, “I missed you. So fucking much, doll.”

Basking in his love she didn’t feel the need to mention the woman that was so kindly keeping him preoccupied before she entered.

She couldn’t help the first tear from falling or the rest from following. It was like the tightness in her chest unlocked as she finally got to hold him and feel his heat surround her. He still smelled of after shave and the same hair gel that was kept in their bathroom at home but he tasted strongly of whiskey and cigarettes and strawberry lipstick.

John tucked his face into her neck, setting her down and bending to her level. Sniffling in there as he continued to hold her.

“None of that,” she did her best to stop her voice from wobbling or breaking, “we’re together. That’s all that matters.” She drew his face out from where he had hidden to pepper him with a few more kisses.

None of it was enough.

The rest of the guys were kind enough to return to the dance floor and act like they couldn’t see them.

“Who? What - why? How?” He was obviously having trouble forming coherent thoughts in between the kisses he continued stealing from her.

She was crying and laughing and trying to return all his touches. It was a terribly difficult ordeal but she had never been happier.

“Colonel Harding called and said you had a weekend leave. He said he talked to some of the higher ups but they couldn’t allow you a leave home so this was the next best thing,” she explained, cupping his cheek as she rubbed her thumb over his cheekbone. He had minor scars that weren’t there before.

She wanted to kiss every single one of them.

He was still bent towards her height, taking her in as she was taking him in.

She forgot how blue his eyes were.

He was whole. Complete. Hers.

“You’re here for the entire weekend?” He asked to confirm and she nodded, laughing when he lifted her again with a loud whoop to celebrate. That got a few of the guys to join in although they had no idea what their Major was celebrating.

“I need you,” his voice suddenly dropped, setting her down as he turned to the door. “Let’s go.” He was buckling up her coat to make sure she was protected from the freezing London air. She was lucky he was too far gone to scold her for arriving with it unbuckled in the first place - she could get sick.

“John, John - relax, my sweet man,” she laughed, cupping his cheek to get his attention. “We can stay for a while. We don’t have to go yet.”

It’s why she was at the officer’s club in the first place. She had arrived early.

John turned stiff in her hold, straightening to his full height as he suddenly loomed over her. “I’ve got you in my arms for the first time and you want to stay here?” His voice was tight. His face stern.

“Yes - no, I -” she was unsure of where she went wrong or how to fix it. She clasped his hands in hers but he didn’t allow her to thread their fingers together so it was just her holding on. “I just meant we’ve got time, John.”

The way he was looking at her made her want to cry. She felt her lower lip quivering.

She felt ashamed, whispering, trying to get him to keep his cool.

“Time? Time?” He laughed loudly. She was mildly aware of Gale breaking away from a group of guys to near them, worried but she was mostly focused on John. The tense lines on his face even as he laughed and the quirked eyebrow even though she found no amusement in their situation. “You think I’ve got time? You have no idea what it’s like up there.”

She shook her head but didn’t try to verbally explain herself. She wasn’t sure she could manage a few words before breaking into tears.

“Come on, Bucky,” that was Gale stepping in to save the day. Perhaps the only person who could get John to listen. “When have you ever left before dancing with your girl? You gotta show these rookies how it’s properly done right?”

With Gale slapping a hand to John’s shoulders, he seemed to snap out of it. Releasing a deep breath and seemingly all the tightness in body with it.

He leaned down again, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, clasping a hand around her neck so she wouldn’t pull her head back. As their eyes locked she felt a tear fall again and this one wasn’t happy. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. It’s this place. It’s fucking with my head.”

And she chose to believe him, nodding her head in understanding and trying not to think about how she wasn’t his preferred person to write letters to or the one who could clear his head.

Maybe the Colonel should have allowed a weekend pass for Gale and John.

Lila swallowed the thought, allowing John to pull her to the dance floor as he lost all anger and aggression and became charming and loving all over again.

“Everyone, this is my wife!” He bellowed and everyone cheered in response. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and -” he hiccuped and she realized he was drunker than she thought, “and I bet we can out dance any couples here tonight!”

So for the next hour she found herself being twirled around the dance floor by her husband. She almost forgot their prior negative interaction; his love and energy was so infectious. For the slow songs he would hold her close and she would rest her head against his chest, letting it lull her to a relaxing state. He was alive and she was with him. That had to be enough. For the more upbeat songs, he was challenging any couple beside them. Asking those sitting who were better dancers? Who could perform certain dance moves better?

And all throughout, he was like he used to be back home. Loud and happy and the center of attention, keeping everyone entertained. He kept announcing to his boys that his beautiful wife was there and then he’d place a wet kiss on her mouth that had their cheeks (and hers) turning red but all he would do is smile and continue on.

She was finally able to disentangle herself from him when Crosby pulled him in for a conversation. Lila wonders if her state of disheveled hair and panting breaths made him want to aid her in allowing her to sit and grab a refresher.

Once she accepts Crosby’s hug and cheek kiss, she excuses herself to go grab a drink. John only pulls her back once to steal a kiss before she gets too far.

Her lips might be bruised by the time they leave if he kept it up.

She orders a cup of ice water from the man tending the bar, looking back out at her husband as she waits. He’d always been tall and strong, but she notices the change in his posture. The bulges in his arms as he twirled her around and lifted her in the air. His eyes were only bright when he forced it. They had lost their shine and she wishes she brought the picture from back home. Where he looks young and full of life and joyful. Even when he smiles he seems hollow; hopeless.

She’s there but he doesn’t really care because in his head he’s already thinking of when she leaves again.

She wasn’t used to that. Her John only lived in the moment.

“He keepin’ you busy?”

Gale settles up behind her and pushes the glass water towards her. She didn’t even notice when it was put down.

“Dizzy, more like,” she jokes and gets him to crack a smile. She thinks to when she walked in and seen Gale, how he’d been watching the scene unfold but with a disapproving look in his eyes. How he didn’t try to hide the scene from her or excuse it. He let it be. And she knows John has never shied away from attention. He’s always been handsome and charming and girls always swarmed but Lila wasn’t aware she had to be around to keep him loyal. She thought he just was. And she knows it’s not too long before they leave now so she decides to be direct with him. “So, does that happen often?”

She sees Gale’s expression split for a second, like he debates playing dumb before deciding against it and she respects him even more for it.

“I think you should talk to John about it.” He decides on.

“Is it something that needs to be mentioned?” She doesn’t like playing this game with him but she knows at the first words of cheating and adultery Gale is going to excuse himself and her chance will be lost.

She can’t be simple and ask: Does my husband cheat on me?

“Another ginger ale, Marty,” Gale raises two fingers to grab the man’s attention and mutters a thanks as his drink is immediately refilled. He turns his attention back to Lila. “He still loves you, Lila. It’s just - hard. Being out here.”

“You seem to be coping fine.”

She feels bitter. Crazy. There’s a sob she has to choke back.

Lila’s too embarrassed to meet Gale’s gaze. Ashamed that everyone knows what’s been going on and she was the ditzy woman being twirled on the dance floor.

“I think I was used to loneliness. He isn’t.”

And he says nothing else as he leaves her behind heading back to his boys. It’s just Lila and her shattering heart and her husband calling to beckon her back to the dance floor.

Luckily they didn’t stay much longer. She walked over to Bucky but he wasn’t able to pull her back out for a dance - it’s my song, Lila! - because Jack Kidd was approaching, letting them know it was time to leave them at the train station.

Lila waited in the car while Bucky ran into his quarters to pack his bag. He didn’t have many things to take, he would be stuck wearing his uniform anyway. Gale walks him back out to the car and despite the earlier conversation Lila exits the safety of the interior to say her goodbyes.

“Take care of yourself, Major,” she squeezes him, “I need you to stick around after this weekend to look after my man.”

“It’s a hard job but I try,” he replies, both of them ignoring Bucky’s protests.

Besides that, Bucky’s quiet on the ride to the train station. He carries her bag on board but he’s quiet for the duration of the train ride. Lila doesn’t disturb him; he might be tired or hungover or both.

And if she’s honest she’s scared of him snapping at her like the night before.

Instead she takes the time to take him in. He’s handsome in his suit. Tall and big and strong, his sharp jaw and powerful mouth, his eyes blue like a sunny day and his curls coming undone from the gel after all the dancing he did.

Lila doesn’t allow her mind to wander down this path too often but suddenly she can’t help it. Would their baby have looked like him or like her? She wishes more than anything they would have had his ears. She wishes they would have had his heart and his strength - but her loyalty. Her faith in them.

It’s crazy when she stops to think she was nineteen when she married him and now she’s twenty-one. She’s loved him for more than she’s been allowed to have him. She has changed without him like he has without her and it’s frightening to think neither of them could be accepting of those changes. Whatever they may be.

Lila shuts those thoughts out, closing the distance between them to sit on his lap. Passerby’s and his horrible mood and what scares her could be damned to hell - all she wants is her man.

John doesn’t deny her; she admits she was a little scared he would.

“I love you,” she tells him, catching his eyes.

“I know.”

He doesn’t return the words as they continue staring at one another but she refuses to let it get her down. This is her husband. She has the rest of her life to get to know him; new or old habits, she doesn’t care.

So instead, Lila plasters a smile onto her face. “What’re you gonna show me first in London, Major?”

“Well I really wanna show you our hotel room,” he plays along, allowing her to trace the edges of his mustache. She lets out a knowing chortle. “And I really want to show you -” he cuts himself off to look around, making sure no one was near them as he leans in to whisper, “- my cock, Mrs. Egan.”

She turns a bright red, trying to sputter out a proper response for that but all she can do is indignantly scold him. “John Clarence! If your mom were here -” and they both break out in loud laughter at the many possibilities of what his mother would exactly do to him if she heard his wicked mouth.

“Wanna grab some grub first?” He asks instead, knowing she hadn’t eaten at the officers club and before then she had been stuck on a plane. “I know a few places.”

Lila nods happily, pressing a kiss to his mouth. His lips are warm and as plump as she remembers them. His mustache tickles her.

“Let me feed you first, woman!” He groans, trying to be a gentleman. “When’s the last time you ate?”

She puckers her lips to think about it and that’s the only answer he needs: food is definitely first.

When they arrive at the hotel John enters to check them in but he slips a few bills into the bell boy’s hand with strict instructions to leave the bags in their room before pulling her back out to the London streets.

Lila felt underdressed surrounded by women in diamonds and fancy hats, and it didn’t help that John was beside her in his uniform looking dapper and catching the eye of many. They were stopped multiple times on the way to the diner; men wanting to shake his hand and show their gratitude while the women introduced themselves, uncaring of Lila under his right arm.

As long as he wasn’t ignoring or dismissing her she realized she didn’t really care. It wasn’t much different back home; everyone knew and loved John Egan.

The diner he chose was small and cozy and his legs were too long to fit under their table so his boot and his knee kept bumping into her own and she adored it. She wanted to feel close to him and since sitting on his lap currently wasn’t an option she figured this would have to do.

He tells her many stories but none of them are sad or tragic. He only shares the happy ones. He talks about how he convinced the Colonel to allow Buck, Curt, and himself a London weekend pass one time and they had shoved Gale into a haberdashery where he tried on a multitude of top hats worth more money any of them would ever see combined. But because they were soldiers and majors at that, the owner allowed it. There’s a museum nearby he talks about wanting to take her too, it showcases art from as early as the 1400s and he says he’s gotten lost in there plenty of times and it was lovely.

All the while, she listens without hearing him. Choosing to take him in and letting her mind wander to how it would be if things were different. It pains her to think how much older he looks since she last saw him. Looking more like it was ten years instead of the measly two. John’s always been one to smile freely but the wrinkles by his mouth, eyes, and forehead aren’t from smiling or laughing too much.

Lila knows they’re from worrying and stressing and being scared and she hates that she can’t understand him or be there for him. No matter how hard he tries.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes when a sob breaks free. She curls in over the table and John’s reaching over to rub her shoulders. She grabs a hold of her hand in his. “I just missed you so much.” She presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I don’t think I know how to not miss you.”

John doesn’t say anything but he motions a server over to settle the bill and once that’s done, he’s taking her hand and pulling her out the chair.

“You got enough food in you?”

All she can do is nod.

Her body feels electric on the short walk back to the hotel. He doesn’t do more than hold her hand and she thinks that is what has her nerves jittery, his palm in her hand sets her alight. She can feel his rough skin and the calluses on his fingers and the fingertips he runs over her skin and she bites back a moan.

Moaning in the middle of a bustling London street? She’d be thrown into an asylum she’s sure.

Beside her he’s quiet but his steps are quick. She has to lightly jog to keep up with long strides. He pulls on her hand to help her keep pace. It makes her think he’s as impatient for it as she is so she was surprised when upon closing the hotel room behind him he stays by the door. Not nearing or touching or kissing.

Just - nothing.

Her throat becomes tight again as she remembers the girl from the night before and her conversation with Gale. Is that the reason why?

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says before she can spiral any further. Approaching her and bringing their lips together in a searing kiss, wasting no time in sliding his tongue alongside hers.

“I love you,” she responds and once again he doesn’t say it back. She figured he wouldn’t but she wanted to try. He takes her mouth in his again.

She gets irrationally angry, suddenly feeling the need to claim him so she bites at his bottom lip. He pulls back to press a finger to his lip, wiping the blood there.

Lila pulls on his belt, dropping to her knees right there in the middle of the room.

Mine. He’s mine.

“Make me your wife again,” she’s not sure but it sounds like she’s begging as she manages to unbuckle his belt and pull them around his strong thighs.

“God,” he breathed, “fuck. Look at you.”

Swollen lips parted for him to put to use. John wrapped his fist around her long hair to maintain a good grip, allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of her throat. There was no resistance, no gag, her body remembering how it was taught to take all of him even though time had passed. John loved that fucking mouth and he found himself angry as thoughts entered his mind - if anyone had fucked her mouth while he’d been away - and he jerks his hips more forcefully. Rough.

This time Lila does gag. Her hand goes to push against his hip but he doesn’t allow her to pull away.

“Did anyone else do this?”

She splutters, eyes on him and confused with a mouthful of cock, unable to talk.

“Did you suck someone else’s cock? This is mine, Lila. Mine.”

He holds her down for a couple of more seconds before allowing her reprieve. She sputters and coughs, looking at him the entire time.

His dick is still hard and long, standing to attention, and he’s not sure whether he should apologize before she’s taking his bobbing dick back into her mouth. To the back of her throat and gulping and fondling his balls. Her nose kissing the coarse hairs on his belly trail and although it feels fucking amazing - he can feel the anger too. Her anger.

How dare he accuse her.

When she pulls off there’s a strand of saliva connecting his prick to her tongue. She has half a mind to go back for more but he’s pulling her back by her hair.

“I’m so lucky to have a wife who’s cock hungry,” he groans, pulling her to her feet by her hair and connecting their mouths in a rough kiss. Their teeths crash and tongues wrestly and he feels fucking crazy that she tastes like him. Simultaneously ripping each other’s clothes off.

Lila didn’t have any warning. One second she was kissing him and ripping open his shirt and the next she was bent over the bed with her ass in the air. John ran a finger over the wet patch on her underwear. The bite on her cheek was also unexpected and she clawed at the sheets, sure she could come from the feeling alone.

“This is mine, Lila,” he leaned in close, burying his face in her underwear. “Mine.”

All she could do was whimper and agree.

John smacked her ass so hard it jiggled. Lila yelled and after the pain ceded, time seemed to stop. Nothing but their rough breathing filling the room. John had never done that before.

She wasn’t sobbing but there were tears escaping. She was sure he didn’t know. He was waiting for a reaction.

Lila wasn’t sure where this side of her husband came from. Had he held back those two months? Did he learn it in Europe? Was that why there was another woman - because she couldn’t satisfy him?

She can’t lose him.

“Please,” she begs, hiding tears in the duvet, “do it again.”

Lies. It was all lies but John believes her and he strikes again. She yelps, fisiting the sheets. He believes it’s in pleasure.

Ten slaps. That’s how many she endures before he begins shushing and petting her again. He runs his fingers through her folds and although she didn’t enjoy the punishment mentally - she did nothing wrong, he was the liar - her body certainly did. She’s sopping wet, she’s gonna have to throw out her underwear because they’re destroyed.

“Did you enjoy that?” He grabs a fistful of her hair to sit her up, her back against his sweaty, matter chest. “You like being spanked, baby?”

“Yes.” It’s only half of a lie.

“Now - now, I’m going to fuck you. Nice and hard, just how you like it,” she wants to scream at him. She wants to hit him. When did she ever like it hard? When was hard ever nice? Who was he thinking about because it wasn’t her.

But at the same time she rocks back against him to feel his cock hard between her cheeks. She can’t say she doesn’t want it. Him. This.

He pushes her back down at her teasing, using his now free hands to spread her cheeks and show her tight asshole. Untouched and pure. He presses the tip of his cock against it but he doesn’t push. He doesn’t move.

She jerks at the pressure. Drools on the mattress as she tries to bite down to temper her screams.

Do it.

No, don’t.

“One day,” he promises, pressing deeper so her hole opens but not deep enough to push. “But today, today I want this.” And without any prepping like she’s used to, without any more warning, he’s sliding down and pushing into her. Hard. Deep.

She screams, can’t help it, claws at the mattress in an attempt to crawl away.

It hurt but it felt so good.

Who was she?

“You think you can go be with other men? Let them use the holes I trained? The ones that belong to me?” He pumps into her deep. Once, twice. She’s so wet the noises filling the room are pornographic, her yelling and his panting and her sopping wet vagina smacking against his thighs and taking his cock so well. “You like it like this, Lila? Like when I fucking own you?”

“Yes, yes,” she swears and this time she isn’t lying. It’s all she can manage; she thinks she’s gone cock dumb. There are no words, no feelings, just the feeling of him filling her.

She clenches tight when he slides out. She wants him inside her forever.

He releases his hold of her hair, stepping away. He’s tired of muffling her moans and words. He’s tired of not being able to see her beautiful face.

John’s favorite face in the entire world.

“Turn around,” he commands.

Lila kneels on wobbly legs as she turns over, having little to no energy and bouncing as her body lands with no grace on the mattress. John grabs one of her jiggling breasts in his large hand, squeezing tightly.

“I fucking missed these.” He takes one in his mouth, biting down on her nipple hard. She shrieks but holds his head to pull him closer.

Her thighs are forced open by his hand and then he’s taking hold of himself and thrusting in deep again. Releasing her breasts from his mouth in order to look at her mouth. Lila’s face when he’s fucking her is as close to heaven as he thinks he’ll ever get. She’s incoherent but she’s begging for more - that much he can make out. She manages to gather the strength to grab hold of him and pull him down, clawing at his back.

He hisses at the pain and bites on her collarbone to reciprocate it.

When she grabs the nape of his neck, the cool touch of her wedding ring against his skin, it gives him pause. This was his wife. His wife.

John has been gone so long he thinks he forgot he was married.

“I love you,” he finally says it, pressing his forehead against hers as he slows down. He sniffles then, leaning down to press a wet open-mouthed kiss against hers and swallow her moans. John can’t believe he forgot he had this; can’t believe he forgot for a minute how lucky he was. She’s gorgeous (and not just externally) and he’s quite sure he somehow managed to dream her up. “I love you,” he swears again.

This time she’s the one who doesn’t say it.

She clutches at neck and pulls him down to take a boob in his mouth. Looking him in the eye hurts too damn much. Why did he have to do this now? She was lost in the pain; she had been taking her punishment.

Lila squeezed her eyes shut, moaning loudly as she thrashed around the bed. Her orgasm taking over her body. She wrapped both legs tighter around John, squeezing and pulsing around him and dragging him to the edge with her.

“Fuck, fuck,” he roared, “so damn tight. Yes, Lila. My perfect wife.”

For a couple of seconds, they lay in the aftermath. Lila could feel the heat of John’s breath against her neck. She counted how many breaths they shared in between one another as they recuperated.

Forty-seven that’s how many breaths they shared as they stayed connected.

Forty-eight that’s when John managed to lift his head and place a peck against her mouth. One she didn’t return.

Forty-nine that’s when John pulled back in concern. Lila was so still.

Fifty. That’s the breath she used to say, “you cheated on me,” looking him right in the eyes as she broke out in uncontrollable sobs.

She cried and cried underneath him. Unable to move because her legs felt like jello and they held no power. Unable to push him off because she didn’t want to let him go. Unable to speak because she was suffocating in her heartbreak.

John watched her until he couldn’t, until he was afraid she was going to choke on her own tears and then he was sitting her up, trying to ignore the way she fought against his touch.

I’m sorry, I’m here, he kept saying.

I hate you, she thought but didn’t say.

Until finally, “don’t touch me!” She yelled when he got too close and made to wrap her up in a hug. “Get away from me, John. Stay away.” She crawled to the edge of the bed and curled herself into a tiny ball. Aware she was fully naked and he was still leaking out of her but she couldn’t find it in herself to do anything except cry.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t open her lungs and get any air in. She slapped at the headboard, aware that she was having a panic attack as suddenly everything hit her all at once. It was entirely consuming and she couldn’t do anything to fight against it except cry. All the feelings rushed her at once.

This was going to be it. The weekend of two lovers reunited was the weekend from hell and this was going to be it. She was going to return home in a day and he would stay in Europe and continue to fight the war and seek out other girls and when he returned she wouldn’t be his wife anymore.

Lila would be scornful and full of resentment and miserable and he would leave her. This last time was going to be all she had and she hated him for ruining it.

Why couldn’t he hide his affairs better?

Why did she have to surprise him?

She was perfectly happy not knowing. She was worried and stressed to hell and crying every night missing him but, oh God, all that was better than this.

Lila isn’t sure how long it’s been since she last took a breath but she feels herself fading. She’s shivering and naked in their bed and she can only slightly take in that John’s wrapping her up in the duvet and curling himself around her to warm her up. She’s trying to tell him she can’t breathe, she’s suffocating, at the same time he’s blowing air in her face.

She’s fading when she feels it. A sting on the left side of her face. Hard and sharp and enough to have her gasping for a deep breath.

“Baby, please, wake up,” he’s crying over her, his head on her chest, “wake up. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Her chest aches. She coughs.

He whips his head up so fast she almost laughs. Almost.

“Lila,” he holds her against his chest, rocking them back and forth on the bed as she takes in her surroundings. She isn’t sure how long she was out or how long she was panicking for. Had the sun been setting while she lost her shit? It was dark outside now. “Don’t leave me, you can’t leave me. Please.”

She taps at his arms to get him to release. She doesn’t think she can talk.

John allows her the space but he doesn’t remove himself from the bed. He stays kneeling, watching her. His hands keep twitching like he wants to reach out and touch her but he’s trying to respect her wishes of not being touched.

She doesn’t lay back down, she stays resting against the headboard. Breathing hurts. She’s scared of suffocating once more. Her left cheek begins burning and she wishes she had the strength to go look in the mirror. Did he mark her? She hopes he did.

Lila’s glad he made it hurt.

“You need to go,” she finally manages to say, ignoring the way he’s already shaking his head in defiance. “Leave me here, John. I want you to go. Get another room.” Find another woman. “I leave in a day.” She wishes she never came to stupid London. She wishes she could forget this entire trip.

“Lila it’s the war,” he starts, shaking in his own tears. “It’s all the shit I see, baby. None of it was because of you okay? None. You don’t fucking know what it’s like up there for us but I stay alive in hopes of coming home to you.” He promises.

She shakes her head, fighting back any more tears. How the hell could she still have any tears left?

“But Gale didn’t cheat,” it bursts out of her before she can stop it and she knows it’s the wrong thing to say entirely.

John stops his apologies, clearing his throat as he gets up and begins dressing into his suit. She doesn’t stop him. She doesn’t take back any of what she said. She gets tired of sitting so she lays on her side, staring out the window and noticing London doesn’t have many stars. Is that why it’s so horrible here? Because there were no stars to wish upon.

She could hear his boots stomping on the ground as he reached the door. “Maybe you should have married Gale fucking Cleven then.” And the door slams shut behind him.

She wonders if he’s angry enough to find a girl and sleep with her. Her eyes blur. The time on the clock is six p.m and London’s already dark. She realizes she hasn’t slept since her plane ride. About 19 hours awake - her and John.

Lila allows her eyes to close, hoping when she wakes everything will be better.

Shadows over her eyelids wake her up. Lila finds she hasn’t moved. She’s in the same position facing the window. Facing London, only now bombs are dropping over it. The prettiest colors burst forward in the window but she knows it's truly only tragedy and loss. Murder.

She recognizes John sitting in the arm chair and she wonders when he got back. He isn’t facing her, he’s watching bomb after bomb drop and land no more than mere miles away from them. He’s holding a whiskey on ice, twirling the ice so it hits against the glass.

Lila wonders then if it was the shadows or the noise that woke her up.

“I must have punched in my card a long time ago,” his voice is strong in the dead of the night, seemingly even louder than when he’s singing in the pub. “It must be the reason for all of this. Karma.” He scoffs.

I deserve this, is what he’s trying to say.

Lila feels her stomach twist and spin and there’s bile sitting in her throat. She closes her eyes to stop herself from imagining John in a plane, dropping a bomb that lands on children. She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see the hurt sitting on his shoulders.

She remembers how angry she was when he first signed up. Before they were married. They had been dating for over a month, barely, and she already scribbled ‘Mrs. Egan’ over her notebooks. She’d heard it from his younger sister, Eileen, and she felt her world stop. She hadn’t hesitated to run to the stables he worked at and confront him in front of all the men.

“You’re leaving me,” she had accused him. “You’re gonna leave! I’ll never forgive you, John Egan.”

And in front of everyone he’d knelt down and produced a ring, the one his father had given his mother and said, “Marry me.” He didn’t ask because they both knew it wasn’t a question.

She was already his.

And he was hers.

Lila had forgiven him and promised to love, honor, and obey for the rest of her life.

She doesn’t have the strength to stand so even though her throat burns she speaks. “Lay with me,” she croaks. Her voice is raspy and broken and even clearing it aches.

John shakes his head. “You don’t want me to.”

“Lay with me,” she repeats, firm. “I just want to fall asleep with you.”

He looks at her like he's scared to believe. Trying to figure out whether she’s simply being cruel and going to kick him out in her next breath. Or more likely, he’s scared she’ll lose her shit being near him again.

John, hopeful and never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, sets his drink down and nears the bed. Lila keeps her eyes locked on his and he does the same. Their moves and tension resemble a game of chicken, one of them afraid any sudden change can have the other running off.

“Take off your uniform,” she says when he pushes back the covers while still fully dressed. He jerks his head in confusion and she bites her lip to contain a laugh at his dirty mind. Sex is the last thing on her mind. “I want to feel you, that’s all.”

John does as she asks, setting his cap down and shredding every layer before he’s naked and gorgeous and sliding in beside her. She doesn’t allow herself to think about what it means when she immediately slides closer.

Lila’s the one to wrap her arms around him.

Lila’s the one to intertwine their legs.

John follows her lead, lifting an arm so she can raise her head and use it as a pillow. She scoots her face closer and she nuzzles into her armpit, smelling his deodorant and feeling his hairs poke at her nose. She moves further along, escaping the cocoon of his armpit to press her cheek against his chest. She clutches his dog tags in her palm, tight, so he can’t get up in the middle of the night.

“Can we fall asleep together?” She asks, but when she looks up John’s already there.

The next time Lila wakes up her palm aches. She releases what she’s gripping, remembering how she clung to John’s dog tags when he slid into bed beside her. She lifts her head and finds John already looking at her.

He’s got the saddest eyes she’s ever seen and she hates that she’s partly why.

“We should talk,” her voice is low and cracks from not being used. John nods his head but makes no move to begin.

Lila lays her head back on his chest, lightly picking at his matted, curly chest hair. She presses her lips to a freckle near his nipple and his intake of breath lets her know he felt it,

“I’m not the one you write the most letters too,” she starts, finding it easier to not have to look him in the eye. “You write the most to your mom. And I’m not the one who can calm you down when your anger gets the best of you,” she’s so tired of crying, “that’s Gale. “And I can’t even be here for you at the end of a mission to console you or kiss you or help you forget,” she chokes on a sob. “That’s whoever else.”

I couldn’t even keep our baby healthy, she leaves out.

“What’s your point with all this, Lila?”

Lila lifts her head from his chest, “My point is I’m a horrible wife. I - I don’t know if it was too soon or just not thought out but this - I- ” she can’t get the rest of the words out.

“Don’t say that,” John sits up against the headboard, forcing her up as well. He grabs both her wrists in one of his hands to pull her closer and grab her attention. “Don’t fucking tell me that, Lila.”

“I don’t make you happy,” she shakes her head.

“You do. Everything I do, everything I’m doing - it’s for you Lila.”

“I don’t want to marry Gale. Or someone like him. I love you. Only you. But I’m scared that I don’t make you happy. You deserve better.”

“Oh you dumbass,” John coos, suddenly finding the entire situation amusing. He pulls her in for a hug. “You’re my entire fucking heart, Lila Egan. You don’t think you make me happy? You’re the only thing in my life, in my head, that makes me happy.”

She pulls away to hold his face. “If you’re gonna leave me John you need to tell me now. I don’t care about the girls if all they are is to pass the time. And I don’t care that you write to your mom more than me and I don’t care that Gale is the one you listen to but I just need to be the one you love the most. I need to know I’m making you happy.”

His heart aches at the fact that he made her feel she was ever anything less than the most important person in his life. “Lila,” he presses a kiss to her lips, “Rose,” another kiss, “Egan,” another. “Are my only reason for staying alive.”

[itsphoenix0724]

Hi! Could I please request Lavander with Eris?

- 🪷

Lavender (Eris x Reader)

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, allusions to smut

Word Count: 1097

❀° Event Masterlist ❀°

A/N: I love me some Eris, thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy it because I loved writing it! Please come visit again soon <3

EDIT: You're my first named anon, I'm SO excited! Thank you so much I really appreciate you, I hope you'll come again!

The fire crackling in the hearth flares in time with your husband’s frustration. He’s been bent over his desk all day, the furrow in his brow now seeming a permanent fixture. The title of High Lord had been hard on him, trying to repair everything his father had broken. You’re exponentially proud of him, however, your mate needs a break. You lean against the door frame of his study, clad in a silk nightgown and a barely-there robe. 

“Eris,” your voice breaks the quiet in the room like booming thunder. 

“One minute love, I promise.” He mutters, amber eyes scanning over another report or trade agreement. 

“Eris,” you try again, taking another step into the room. His eyes flick up to you for one second, the pupils going wide just a fraction. 

There’s no other tell that your husband wants to bend you over his desk, but every fire in the room burns hotter. 

“You look delectable, but I have to finish this.” He sounds mournful as he runs a hand through his hair. You hum, walking around to the back of his chair, and lazily draping your arms around his neck. Eris leans into your touch for a moment, exhaling a long sigh of relief. You drop a kiss onto his hairline as you rub circles into his shoulder planes. He practically purrs at your ministrations, melting into your soothing hands. 

“Take a break.” You mutter, planting kisses at the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear and he groans. “Let me take care of you, please.” 

“Are you asking or demanding?” Eris chuckles finally setting the documents down. 

“Your High Lady demands it,” You purr, “How about a massage?” You question and he hums his agreement, his eyes slipping shut as he lets you lead him away from his desk. Eris follows you like a man in a daze, blindly stumbling after your form like you’re leading him out of the underworld. When you finally enter your bedroom, Eris’s body almost crumbles in relief. He missed being in here with you, the comforting touches of the space you two share. You turn to face him and he’s knocked aback by your beauty, clad in your nightgown and robe as you begin to undo the buttons on his shirt. Finally, the fabric falls to the ground as you run your hands over the strong planes of his shoulders, down his biceps, and clasp his hands in yours. You press a featherlight kiss to his lips. 

“Lie on the bed,” You whisper against his lips, urging him backward toward the invitation of the soft mattress and cool sheets to fight against the ache in his bones. Eris follows your instructions leaning back on the bed and flipping over on his stomach. He feels your body, delicate and soft as you straddle his waist. You pause for a moment to uncork the bottle of sweet-scented oil before warming it in your hands and slathering it across his back. You run your hands across his back, skipping across like stones on water. Your fingers work each notch of his spine, trying to work out the knots that nest themselves between each vertebra. Eris wants to dissolve beneath your fingertips, forget everything he is, and all that weighs on his shoulders. 

The only thing he wants to be is your mate. That’s all he’s ever wanted anyway. 

He sighs letting himself sink down into the mattress as his mind finally settles. Eris has been so busy recently trying to rebuild the scraps of the court his bastard of a father left behind for him. You’ve been busy too, the newly established duties of High Lady eating a massive portion of your free time as well. You’ve missed each other, the restless golden thread is finally at peace now that you’re back in each other’s presence. After every knot in Eris’s back has been worked out, his eyes slipped shut and his breathing even you slip off his back and lie next to him on the bed. He reaches for you instantly, rolling onto his back and pulling you into his chest in one smooth movement. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles against your lips as he finally kisses you, sweetly and lovingly as he circles the back of your neck. You hum a response, deepening the kiss as you fist the sheets next to his head. You let yourself be kissed, enjoying the way he caresses your ribcage with a harpist's grace, gently plucking a tune in time with your sighs. Eris lays your head on his chest as he warms his hands, letting the fire in his veins soothe the cramping in the crook of your neck and shoulder blades, his other hand running the silk of your nightgown between his fingertips. 

“I’ve missed you,” You mumble into his chest and he noses along your hairline, taking a deep breath.  

“I miss you too, my love” Eris promises, “We will have more time once everything settles I swear.” You know he means it, and you can’t wait until everything settles down once more. Your eyes are beginning to slip shut, but Eris isn’t quite ready to let you drift into your dreams yet, too greedy for your presence. “Would you like some tea?” he asks, barely a whisper into the night and you nod against his chest. He slips away slowly, and you roll into the warm spot he left behind. He leaves the door open when he leaves, padding his way down to the kitchen instead of bothering a housekeeper so late at night. 

However, what he didn’t think of was that his hounds were also feeling neglected, and they missed their mother especially. Five of his hounds found their way into the room as soon as he left, quickly taking up their own territories on the bed. 

You didn’t protest as your personal favorite nestled his way underneath your arm. 

When Eris returned with two steaming mugs of tea he found himself ousted, and you fast asleep surrounded by a pack of sleeping dogs. Laughing to himself he set the mugs of tea down on the dresser, waving his hand to put out the candles in the room. He manages to worm his way back into the bed, rolling his eyes at the disgruntled sighs from the sleeping hound being moved. Eris finally fights his way onto his pillows and arm around your sleeping form as another dog lays its head across his lap. 

And for the first time in what feels like weeks, Eris Vanserra sleeps soundly. 

[m2ok]

Found Family

Simon “Ghost” Riley X M!reader

A/N: I accidentally deleted the ask for this fic 😭so (🐝) if you’re reading this I apologize I didn’t mean to delete it, but here you are my love 🫶

You didn’t typically pick your husband up from his stationed base, most times he insisted on flying home, but today was different. Simon had been gone for so long this time that you just couldn’t stand waiting for him to get off the plane only to take another hour to get to your shared house.

You had told him the previous week that you would be coming for him, he of course insisted that it wasn’t necessary and that he could just fly like always, but you were firm in your decision. You made it very clear that you were going to come get him, no arguments.

While you were beyond giddy to grab your husband, and meet his team, Simon was feeling the exact opposite. No one knew he was married, and to a man no less, they had no idea he had a partner at all. It wasn’t necessarily a secret, but he was a private man and they understood that. Plus he was worried that if more people knew it would put you in danger, and he wouldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t.

He was also worried about what you thought of them, what they thought of you. He knew it was a superficial thought, you’d barely ever interact with them, but he couldn’t help it. You were the love of his life, and his team was like his family. He didn’t want there to be tension between any of you for some weird reason.

He didn’t have much time to think as he saw a car drive up the dirt road, your car. He didn’t tell the boys about your arrival, in fact he planned on just throwing his bags in the trunk and leaving. You, however, were not going to let that happen.

You parked the car before swinging the door open, a wide smile on your face as the team came out to see who this new person was. You could tell they were on edge, their faces hardened and all their arms crossed against their chest as they watched you.

Much to their surprise, Ghost walked right on over to you and put his hands on your waist.

“Did you have to come here? I told you I could’ve taken the plane like normal” he grumbled, his hands rubbing little circles on your hips as you tilted your head to look up at him.

“Obviously I had to come. For one I missed you” you placed your own hands on his waist, giving it a little squeeze

“And for two I wanted to finally meet your team! I think I’ve been kept a secret for long enough”

“They’re a bunch of bastards, ya got plenty of friends at home why do ya need more?”

You just put your hand on his masked face, pushing him away from you gently as you made your way over to the team.

Their once defensive stance turned to one of confusion, Soap staring at you with wide eyes while Price had a shit eating little smirk on his face. Gaz was glancing between you and Ghost, still trying to figuring out what was going on.

You were already bouncing on your toes as you stuck your hand out to greet them.

“hi! I’m y/n. You must be Captain Price” you said as the man slowly grabbed yours, giving it a quick shake before letting go.

“Yeah, kid, I am. Who are you?” He questioned, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh-right. Duh” you said with a little laugh.

“I’m Simons husband” you said simply, watching as their mouths dropped open, their jaws practically on the floor.

“Husband?” Soap asked, to which you responded with a nod.

“But how-? You’re so” he gestured to you vaguely

“And he’s so” he gave the masked man a scowl

“Yeah well it wasn’t easy, he thought I was a spy at first sent to ‘infiltrate the team and take it down from the inside’ you should’ve seen the way he-“

“That’s enough” Simon said, quickly interrupting you before you could continue the story and embarrass him even more.

You just laughed it off, moving on to shake Gaz’s hand

“Kyle, right?” You asked to which he gave a little nod

You then, finally turned to soap, giving him a little smile

“And you must be Mr.MacTavish, I’ve heard a lot about you” you said as he shook your hand

“Mostly good things, don’t worry”

“Mostly?” He asked. He liked you already, Simon could tell. He didn’t know if that was a good thing, or an awful one.

You just gave him a wink before dropping his hand “I’ve heard a lot about all of you, honestly. I won’t get into it though. Not with Mr.grumpy around at least” you gestured towards your husband.

“Alright alright you met them, can we get going now?” He asked, trying to gently tug you back towards the car. He wanted to go home, wanted to cuddle up with you and have all of your attention.

“Aww don’t take him away so soon!” Soap protested “we just met the lad! At least let us get him something to eat after he drove all that way”

Simon didn’t even get a chance to reply as Soap took your arm and nearly dragged you inside, the rest of the team following close behind and leaving Ghost alone.

With a shake of his head and a grumble he made his way into the base, headed towards the common room where he knew they’d most likely be.

He nearly walked in, stopping himself as he saw you surrounded by the boys. You were telling stories about him at home, how sweet he was when he wasn’t at work, and while he wanted to stop you he didn’t have it in him too.

Not with the way the team was laughing, or how widely you were smiling. He leaned against the doorway, arms over his chest as he just…watched. He had his own little smile under the mask, content in just watching the people he loved most bonding.

He supposed he should’ve introduced you sooner, the team seemed to love you already, and he couldn’t help but feel bad that he blocked you off from this for so long.

With a soft sigh he walked over, taking a spot next to you as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and just leaned his head back on the couch. He didn’t have to leave right away, he could give you a little longer to have fun.

Letting you meet the team was a big step for him, and you were grateful that he took it. It was the last part of his life you were let into, and it was scary for him. It was just another thing that could make you want to leave him, but here you were. Having the time of your life with his little family.

He loved you, with his entire heart and soul. This just proved that you loved him exactly the same.

As always, requests are open

[yonaioana]

Can You do A Seth x Husband reader Smut

Where the reader Makes sure he's comfortable and He feels safe...and makes sure his trauma isn't triggered and is always gentle and soft whenever they have sex bcs the reader knows about what he experienced

I wanna know How Seth would react.

Thank you!

FINALLY DONE!! This took way longer than i wanted, i am so sorry, i am not good at writing smut so it takes way longer to write it compared to fluff. So the timeline is after everything that happened with Osiris, the start of the fanfic is plot because I dont write porn without plot.

WARNING: smut, oral,

You were like a god on the other side of ennead and seth kinda just ran away to escape Osiris and the others and basically ended up in your temple. You left ennead a long time ago due to some issues with the others and some of them belived you died or something but you just built yourself a temple like fortress far far away so none of the other gods had the power to hurt you.

So when Seth stumbled inside in his attempt to escape and you told him that no other god had power in that temple other than you he imedately asked if he could stay. Seeing the fearfull look in his eyes at the thought of going back you accepted immediately, you grew closer as time passed by, even asked him out on a date, wich scared him at first thinking you will start behaving like all the other bastards chasing him. To his surprise after asking you leave to give him space and time to think. He came to you a week later with a hesitant yes. You were overjoyed but didnt show it much, not to scare him away, you were a little more affectionate but still kept a safe distance. A little over a year pased since you started dating, you were going to propose and you were very confident he would say yes, a few months after you got toghether he started seeking out your love more and more. He was like a cat tho, sometimes he would look for you lay around you and wait for you to take the hint, a hug, a kiss or simple pats but hold him a little too long and he's pushing you off with all his strenght.

Meanwhile Seth was getting more relaxed day by day, he hasn't seen anyone else from ennead in so long they either gave up on looking for him, couldn't find him or you just didnt allow them to enter your temple. Whatever it was he loved spending time with you, tho he found it weird that you didnt make any sexual advances on him, only letting him do what he wanted or if you initiated anything it would be almost always you sucking him off while he was fingering himself. The moment he came you would get up and leave to take care of the problem on your own, you belived that if you ever lose control and go rough on him you will lose him, he would hate you, look at you with fear or discust, you just couldnt. Seth understood what you were doing, trying to protect him, but he wanted you buried deep inside of him but also didn't want to ask. He hoped you would understand what he wanted when he whiggled his hips in the air while you were cleaning him or how he would sit on your lap grinding on your thigh.

He found out about the proposal you were planing when he came looking for you only to see you surounded by servants that were preparing to go out for materials. You wanted to make the proposal special and you asked your servants to decorate the temple with flowers and pretty fabrics. Seth liked that you were making an effort for him but he also wanted to actually get to have sex with you before marrying you. So with his mind set on the ideea he snuck away from the preparations. That night while you were half asleep, reading some scrools he came in the room, a small bottle of oil behind his back. You looked up at him and put your scrolls away but when you tried to get up to make space for him he placed his hand on your shoulder, stoping you, and just sat in your lap. You hugged his waist like you always do. He started kissing you simultaneously moving his hips, soon you got hard, while you were kissing down his neck while he reached down for your cock, he lowered himself as your penis springed up. You could see his eyes, hungry and a little dazed, as he tried to take you in his mouth you held his face, silently asking if he was sure, he softly pushed your hands away and wrapped his mouth around it. You had to grip the sheets tight in order to hold yourself back from bucking your hips. You wanted to hold back, to let him have control while he was teasing your tip in hopes you lose it. After a few minutes of sucking he got a little frustrated and justas you were going to cum he got up. You wached as he lined himself over your dick, pulling out the oil bottle and stickin a finger in his ass. As he was preparing himself you grabed both your dicks rubbing them toghether. He gaspped, his legs giving out causing him to fall in your lap. His arms legs started shaking so you laid him down on the bed, now sitting right above him. He removed his hand spreading himself open for you. Pushing your tip slowly inside him he raised his arms to hold onto your shoulders. You kissed him softly while waiting for him to adjust, one of his hands travelled up to your scalp, giving you permission to start you pulled out a little before thrusting back, your eyes trained on his expresion. His precum dribling down on his stomach, after one particular thrust he pushed his hips into you until he bottomed out, his dick twiched violently. He begged you to go faster, and faster, he could feel you rubbing against his gspot but not quite hitting it, he needed more, more of you, he needed you to go harder. He suddenly pushed you down on your back and bottoming out again, le leaned down smashing his lips against yours as he continued a more brutal pace. He held your hands on either side of your head as you were hopelessly gazing into his eyes while he was bouncing on your cock. You were getting close and judging by the twiching of his dick you could tell he was right on the edge, his eyes rolling back, his mouth wide open trying to catch his breath, his nails slightly cutting into your shoulders. You reached up cupping his face in your hands and asked in a hushed voice " do you want me to pull out or can I cum inside???". Coming back from his daze, and furrowing his brows a little he said " don't you dare pull out". While yes it did remind him of the other times where he didn't really get a choice he knew you would stop the moment he said anything or even winced in pain no matter how close you are, and thats what he loved so much about you, he wanted you to replace those bad memories and realize that he wants you to be the only one for him. With a few more thrusts he came all over your and his chest, wrapping his trembling legs around your waist as you sat up to hold him better. You came soon after, letting Seth rest on your shoulder as you were coming back from you high. He was half asleep hugging your neck, you tried to pull out and he whined tightening his hold. Realizing he doesnt want you to pull out yet you opted for slowly laying down allowing him to fall asleep on your chest.

He woke up clean in his sleeping robes the room full of colourfull flowers and you on one knee at the head of the bed ( I dont know what the place where the nightstand stands is called) " Will you marry me?". He rolled to the edge of the bed closer to you extending his hand towards you allowing you to place the ring on his finger. Pulling you closer by your clothes into a kiss and dragging you down in bed with him" Don't you want to eat? The servants made some of our favourite" Seth laid his head on your chest and wrapped an arm around your waist wit a simple "later". You kissed his forehead while rubbing the back of his head, he looked up giving you a kiss.

" My beautiful husband"

[outalongtheedges]

Goose On Film

Part 2

“Oh so that’s where that picture went”, Maverick mumbled more to himself than to anyone in particular.

Not that the others would’ve cared much about what he had to say about an old picture on a corkboard in the Bradshaw’s study.

“Interesting. I thought I had lost that one”, Slider’s wife suddenly said beside him. “Should’ve known Goose took it back.”

Maverick nodded before reaching up to take the picture of him and Ice off the board. He’s had it inside of his wallet for the better part of 10 years before he had ‘lost it’.

“What do you think you’re doing there, Maverick?!”, Goose slapped his wrist before he could reach the picture. “It’s mine!”

Okay so to be fair Goose did take the picture and he also paid for them to be printed out but it still was a picture of Ice and Mav. So it made sense for Maverick to have it, right? Slider’s wife seemed to have been thinking the same thing judging by the way she eyed the photo of her husband.

“I know what you’re thinking, Pete Mitchell! Don’t even try it. It’s an important piece in my ‘Goose on Film’ series.”, Goose continued to argue with his best friend. “You got more than enough pictures of you and that blond bastard, don’t you think?”

Maverick rolled his eyes. He could never have enough pictures of him and Tom. Not in a million years could he have collected enough of them. And that picture in particular had been taken on Carole’s birthday in ‘92, and if you know anything about Carole’s birthday parties then you’d understand the significance of that photo. That Goose even managed to take a decent one of them was astounding.

Yeah okay Mav was looking down, reading god knows what and it was a little blurry, but Ice managed to look into the camera as if he’d never done anything else but model in his entire life.

“And you!”, Goose suddenly turned over to Mrs Kerner that had her fingers on one of the thumbtacks holding up her husbands picture, “Don’t even think about it! I’ve been to your house, the walls are full of pictures of Slider and his ugly mug!”

“But not this one. Look at how cute he looks…”, she looked the photo dreamily.

“I don’t know about Slider and cute.”, Goose and Mav said at the same time, questioning looks on their faces.

“Oh come on! You guys know what I mean!”

They did know, Goose and Mav could stare at their respective partners for hours and call them every term of endearment under the sun and wouldn’t get tired.

„Come on Goose!“, Maverick whined pointing at the picture. „Let me have it back. It doesn’t look nice enough for your photo books anymore anyways.“

„What exactly did you do with yours, Pete?“, Mrs Kerner asked with a raised brow, looking sceptical as ever. „Looks like you crumpled it up.“

„I had it in my wallet? And then on my plane.“

„You know what you’re right. They’re both in horrible condition.“, Goose sighed exasperatedly, „I still have the negatives. Take them and treat them horribly! No respect for my art!“

Slider’s wife took the picture down triumphantly and folded it up the way it probably had been for years. So did Mav, staring lovingly at the photo he had stared at every time he went up in his plane.

„You two are paying for the new prints I have to make!“

„Of course Nick, honey. I’ll pay for it“, Mrs Kerner chuckled and Maverick nodded along.

All of them knew they wouldn’t pay for the prints, not that Goose would care.

———

Masterlist Part 2

Another silly little manip and this time with a story?? I’m treating you and myself (mostly myself) with this one aren’t I?

Let me know what you lovely people think ✨🎈💕

Remember be nice and respectful, have a nice day and a good nights sleep.

[mlmxreader]

Home | Simon Ghost Riley x m!reader

anonymous asked: “The world will never know another man as amazing as you”with ghost please? Really love your writings and this giant of a man

summary: there's only one thing on Ghost's mind, and when he finally gets it, he's the happiest man in the world.

tws: swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Home.

The only thing that had been on Ghost's mind since he was told that the task force's job was done, finally able to go back home and to go back to the man he loved; he was fucking relieved, to say the least. Those stuck up yank bastards the task force was put with wouldn't understand, they were all glory chasers who had no idea about humanity; they mocked him every time he mentioned to Gaz or Price or Johnny that he was fucking glad to be going home.

To his own husband.

Sleeping in his own bed. Drinking the coffee he liked most in the world, made by his husband. No more uncomfortable hammocks and bunks, no more coffee that tasted like shit, no more forced small talk; he could bury himself in his puzzle books and in games of solitaire at the dinner table for hours on end while you sat nearby and did your own thing, an easy peace sneaking through.

Home. He couldn't fucking wait.

Sitting on the plane for hours was torture, constant questions about his husband that he didn't want to answer being thrown his way by stupid yanks; he didn't understand why his personal life was of such interest, couldn't understand why they wanted to know what Ghost did with his husband behind closed doors.

He was glad when the plane landed and the pilot said everyone could get off at last; he practically ran off, pushing soldiers aside as he fought to get onto the tarmac.

At least the taxi ride home was quiet, though, only soft jazz music playing over the car radio; the driver didn't talk much, Ghost wondered if they had any idea how fucking thankful he was for that. They asked him a few questions - where he was from, what he did for work, where he had come from.

The usual stuff anyone would expect of a cabbie, really; Ghost answered politely, but didn't give them too much information. He asked to be dropped around the corner.

He fumbled with his keys for a second, but the second the door unlocked, he chucked his bag inside, leaving it in the porch as he pressed on towards the kitchen; you were exactly where he had expected you to be, and he didn't waste any time in creeping up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you, a heavy sigh coming from the back of his throat.

"Oh, thank fuck."

"I take it your flight didn't go well," you chuckled, quickly turning around and returning the embrace as tightly as you could, inhaling his scent.

Ghost shook his head, grumbling quietly as he kept you so close to his body that he almost worried he might suffocate you; but he needed it, he needed to feel his husband in his arms again, needed to smell your cologne, needed to feel the way you held him tightly, needed to hear your voice.

He needed you. More than anything and anyone, more than everything else, he needed you.

"You would've kicked off," he murmured. "An American kept hitting on me, even when I told her I was married and had no interest in women anyway."

You laughed, shaking your head as you dared to pull away enough to get a proper look at him; he looked exhausted and frustrated, like he was about to collapse at any moment or fall asleep exactly where he stood. "Yeah, I probably would've kicked off... you look tired, rhith."

Ghost nodded. "Knackered."

"Why don't you go take a nap?" You asked him softly. "Get some rest."

But he shook his head as he backed you up against the nearest surface, leaning into you and resting his weight on you as he sighed heavily. "Later, I just need you."

You were happy to oblige, getting up on the counter and spreading your legs so he could stand between them, resting his head on your shoulder as he yawned softly and hugged you closely. "Y'know, I missed you a lot."

"I know," he nodded. "Feelin's mutual."

You scoffed, resting against him as you hummed softly, closing your eyes and listening to him breathe for a moment; it was soft and shallow, the kind of breaths that came when someone was in a deep sleep, steady and calm. The way he breathed reminded you of rivers that swallowed the whispers of the wind and bathed in the sun with an olive coloured smile.

For a while, you both stayed like that, revelling in being together again and being close once more; making up for all the time you had missed one another far too much, familiarising yourselves with scents and feelings all over again. Wanting nothing more than to simply be close once again.

But then Ghost pulled away, looking up at you with a pleading gaze as he sighed heavily. "Can you make me a coffee?"

You nodded, grinning as you softly raked a hand through his hair. "I thought you'd never ask."

He stepped aside, letting you get down before he attached himself to your back, resting his chin on your shoulder as you went about making two cups of coffee; he was always so clingy when he came back from deployment and when he was about to leave. You loved that about him; the same as you loved the way he always cuddled into you at night and held you so close.

You didn't even think of handing it to him as he let go of you partially to grab the mug, chuckling softly when he realised what the design was; it was an older mug of yours, one that you had bought him for your first anniversary when you were only dating, long before your nikkah. It was his favourite.

It was black, with a print of a greyhound on it; you had gotten it from a charity who were doing a fundraiser and selling merchandise to raise money for ex-racing greyhounds who needed to be rescued and prevented from being abused further. Ghost always donated to the charity when he could, greyhounds were his favourite dog.

He sighed heavily, gently drumming his fingers against you for a split second. "Y'know, the world will never know another man as amazing as you."

You scoffed. "You're such a softie, y'know."

Ghost grumbled. "Only for you..."

Home.

He was finally home, and he couldn't be happier. The man he loved so much was right against him, making his favourite coffee in his favourite mug; nothing could make him happier.

[kckt88]

Gēlenka Zaldrīzes III.

Summary:

Events of Dynasty through Aemond's POV.

Warning(s): Grief, Worry, Anger, Threats of Violence, Mention of Child Loss, Mentions of Sex, Child Birth, Blood.

Word Count: 3100.

Author Note: A companion piece to Courtship/Wedding & Consummation/Bath Time/Arrival(s)/Mother & Father/Petitions & Final Tributes/The Hand, The King & The Dragon/Dragonstone/Blood & Cheese/A Time for Grief/ Rooks Rest & the Silver King/The Gullet/Taking of a City/Harrenhal and the Rivers/The Gods Eye/The Fallen Queen/New Beginnings/Ravenous/Don't Leave Me/Another Plane of Existence/Gēlenka Zaldrīzes I & Gēlenka Zaldrīzes II.

But can be read as a one-shot.

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

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Aemond was staring at Vaera like she had three heads.

His sweet wife, who was heavy with their child, had just decided to inform him that she had beseeched the King for clemency on behalf of her bastard brother Jacaerys.

“He doesn’t deserve one single ounce of your kindness”.

“Nothing will ever change my love, not unless we are the ones who are willing to make those changes” whispered Vaera as she pressed her face against his chest.

“But he-“

“-Please Valzȳrys. My term is almost upon us, and I want to rejoice in the birth of our child, not spend it inciting another war” replied Vaera (Husband).

“Like the bastard could muster up anyone to support his cause” muttered Aemond rolling his eye.

“Cregan Stark would and with him the rest of the North would follow” whispered Vaera.

“Pfft, the Lord of Winterfell is of little concern to me”.

“He swore an oath to my mother, the Stark’s are honourable men” said Vaera quietly as she fiddled with a buckle on his tunic.

“I’ll introduce him to Vhagar, let’s see how honourable the northern dog is then”.

“Cregan Stark is of no concern, now that Jace has bent the knee” muttered Vaera.

“He what?” exclaimed Aemond.

“Aegon the younger and Viserys were offered in exchange”.

“Has my brother lost his wits” gasped Aemond.

“What other fate could have befallen the boys? They are but children, innocent of their parents crimes”.

“Children who will grown into men” whispered Aemond.

“Aegon also granted Jace possession of Dragonstone”.

“The ancestral seat of house Targaryen has the wine finally addled his brain?” asked Aemond.

“Jace needs somewhere to live, or would you rather have him here in the Red Keep?”

“I’d rather chew glass” quipped Aemond.

“Look, I know this isn’t ideal, but we must accept it” breathed Vaera.

“Why do I feel like there’s something else you need to tell me?”

“Jace has asked that the King legitimize Cregan Stark’s younger sister Sara-” said Vaera.

“-And the point of that is?” asked Aemond.

“Surely, you’ve heard the rumours my love. Sara Snow is currently with child”.

“Bastards producing more bastards. Not exactly the sort of palace gossip I keep up to date with. I couldn’t give one single shit about where your brother sticks his cock” said Aemond.

“Aegon wanted Jace to bend the knee and he has. He’s been made aware of the consequences if he dares to entertain even the briefest of notions about reclaiming the Iron Throne. Aegon and Viserys will be executed in front of him” replied Vaera.

“I still don’t like it. My brother should just execute the lot of them and be done with it”.

“I’m tired of all the death Aemond, I just want to be at peace with our children” said Vaera.

Aemond knew he was fighting a losing battle.

Deep down he wanted exactly what his wife wanted. The war had taken so much from them, and he just wanted to look to the future.

But before that could happen there was still much to be done.

Reconstituting the council had been an arduous task, but somehow Aegon had managed it. Of course, having two of the largest dragons in the world in his corner helped to move things along.

But Aegon ruffled a few feathers, when he named Aemond as Hand of the King, Vaera his Mistress of Laws and offered Jeyne Arryn a place on the council.

Of course his generosity with Jacaerys didn't go down to well either, there were those that believed Rhaenyra's last strong bastard should be cast to the winds and exiled across the narrow sea with his bastard wife and offspring. But Aegon was unmoved and many on the council chastised the King being too soft hearted.

Clearly Aegon wasn’t finished with his little revelations as he had refused point blank to take another wife and sire anymore children and he also casually announced to his entire council that he was naming Rhaegar as heir to the Iron Throne and betrothing him to his daughter Jaehaera.

He had planned on having an official ceremony, but that would have to wait as Vaera had begun her labours.

Aemond hated seeing his wife in pain.

It made his heartbreak to know there wasn’t anything he could do.

“I-I can’t do this,” cried Vaera.

“Yes, you can” exclaimed Aemond as he climbed onto the bed at sat behind Vaera.

“W-What are you doing?” muttered Vaera.

“Lean against me and take my hands” urged Aemond as he pulled Vaera between his open legs.

“A-Aemond” gasped Vaera.

“Now, you squeeze my hands as hard as you like” said Aemond.

Vaera was sweaty and exhausted, but she took a deep breath and as the next contraction ripped across her stomach, she pushed.

“FUCK!”

"Keep going my sweet you’re doing great" said Aemond.

"I'M GOING TO CUT YOUR COCK OFF!" screamed Vaera.

"Oh, my love, surely you don't mean that".

"I do. This is ALL your fault,” cried Vaera.

"Another push Princess" 

“I swear if you say push one more time. I'll feed you too my Cannibal” snarled Vaera.

“The head is out Princess, but I need you to stop pushing. The cord is wrapped around the babe’s neck” exclaimed Maester Munkun.

“W-What” cried Vaera in alarm.

“It’s ok. Issa dōna ābrazȳrys. Just breathe” said Aemond (My sweet wife).

After a few moments, the Maester had managed to cut the cord from the babe’s neck and with a wet squelch the babe arrived.

But the room was silent.

“M-My babe?” asked Vaera her hands raised in expectation of receiving her babe.

“Just a moment” replied Maester Munkun as the babe was lifted off the bed.

“What’s happening?” yelled Vaera, her hands still grasping endlessly for her babe.

“Why is the babe not crying? What’s happening?” exclaimed Aemond.

“Aemond” sobbed Vaera, her entire body shaking.

But Aemond could only sit in silence as he watched the Maester try to save his newly born babe.

Vaera began wailing loudly in anguish, as the seconds passed.

Aemond’s heart was in his throat as the Maester did everything he could to stimulate the silent babe.

“No. Please. Don’t take my babe. Not again. I can’t lose another babe” sobbed Vaera.

Aemond buried his face in Vaera’s shoulder as he tried to stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks.

The wait was agony. His babe unmoving and lifeless in the arms of the Maester.

But then the sweetest sound in the world echoed around the room.

A loud shrieking cry.

“A daughter” declared the Maester.

Vaera all but snatched the crying babe away from Maester Munkun and sobbed.

“T-Thank you Maester” breathed Vaera, the tears streaming down her face.

“Your welcome Princess” replied Maester Munkun.

“S-She’s ok. Aemond, look” gasped Vaera.

Aemond let out a sob of relief as he gazed at his squalling daughter.

“My daughter. She’s ok. She’s alive. Thank the gods” gasped Aemond.

“She’s beautiful” cried Vaera as she stroked her daughter’s head.

“What shall we call her?” asked Aemond.

“Vharla” whispered Vaera.

“A-After my dragon?”

“I know how much Vhagar means too you and I wish to honour your old girl” replied Vaera.

Aemond’s heart burst with pride.

“So perfect” whispered Vaera.

“I’m so proud of you Issa prūmia” (my heart).

“I love you” muttered Vaera.

“-And I love you. My sweet perfect wife.” praised Aemond as he nuzzled Vaera’s neck.

“Would you like you hold your daughter?”

“Please” whispered Aemond as he manoeuvred himself away from Vaera and climbed off the bed.

Their daughter. They’d almost lost her. But she’s here. She’s safe.

Nestled in her father’s arms, Vharla had opened her eyes and Aemond’s heart stopped.

Those eyes. The colour of dark amethyst.

Exactly like her big brother’s.

She had Aemon’s eyes.

Their next babe, a boy named Caelan in honour of the Cannibal arrived in the world with relative ease, according to Aemond anyway.

As soon as he was delivered, the boy cried so loud that Aemond was sure the entire population of Kings Landing could hear him.

Caelan was such an easy babe, he slept and remained content as long as he was fed, warm and kept entertained.

He seemed to have developed a fascination with Rhaegar and would only sleep if his older brother was close by.

Which of course made Rhaegar feel special.

Vharla of course was indifferent and didn’t care for the drooling stinker she had to call brother.

Given they were so close in age, you’d think that they would get along, but sadly they didn’t as Vharla preferred to spend time with her grandmother most days.

Aegar’s birth however now that was eventful.

Vaera had gone beyond her term and there were some concerns expressed by the Maester’s over the health of both mother and babe, but Vaera remained steadfast in her view that the boy would simply come when he was ready.

Of course, doing things to help him along wasn’t an issue either as Aemond regularly found himself pressed against the bed as his wife rode him like a dragon.

Not that he minded at all, any excuse to stick his cock inside his wife was good enough for him.

On the day of Aegar’s birth, Vaera had been attending a council meeting with Aegon over some new tax laws that he wanted to implement. The other council members were not required to attend which in hindsight was probably a good thing.

Vaera had been experiencing pain on and off for most of the morning, but nothing seemed to progress, until of course she heard the splash of her water’s breaking and not even an hour later, Vaera was perched on the council table as she gave birth.

With no time to summon the Maester’s or midwives, Aegon had to be the one to support Vaera through the pain and ultimately help deliver the babe.

Upon his return from flying with Vhagar, Aemond was racing to the council chambers, to be greeted by the sounds of a crying babe.

Aemond would never forget the look on his older brother’s face as he leant against the wall, his hands shaking and his face much paler than usual.

Aegon admittedly saw more of Vaera that day than he ever wanted too.

But in the spirit of names, Vaera decided to honour her good brother, and named the babe Aegar.

Aegon was so unbelievably happy that he threw a celebration so grand that he was still recovering from the effects of the wine that he’d consumed almost a week later.

Maella was the next babe to be born, she didn’t cry at all. Not even when she was born, she was such a quite little thing, that Aemond often had to put his hand on her to make sure she was breathing.

Even though she was almost six name days older, Vharla had more of a positive opinion of her little sister, she didn't refer to her as drooling stinker which was quite positive.

Now she wasn’t the only girl, and it pleased her immensely.

Rhaegar as the oldest took it in his stride, another member of the family to love and cherish.

As much as he would join his father in his training sessions, he would also spend time with his mother and help take care of the newest babe.

He would spend hours sitting by Maella’s cradle, reading to her, and telling her about Aemon.

When Aemon had died, Rhaegar had only been two name days old, but he remembered his brother so vividly, that it was almost like he was still here.

Caelan of course followed Rhaegar everywhere, idolising his older brother and Aegar just liked to dig around in the gardens looking for bugs.

Which kept both Aemond and Vaera on their toes as more than once he tried to eat them.

Jaerys was the next babe too arrive, born in the middle of one of the worst storms that Kings Landing had ever seen.

Which of course Vaera attributed to his fearsome nature. Even on the day he was born, it always seemed like he had this perpetual scowl on his face that never seemed to go way unless he was with his grandmother.

He definitely had a soft spot for her, and he would often be found sitting beside her as she told him stories and taught him how to braid hair.

Alicent loved all her grandchildren, but she definitely had a soft spot for Jaerys.

Aemond and Vaera had believed Jaerys was their last babe, but after a nightly dragon flight, a ravenous husband and a lapse in memory over taking moontea, Vaera was with child again.

Aegon of course made sure his brother knew that the people of Kings Landing were raising their cups, in celebration of his virility and his wife’s fertility.

Aemond of course had to resist the urge to punch his brother in the face, after he told him.

As with the other births, Aemond naturally assumed this one would go just as well.

How wrong he was.

After Vaera had surprised him and birth another set of twins, she began to bleed heavily.

It began flowing out of her like a river, spilling in every direction.

The Maester’s worked frantically, trying to save her and whilst they were successful, Vaera had slipped into a coma.

For almost thirteen name days, Vaera had been a constant presence in his life, and to suddenly not have her there anymore, he felt lost.

As each day passed and Vaera still didn’t wake up, Aemond could feel himself slowly dying inside.

He was nothing without her. He needed her like he needed the air to breathe.

Aemond knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. He shut himself off and spent hours at Vaera’s bedside praying to any god that was listening.

“Please come back to me my love”.

Yet she remained unmoved, her chest rising up and down slowly. Her eyes firmly shut.

He was afraid that they would never open.

What would he tell their children?

How could he go on living if she didn’t make it?

A world without her didn’t make sense.

For three weeks, Vaera remained unresponsive.

The Maester’s had said that the longer she remained in such a state, she wasn’t likely to wake up.

Aemond despaired at the news.

He was going to lose her. His sweet wife. The love of his life. His twin flame.

At some point in the night, he’d laid on the bed next to her and pressed his face into the crook of her neck.

He begged her to come back. But still she slept, at some point he’d fallen asleep, his hand clasping hers.

Every night it was the same dream, and every morning it was the same nightmare.

But this night, something moved against his hand, and he jerked awake.

Aemond stared in shock as Vaera’s fingers were moving.

At first, he thought he was imagining it, but then Vaera’s eyes began to flutter.

“V-Vaera” exclaimed Aemond.

Is she waking up? That’s it my sweet. Come back to me. You can do it.

“Vaera. Issa dōna ābrazȳrys” gasped Aemond (My sweet wife).

“A-A-Ae-m-mond” stuttered Vaera as she finally opened her eyes.

“I’m here my love. I’m here” whispered Aemond.

After being in a coma for three weeks, it took Vaera some time to fully recover.

She told Aemond about her experience whilst she was in the coma, and it fascinated him to no end.

Especially when she told him that Rhaegar would become King just after his eighteenth name day.

The gods had certainly given Vaera a gift, and she had thanked them for it every day since.

It was a phenomenon that Aemond couldn’t even begin to understand or explain, but they had both decided to keep it between the two of them.

Especially when she told him of Aemon and Helaena.

Despite the circumstances, she had briefly held their precious first born in her arms once more and Aemond knew in his heart that it was his son and sweet sister that had sent Vaera back to him.

Even though Aemond protested wholeheartedly, Vaera resumed her place on the council as Mistress of Laws three moons after she’d woke from her coma.

Saeryna and Daenys were growing fast, and soon they would be reaching their first name day.

It took a little while for Vaera to fully bond with her twin daughters, but they eventually got the hang of it, and now they would crawl after their mother as fast as they could, giggling sweetly.

Aemond watched with a smile as his wife was surrounded by their children, this was everything she’d ever wanted.

During her childhood, she’d been so lonely and Vaera never wanted that for any of their children.

This was a family they’d created and none of their children would suffer as they did.

“Marry me” whispered Aemond.

“We’re already married” replied Vaera.

“In the tradition of our house. Let us bind our blood as our ancestors once did” said Aemond.

“Who’s going to marry us?” asked Vaera.

“I’ve asked Aegon, as anyone who can speak high Valyrian can wed us” said Aemond.

“Ser Criston and my mother will serve as witnesses” said Aemond.

“Where will the ceremony take place?”

“In front of Balerion’s skull. The children will also be in attendance” said Aemond.

“You seem to have given this some thought”.

“I’ve been thinking of it for a while” replied Aemond.

“In that case. I will marry you. Again” said Vaera softly.

“Hen lanoti ānogar, Va sȳndroti vaedroma, Mēro perzot gīhoti, Elēdroma āirza sīr, Izulī amapā perzi, Prumī lanti sēteksi, Hen jenȳ māzīlarion, Qēlossa ozundesi, Syndroro ono jēdo, Rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi”

(Blood of two, Joined as one, Ghostly flame and song of shadows, Two hearts as embers, Forged in fourteen fires, A future promised in glass, The stars stand witness, The vow spoken through time, Of darkness and light)

Aemond and Vaera each took turns in cutting the other’s lip with a dragon glass blade and marking each other’s forehead with the symbols of fire and blood.

Aemond cuts his hand and then offers the blade to Vaera who did the same.

As they face each other once more, both husband and wife join hands allowing their blood to flow into one another.

Once the vows are complete, they allowed their blood to mix with a kiss.

A loud booming roar echoed across the sky as Vhagar and Cannibal flew over the Red Keep, the other dragons soon join in and Kings Landing is alight with sounds of a dragons song, unlike anybody has ever heard before.

As they part, Vaera and Aemond gaze upon one another. All their children surrounding them.

“Will you love me Aemond, until the day I die?” asked Vaera.

“No. Much longer than that Vaera. Much longer” replied Aemond as he took his wife’s face in his hands and kissed her once more.

[hazashiovo]

Had it coming

Aegon x reader

(Giving him a taste of his own medicine)

Fem!Dom, Sub!Aegon, Reader not wanting children, drinking, sexual themes, and idk what else to add, forced marriage?

You never wanted this. Never wanted to be married especially to him.

You don't want to produce heirs for a man like him or be known as his wife, not even be seen in the same room. But it's all their fault , your parents didn't care about your happiness or well being, they only saw you as a pawn in their game.

Theyarriee you off to Aegon in return for an alliance with the Targaryens.

He consumed alcohol, had whores and bastards all around King's Landing, yet you were expected to be a obeying wife? Give him children he wouldn't even care about or know they're there?

No. You're gonna live the way you want.

You're gonna drink until you can't anymore, you'll talk to whoever you want and won't have more than a child. You're gonna prove him he won't have his way.

After your marriage he was drunk and unable to even know your name.

Each morning he wasn't present to breakfast,most of the time he wasn't even in the castle, you've heard he was a loyal client of street of silk.

Soon enough you slowly started drinking, some might say you were a match.

It was clear Alicent regretted marrying you off to him.

One night, Aegon drunkly stumbled upon you, and a knight in your bed.

He was furious, raging even, so it's no shock when the screaming match began, you weren't just gonna stand there and have him yell at you for the exact same thing he does.

-You're a Whore! Daring to bring another man in the bed you share with your husband!-

He shiuted at you, sluring on his words.

-You have no right to call me a Whore!how many bastards do you have?! How many whores had you fucked?!

Your scream louder than his, at that point he realised you're fiercer than he tought, it made him feel small next to you, a woman with a strong will.

-You dare yell at me for a thing you do each day! So I suggest you keep your mouth shut, instead of making more if a fool of yourself.-

You started dressing yourself up, not allowing him watch your naked body anymore. You grabbed the goblet of wine you had next to your bed and drank it down.

You passed by him when he caught your arm.

-where are you going?-

You glared at him.

-For a walk, go to sleep.-

You pulled your arm away from him and left him in the dark chambers.

The next day you were dressing up for breakfast you saw him sprawled over the bed, in a deep slumber.

-such a waste of a pretty face.-

You muttered, it was truly a shame, he could have made a fine prince.

You sighed and left the chambers.

At breakfast, Alicent brought the subject of children.

-It's been some time since the two of you married, when will you gift me some grandchildren, my dear?-

Well that pissed you of , she saw the way you and Aegon were system she had hopes for children?

-It's not a matter of when, it's a matter of "if". If I remember correctly there is no actual need of heirs for Aegon, after all, Rhanyra is the Heir of king Viserys, am I right?-

Alicents face was shocked, she didn't expect you to react that way.

-after all, I wouldn't want to have a deadbeat of a husband as father for my children... And I'm not the type to love, children.-

You continued, you weren't planing to do what everyone expected of you, you'd rather die than become a pupet, like you've heard Alicent become.

Alicent's face priceless.

After that she didn't say anything.

You finished your meal and excused yourself from the table.

Later that day you were with Aemond, you enjoyed his company. His and Helena's, but she was at dragon stone with her bethrothed, Jacaerys.

You felt good at the reply you gave Alicent.

Feeling tired and in needing of some relaxing, you called the maids to set a bath for you.

That same time Aegon stumbled, drunk, again in your chambers.

-Well look at that.-

You sighed in annoyance, yet stripped naked and sinked in the hot bathing water.

You sent the maid away, wishing to wash yourself.

You didn't like people touching you.

From across the room, you saw Aegon standing there, looking at you, more to say, your body.

-Don't act like you haven't seen a woman's body before Aegon.-

He didn't look away, he kept watching your every move shamelessly.

-I haven't seen yours before.-

his drunken voice broke the silence.

-good, go to sleep.-

you returned to washing your body,you saw how he eye fucked you.

-Go now,-

You waved him off like a mother would do to her child.

Aegon decided to disobey and move towards you, leaning on your tub now.

Your eyes looked into his.

-What do you want, child.-

And advantage you have as being older than him with five years.

He looked you up and down.

-You, I can have as many whores as I wish but I don't think they feel like you..-

You chuckled and leaned your head back.

-You can't always have what you want, and don't you ever compare me to your whores. -

Your hands ran through your hair, sighing,noticing how Aegon wanted to touch you.

You grabbed his wrists violently.

-Can't you listen brat?-

Your stern voice filled his ears. One hand grabbed his jaw tight.

-I need you...-

Aegon voice soft , a whimper.

-Find yourself a maid.-

The hand you had on his jaw released, pushing his face away.

-No maid could satisfy me anymore, I want, no I need to have you, please!-

He beggs, you look at his disheveled hair and face.

-Why would I do that?Do you think you are worthy or deserve it?-

Aegon stays quiet, knowing the answer to that.

-that's what I thought, now tell me, why would I fuck you? Your cock's been trough every woman that's crossed your eyes beside your mother and the old septa.-

You looked at his expression, he's not used to being denied things.

You take his face in your hand gently, your faces so close to each other.

The prince moved closer to your face, nose touching yours.

One hand behind his head, playing with his hair , the other resting on his face, caresing his beautiful features.

Your lips close the space with his, giving him a sweet kiss, that he linged so dearly for.

The white haired raised one of his hands to cup your face, the other wanted to touch your chest.

You slapped his hand away from your torso, opening your eyes to give him a warning look.

You pulled away against his wishes.

-No, I will not grant your wish until you prove yourself to be worthy for my love, affection and body.-

You pushed the boy away, deciding your bath is done.

You get up, revealing your whole body to, that's for short of course since you put on your robe.

Once again, you left the prince lustful and longing.

.

.

Sooo I wrote something for Aegon to!

I think I'll make this a second part, perhaps with smut? If he deserves it of course, I'm also thinking of ideas for my Aemond fic that you can check out on my page, until than, who wants a request you can ask!

Byeeee!

[tngrace]

Baby K

For the lovely @callsign-dragonbaron 💙 enjoy darling 😉 also ignore any medical inaccuracies or anything like that. This is just a soft fluffy fic 😍

You had been with a Tom a little over two years when he'd proposed to you. You'd met while he was at Top Gun, and continued dating once he'd graduated. It was the sweetest proposal ever and you were over the moon. You two agreed on a quick wedding before he had to deploy out again, and before you knew it, you were Mrs. Tom Kazansky. Deployments were hard, but you wrote letters back and forth constantly, and he called every chance he got. Most calls ended with Slider yelling down the phone telling you how sickeningly moping Tom would get later into deployment and how he couldn't wait to get the grumpy bastard gome to you. Honestly you loved your husband's big idiot of a best friend and RIO and truly appreciated him looking out for Tom.

Tom had been home from deployment for two weeks and you'd spent the majority of that two weeks in bed and at your house. Reconnecting was always one of the best parts from deployment in your opinion, and after two years of them, you figured you were the expert on what was best about them.

You'd just gotten up to go fix dinner when his arms snaked around your waist pulling you back into his chest making you giggle.

"Let's go out tonight," he murmurs nipping at your jawline and neck. "Let me show you off. Besides Slider's bugging the hell out of me to catch up."

You turn in his arms linking your hands behind his head. "Hmmm alright. I'll take date night with your best friend."

"You're the best wife ever." He gives you another searing kiss before dragging you to the shower. Dinner with Slider and his girl was always a joyous affair and tonight was no different. At the end of the night the boys gave you both the best gift they could offer; they were taking a teaching stint at Top Gun with Maverick and Goose and would be staying home for the foreseeable future.

Six weeks later you'd be so grateful to have Tom home because while you had not been planning on expanding the family any time soon, you also were a little excited to find out you were expecting.

Thankfully you ended up having an easy pregnancy, and it helped that Tom, and all the flyboys really, doted on you constantly. You were spoiled to no ends with attention and affection, and you didn't even have to lift a finger in putting the nursery together. You just got to sit back and supervise. Slider promised once the baby was here, and you two decided on a theme for the nursery, he would come back and paint anything you wanted on the walls, finally putting all his doodling and art skills to work.

You both had decided not to find out what you were having much to the displeasure of the flyboys. You still ended up with several stuffed planes and toys and a plane mobile for the crib, the boys claiming if you had a baby girl she was gonna be a daddy's girl and would love the planes anyways. You knew your baby was going to be spoiled silly and have all these flyboys wrapped around his or her little fingers.

The day you went into labor was rather eventful. Tom and Ron were in the air doing a hop, so you left a message with Viper who insisted on sending Mav to drive you to the hospital so you weren't alone. He promised to get the other two down and on their way stat. You had everything ready when Mav got there, and you were honestly surprised with how steady and calm he was. Tom had caught a ride with Ron that morning so Mav helped you into the jeep and headed to the hospital.

Tom and Ron ran in not twenty minutes after you'd gotten settled in the room, both still in their flight suits. "You two could've showered and changed." You chuckled when you got twin scowls from them. Tom came over to your side, leaning down giving you a soft kiss, his hand finding your belly and giving it a rub.

"How are you feeling?" He murmurs, his forehead resting against yours as he just breathed you in reassuring himself that you were fine.

"I'm ok. Pain's not too bad yet. They checked me when I got here. Waters already broke and I'm at 6cm. Hopefully we won't have to wait too long." You cradle his face, giving him another reassuring smile and kiss before he slowly pulls back. He pulls a chair close so he stays by your bed and holds your hand.

"We're gonna go call the others. We'll be in the waiting room," Ron assures once he knows you both are good, as he and Mav head out the door.

Labor progresses steadily and as your pain increases, Tom tries to get you to take an epidural, but your fear of needles keeps you from it, insisting you can do this. Turns out you were right, and despite Tom hating seeing you in so much pain, he was also so damn proud of how you handled bringing your baby into the world.

After holding your screaming baby, as the nurses rubbed her off, all your pain was forgotten and tears rolled down your cheeks. Tom’s forehead rested against yours as he watched you two. "It's a girl," he murmurs, before the nurses take her to clean her up. He cradles your face and gives you the longest kiss, wiping your tears. "I'm so fucking proud of you," he whispers.

They bring her back all clean and swaddled up. "Daddy?" The nurse asks, before passing the bundle over to him. You absolutely melt against the bed once the baby is in his arms. She looks so tiny against him, and you wish you had a Polaroid to snap a picture of Tom's face. It's almost identical to the look he had when you walked down the aisle to him to say "I do." His smile takes up almost his whole face and you see his teary eyes.

"She's perfect," he murmurs, sliding onto the edge of your bed, the rest of the world forgotten for the moment. You're exhausted, but you can't take your eyes off him. "Just like her daddy," you tease. He finally lays back beside you when you move around to make room. Your head rests on his shoulder as you watch him softly rubbing her cheek.

Her big blue eyes open and just stare up at him as he softly coos to her. "Hi baby girl. We love you so much." She wiggles around a little and yawns before her eyes close again snuggled over her daddy's heartbeat.

"Think we've decided on a name?" You murmur softly, feeling yourself drifting as well.

"Think so," he whispers back. He softly kisses your forehead. "Gonna show her off to the boys. You rest and I'll be right back."

"Mmmk," you hum. He waits until he's sure you're sleeping before he carefully gets up. He cradles his baby girl protectively before heading out to the waiting room. Slider, Mav, Goose, Carole Bradley, Hollywood and Wolf are all there spread out waiting, Bradley bouncing in Mav's lap as he tries to keep him entertained. Chipper and Sunny are coming down the hallway with an assortment of snacks, picking up their pace when they see him. The flyboys all gather round, softly cooing over the baby.

Tom bends down to let Bradley see once he gets impatient. "Meet Abigail Kennedy," he tells Bradley who just stares at her in awe.

"Woah.... she's tiny," the six year old says softly being careful not to reach out to touch her or anything.

"Yea she is. She's gonna need you to teach her the ways once she's bigger and help look out for her. Think you can do that?"

Bradley nods giving Tom the biggest smile. "Promise Uncle Ice. I'll be her bestest friend."

"I know ya will," he grins as he stands back up. He assures them you're doing well and resting and that they can see you later. Two days later, your little family of three is home. Tom takes a full week off work to stay home with you and Abigail, and the flyboys pop in when they can. You won't say your family is complete just yet, but it feels damn near perfect in this moment.

[zahri-melitor]

Christmas with the Super-Heroes #2

This is an issue of all-new stories, meaning I finally get away from TT Christmas Carol. And fascinatingly, this set are actually all quite reflective and less relentlessly cheerful and madcap than your average Christmas story. I highly recommend, even though there are no Real Santas in this set.

Superman: Ex-Machina – honestly this story was gentle as it sat with the pain inside it, and the silences, and what people don’t want to discuss. It’s more powerful in the way both Superman and the main character don’t want to spell out their situations more than necessary.

Batman: And in the Depths – another story about grief, revolving around the Cave and those who enter it. I really really like this, as the text helps, but it also works as a story of pictures. Also love a robin (bird) in front of Jason’s memorial case moment.

Wonder Woman: Gifts – Christmas at the Kapatelis', with Diana and one of Julia's good friends, Pastor Sharon Jackson. It's a very ecumenical comic, discussing the foundations of belief and service in the face of abandonment and despair, but it also has this amazingly adorable panel with Diana in an apron working out how cookie cutters work.

Enemy Ace: Silent Night – a proper no-text comic! This one is set during Christmas 1916 at an Allied hospital somewhere in Europe. They're out of supplies and a German war ace lands his plane and delivers a parcel of food for Christmas dinner. He's both thanked and threatened by various staff and patients of the hospital. It's very The 1914 Christmas Truce. (Excuse me I need to go play What's a Few Men by Hunters & Collectors a few times)

The Flash and Green Lantern: An Old-Fashioned Christmas – this is a flashback Barry and Hal comic, heads up, despite the date of the special. And yes, it's a comic where Ollie gives Hal Das Kapital (spelt Das Capital apparently in the DCU).

After Monitor Duty Barry and Hal go to visit a town that seems very depressed at the thought of Christmas as it's 'not like it used to be' and nobody believes in Santa. They run into C.B. Fenster "one of the richest men on Earth" who just wants a good Christmas and for someone to prove for him Santa exists. Hal and Barry decide to do this... by getting Fenster to dress up as Santa and setting up a sleigh to go and deliver presents to various households!

Yes. Amazing picture isn't it.

The first few deliveries don't go too well for Fenster, but then he comes across a woman struggling to put the kids bikes together on Christmas Eve. Her husband ordered them and then conveniently died 6 months ago, causing every parent's favourite holiday game "build the big present out of sight of the kids". Fenster helps and feels pretty good about it. From then on he comes across a bunch of other people who really just need someone to lend a hand and some time.

And Fenster, Barry and Hal reach the moral that often, people just want someone who cares and who cares to listen.

Deadman: Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot – Boston apparently likes to jump into the biggest rich bastard's body he can find right before Christmas and use their money to buy Christmas presents for people and do some good deeds. Honestly, that tracks.

Then he steals someone else's Christmas party by riding them the whole time (as he's feeling lonely).

Then Boston runs into pre-Crisis Kara Zor-El, looking VERY cute.

Boston discusses his feelings of loneliness with Kara, and she delivers a few home truths about being a hero:

"We do it because it needs to be done. Because if we don't, no one else will. And we do it even if no one knows what we've done. Even if no one knows we exist. Even if no one remembers we ever existed." "Yeah. I guess we do. Look, don't mind me. I'm just a putz sometimes, you know?" "No, You're only human. You are still human, Boston. Don't be ashamed of it; Rejoice in it. Because it means your spirit -- as flawed or selfish as our spirits can sometimes be -- is still alive."

And then she's like "Surprise! I'm Kara!" to make it clear for the audience. Boston of course does not recognise her, because COIE.

(You shoulda gone and talked to Psycho Pirate instead, Kara, and gotten recognised then)

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dungeon:  The Rot of the Jaw

The long abandoned remnants of a spelljamming warship have come to rest in a sunken cavern, leaking all manner of alien oddness into the wilds that has now begun to reach up to the party’s homeland. Though the potential savlage from this ship is great so too is the danger lurking within, both in the form of the ship’s ancient defences and the secret they have stayed online to protect.

Hooks:

Under the protection and benefit of the crown, an esoteric group of monks in the high hills are known for keeping an artifact known as “the verdant bed” a sarcophagus like device rumoured to be able to cure any illness. Known for charging exorbitant prices for access to the bed, the monks have recently closed their doors to even the most giving of petitioners, leaving a wealthy merchant and his increasingly ill husband in a lurch. Desperate for answers if not solutions, the merchant is willing to pay the party to sneak into the abbey and discover what the monks are hiding.

Something, as it turns out, is deathly wrong with the bed. Where once it sapped away sickness leaving behind only a coating of crumbling green lichen on those it healed, the bed now overflows with a russet mold that is slowly overtaking the abbey and all within. Worse yet, the mold is producing crude huamnoid fungus monsters that seem mindlessly intent on feeding more people to the bed and spreading thier blight. The monks have them barricaded to a specific section of the abbey for now, but give it to the heroes to blunder in and unleash the mould upon the populace.  

The bed is but one of many wondrous devices Scattered about the realm are wondrous devices scattered around the realm with uncertain origins: magical cannons that can shoot dragons out of the sky, person sized fabric cocoons that can send a dreaming individual’s perceptions to far off places in just a blink, all held by covetous hands. To find a means of repairing the bed, its up to the players ( and some helpful archives staff) to research where these devices came from, and to discover that their source is deep underground in some forboding place called “ the hollow”

Background: Though it exists in a sorry state today, the vessel known as the Mandible of Hydax (crude translation) was once a force to be reckoned with, its living stone hull quarried from the body of a fossilized god, bristling with weapons under the direction of a gith warlord who was the terror of the astral sea

Hydax was just as fearsome as her ship, a self styled “tyrant for hire”, she, her mercenary crew, and her warship would contract out for any body of extradimensional oligarchs who didn’t have the strength to put a boot to the neck of their lessers, breaking strikes, defeating rebellions, and ensuring the peasants kept doing their job. This was until Hydax was hired to go after who she and her superiors thought was merely a unusually fucked up spellcaster but was in fact a Kaorti, an emissary of the far realm possessed of terrifying, reality warping powers.   Hydax managed to get her quarry in a cage, and was just in the process of finding a nice void rift to throw the bastard into when the Kaotri ripped them from the astral sea, overriding the ship’s spelljamming helm and throwing them at the nearest material plane ( the party’s home) with enough force to bury the ship beneath the skin of the world like shrapnel. 

Challenges & Complications:

The subterranean path required to reach the Mandible are a hazard unto themselves, with many requiring perilous detours to avoid cave ins and other geological instabilities caused by the ship’s impact. The inhabitants are likewise dangerous, including more than one band of cave-things wielding weapons salvaged from the gith crew or the Mandible itself.

Hydax’s ship contains all manner of wonders and dangers, raging from an arsenal of unearthly weapons and other memorabilia to an archive of (centuries out of date) information regarding the goings on of many alien worlds. Perhaps most valuable of all is the ship’s spelljamming helm, which could be refitted into a new vessel to allow the party to explore the stars. Removing it however may trigger any number of defences, ranging from malfunctioning constructs to a curse from the long dead captain, wraith against any who would loot her prized ship.

The Kaorti, for its part, is still stuck within its cage at the heart of the ship, unable to break the seals that hold it there trapped and undying. It has instead flung its consciousness out into the surrounding caves, directing the unwitting inhabitants to act as its guards and search witlessly for a means to free it.  The party will be better tools by far, and the ghostly presence of the aberrant mage will pretend to be a malfunctioning ship AI, seeming to help them with their goal while leading them to free it.

[strawberry-tuesdhays]

GRABS U. i am looking at u with my giant autistic eyes. demons??? and the guys who have contracts with them??? what is going on there i am intrigued 👀👀👀👀

ok ok so this is gonna be long, so prepare yourself :)

The Setting:

the setting is vaguely historical fantasy, with demons, who interact with humanity, and angels, who cut themselves off decades ago. they sealed themselves off, in their own plane of existence, leaving only their blessings behind

(the angels were supposedly better than the demons, but they still weren't exactly "good." being involved with a higher power is never really safe)

humans can generally only use magic through runes and potions, and it's expensive and hard to learn. the exception is when a human has an angelic blessing, or a demonic contract, then they can use more powerful and intuitive kinds of magic

The Characters:

[put character lineup here]

The Painter: a demon, whose main interest is collecting and maintaining beautiful things (and people)

The Magpie: a human, formerly a maid in a nobleman's manor. they're currently part of The Painter's Gallery (read: a living dress up doll) and occasionally do errands for The Painter

The Puppeteer: a demon, whose main interest is having power and control over people. they're in charge of organized crime in some way

The Pawn: a human, also referred to as Bunny. they were an illegitimate child of a nobleman, and are now the Puppeteer's right hand man. they can also detect lies, due to one of their ancestors having an angelic blessing

The Arsonist: a demon, whose main interest is burning shit down, with or without people still inside

The Gardener: a demon, whose main interest is messing with people, to see what makes them work. (they might seem the most benign, but they do enjoy pushing people to their limits, just to see them break down)

Magpie's backstory:

they were a maid for some noble, which wasn't good, per se, but it was a job. they had a good friend working with them, so it was tolerable.

the lord of the house and his trophy husband liked to throw parties, and it was at one of these parties that Magpie accidentally caught the Painter's attention.

The Painter offered them a contract. they'd get magic, and a life of relative luxury, in exchange for becoming part of The Gallery. Magpie refused, since the benefits weren't worth the loss of autonomy (at least not yet, but The Painter left the offer open).

eventually, tragedy struck. Magpie's friend was killed by the trophy husband being petty, and pushing him down the stairs.

this broke Magpie, and in their grief and rage, they decided to summon The Painter and take them up on their offer. the deal ended up being the guaranteed death of the nobles, the guaranteed safety of the rest of the house staff, and the destruction of the house, in exchange for Magpie essentially giving up their autonomy to The Painter

Magpie isn't exactly happy as part of The Gallery, but they don't regret taking the deal either

side notes:

- their name wasn't always Magpie, it's the name they took after the contract gave them magpie wings

- they're generally very serious, and in control, so when they get angry, they Get Angry

Bunny's backstory

Bunny was a somewhat neglected bastard child, the product of an affair, and they had to fight tooth and nail for any kind of respect.

at some point, they got fed up with being ignored, so they went to The Puppeteer, asking for a job. they insisted on talking directly to the Puppeteer, knowing their ability to detect lies would get them to the top pretty quickly.

unfortunately, they didn't realize it made them far too useful to let go, so they got coerced into an indefinite contract.

it wasn't what they asked for, but they got what they wanted, in the end. they got their power and respect, and nobody can stop them from beating the shit out of people who annoy them, so who who are they to complain?

side notes:

- they're mad all the time. just always ready to throw hands

- The Puppeteer thinks it's funny to make Bunny sit in their lap, like a villain with a lap cat

[yonemurishiroku]

nO BUT WHAT IF IT WAS HERA/JUNO WHO PULLED JASON BACK FROM DEATH?? like after Apollo leaves Piper on that beach with his body Hera shows up like "Well now we can't have my champion looking like this now can we?" And summons his spirit back and says "I'm not done with you yet" and says if he agrees to become a god and do her bidding, she will protect Piper the best she can so of course Jason agrees. Then Piper is threatened into secrecy and the coffin she brings back on the plane is actually empty. WHAT IF.

……….Hera really needs to fix her Heracles problem. As in, if I had a dime for every time she adopts a bastard of her husband’s, makes him a hero, makes him him immortal as her trophy champions then I’d have two dimes - which are not a lot, but it feels problematic.

That is to say: this is intriguing LOL. It also provides a reason as to why Jason would accept immortality. Always the selfless type, isn’t he, smh. An empty coffin is a… strangely enthralling concept, too.

And the fact that Jason is, now, bound to obey Juno’s every command is… exhilarating, to say the least. It truly opens up a lot of different scenarios as to what would transpire afterwards. Would Jason be a loyal prawn to the gods - a callous warrior or a mindless puppet? Or, would he break someday and be the most terrifying foe? Would he still be able to be a Pontifex when the meaning of it is to connect gods and demigods/mortals? How would the others react? Would Piper try to break the bind by, idk, charm-speak maybe? Or get rid of herself because she’s the price anw——okay that’s enough.

Another interesting about this, tho, is how Hades would probably react to the fact that a son of his brother’s is strip off death by the will of Juno alone - considering how he appeared to be very strict about rules of life and death.

[wellthebardsdead]

Shimada coffee and a familiar face?? ~Bambi

———

Sojiro: *quietly cleaning the counter of his cafe, finally healthier both physically and mentally after a lot of therapy, a lot of help and a lot of love from his fiancé’s and his new friends and found family* Do you think it’ll stay quiet long enough for us to have lunch little sparrow??

Genji: *in his play pen stacking blocks* ABEHBEH! (Translation: Unlikely! Look sharp!)

Sojiro: yes I think so too-

*Bell chime!)

Sojiro: *turns to face the door* Good morning come on-… Asa?… *drops the cloth and hurries around the counter taking off his apron as he goes*

Asa: *a young woman with a neat bob hair cut, holding a very fussy baby girl in her arms* Sojiro?? It’s you? It’s really you?? Your hair?! You shaved-

Sojiro: *suddenly hugs her and pulls back looking at the baby* It’s me! It’s you and??? Whose this?

Asa: Kiriko… my daughter…

Sojiro: daughter… *smiles looking at her* she’s got your smile, your grandmas eyes though. She’ll be a handful when she’s bigger-

Asa: Sojiro.

Sojiro: *looks at her, face turning from excitement to concern* …Why are you here?…

Asa: we need to talk… it’s important…

*A few hours and several cups of coffee later*

Sojiro: *holding kiri while Asa holds Genji* So the clan… destroyed the shrine…

Asa: *chokes back a sob* I managed to save the offerings, the fox is with us, with me and kiriko… my husband nearly died, we barely made it onto the plane. Your uncles tried to take kiriko from us, they only want shrines to the dragons now but since you left so did the dragons, all of the ayakashi except the Kitsune left…

Sojiro: they think getting rid of the fox will bring the dragons back… *scowls with an angry smirk* Narcissistic bastards… of course they wouldn’t realise the dragons don’t deem them worthy…

Asa: *nods looking heartbroken and lost* Sojiro I… I know I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t ask, it’s too much to ask for, but I have no money, my husband and I can barely afford a hotel and I need to feed my Kiki but… if I don’t make a new shrine for the Kitsune soon then- then-

Sojiro: *takes her hand* Asa. You know nothing is too much to ask of me. You were there for my wife and I when I couldn’t trust anybody… Whatever you need, I’ll serve you as you’ve served my family-

*Bell chime!*

Jack: *staggers in dressed in his strike commander gear* I got your text! We’re here!! Gabes parking the c-

Asa: *still thinking Sojiro is a wanted yakuza, quickly stands up handing him Genji and pulling out a knife from her boot* RUN SOJIRO!!!

Sojiro: *sitting there smiling holding both babies*

Asa: WHY ARENT YOU RUNNING?! GO!!

Jack: …She doesn’t know?

Sojiro: she doesn’t.

Jack: ah, I see. I’m his fiancé.

Asa: Oh.

Gabe: *Peeps out from behind Jack* um, I am too.

Asa: I?… okay.

[newtonsheffield]

Omg Kate pregnant and flying planes around like a total badass this is amazing!!

Also the amount of time they must spend apart while Kate’s flying from place to place, it must make their reunions that much better!! 🥺🥰

They do spend a lot of time apart from one another and it wasn’t so bad when they were both flying, because a lot of the time they’d end up on the same schedule, like a little crew, flying the same routes. But when they started thinking seriously about kids they knew one of them had to stop. One of them had to stay for the kids and it made sense for Anthony to do it.

For one, he desperately wanted to. He’d been telling Kate he wants to be a stay at home dad for as long as they’ve been together but also, Kate makes more money than him, and while they don’t really need it at all, it just made sense. And Anthony’s happy to do it. He loves his kids and he loves his wife but of course he misses her when she’s not there.

But it makes him hold on to every second they have together. Every time he sees her step through arrivals at Heathrow his heart pounds in his chest and it feels like the first time he ever saw her. When he darts forward with his flowers and little Neddy on his hip and spins his wife around right there in front of everyone he’d never give this up for anything.

“Why don’t you ever do shit like that for me?!” A passenger hissed at her husband as they stared at them. “And she’s a pilot! They do this every second day!”

“Home?” Anthony ignored them as he handed their son off to Kate who was already running her hands through his curly hair, kissing his forehead.

“Home.” She agreed, darting forward to steal another kiss from him covering Neddy’s ears for a moment. “I picked up something a little bit sexy for you to look at.”

Anthony let out a dramatic gasp “Captain Sharma, well I never.”

“Oh you always.”

“Very proudly, actually. Car’s this way.”

“No hello Edwina, old friend, can I offer you a lift home? I notice!” His sister in law’s voice rang out behind him.

Anthony turned back towards her, rolling his eyes, “If you would just call your girlfriend you’d have a lift home.”

“I- She’s- Josie’s not my girlfriend.”

“Exactly! Fucking call her!”

“I never should have encouraged this!” She called back as Kate laughed, waving Edmund’s hand back at her sister. “In love Anthony is a smug bastard!”

“Yes! He is!”