#// you cannot tell me that somehow would make him smile out of the blue; and look at her endearingly
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21 Days - Day 15
Something inside of Xavier has shifted. You canât quite define it or give it a name, but you can sense it, see it in every glance and feel it in every touch. He is not the same man he was yesterday.
What a difference a day can make.
The change isn't anything obviousâmost things haven't changed at all. He is as shy and sweet and earnest as he has always been. He still blushes when you touch him, he still pouts when you tease him, and he is still playful and warm.
But the shadow behind his eyes, the hint of sadness in his smile, is disappearing. There is a growing certainty in him that was not there before, as if he has made a choice -some choice- and it has freed him in a way that seems to extend beyond just his secrets.
It's absurd, but you can't shake the thought that he chose you yesterdayâthat, somehow, you were always a choice he had to make. You donât even know what the alternative might have been, but now, when he looks at you, the affection in his eyes feels complete, as if itâs here to stay.
Maybe his fevered promise not to leave again was truly meant for you after all. But that only raises more questionsâhad he been planning to leave you? And when did he leave the first time?
If you were the choice, then what was the other option?
He has remained tight lipped about this particular detail - unwilling to share any part of it. Other small secrets about his past have trickled out in fragments over the past 24 hoursânever fully explained and always a little vague, but still unmistakably genuine. Heâs trying to open up, and youâre trying your best not to push him. The rest will come later, you tell yourself.
In the meantime, you have a much more immediate issue to deal with.
There is no other way to put it - Xavier has become adorably, maddeningly clingy. He hasnât let you stray more than an armâs length since yesterday, and if he weren't so infuriatingly old fashioned, you're pretty sure he'd have slept with his cock buried deep inside you last night. Instead, heâd settled for holding you close, your back pressed firmly to his chest, with his hand resting possessively between your thighs.
Itâs not exactly a bad thing; in fact, you love him even more like this. Every time he teleports to your side instead of walking, you canât help but laugh, as if the seconds saved are simply too precious for him to waste. You marvel at the confidence in his touch now, the way he explored your body this morning like he owns it. And you fall even deeper for him every time he willingly gives you some crumb of information about who he really is.
You're savoring every moment with him and wish you could pause time and stay like this, just the two of you, forever. But you have a plan today - one that he cannot be a part of because it would spoil the surprise.
"Xavier," You whisper, trying to pull away from his insistent kisses, "I really do have to go soon. I have to check in with Jenna. In person this time. You know how she feels about being kept waiting."
Xavier acts as if he didnât hear you, keeping you pinned firmly against the front door. His lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, biting gently before soothing it with a warm flick of his tongue. By now, heâs already delayed you at least ten minutes with those distracting, lingering kissesâreminders of just how skilled he is with his mouth.
"Xavier," you say more firmly.
He huffs as he pulls back just far enough for his blue eyes to lock onto yours, and the pout in them is nearly enough to break you.
"Why are you calling me that?" He asks, his forehead dropping to yours as he holds you to him, his nose rubbing against yours.
"What?"
"You usually call me Xav now. Or bunny."
A soft laugh escapes your lips at his confused, slightly pouty tone. "Xavier⊠Xav, I really need toâ"
"But...," He protests, ducking his head to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck again. "Let's go together. We're partners. I go where you go."
"It's supposed to be 24-hour surveillance, Xav. You know we both can't go. We already agreed on this yesterday."
"Yesterday was yesterday. Can't we make a new agreement today?"
The whine in his voice is killing you, but you really do want to surprise him. This birthday needs to be special; he deserves to feel special.
"Not this time, Xav."
Xavier's mouth trails down to your neck, each kiss sending a spark through you as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you firmly against him. You have to bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning as you feel the insistent press of his hardness against you, even through the layers of clothing.
"Are you sure you donât want to reconsider?" he murmurs, his voice a low, promising whisper.
His mouth is pure temptation against your skin, making it hard to remember why you need to leave. But there will be time for this laterâhopefully endless time, forever, if you have anything to say about it.
"Bunny, please." You breathe out, threading your fingers through his hair to gently tug his greedy lips away from your skin. "I have to get going. I'm going to be late."
Xavier pulls back and fixes you with the saddest puppy dog eyes that have ever existed. "I can't believe you'd actually...leave me alone in this house."
"I'll make it up to you when I get home, I promise. And I won't be gone long."
Xavier sighs and nods as his arms tighten around your waist. He lets out a defeated groan, and mumbles, "How long?"
"It's just a few hours. I'll be back before you know it." You smile gently at the boyish sulk that has spread across his face as he continues to mope and press small kisses along your jaw.
Finally he gives in and lets out a heavy sigh that fans out along your skin. âAlright,â he grumbles, releasing his hold on your waist and taking a step back.
The small bit of distance clears your head just enough, and you shake it slightly, trying to dispel the lingering desire coursing through you. God, this man has you so wrapped around his finger that you can barely think straight.
You flash him a quick smile and turn to open the door, but pause, throwing him a puzzled look as he moves to follow you.
"Xav, you know you canât come with me, right?" you say, a mix of amusement and exasperation in your voice.
He nods, pulling the door open and gesturing for you to go ahead, slipping an arm around your waist as he guides you through. "I know," he says with a grin. "Iâm just escorting you to the station. Iâm allowed to do that, arenât I?"
Itâs hard to believe that the man who used to vanish for days, even though he was just next door, now canât imagine being apart from you for more than a few hours. Itâs a clinginess youâre not used toânot from him, not from anyoneâbut oddly, it doesnât bother you. Thereâs something deeply comforting about being wanted this much, and you canât help but hope it never changes.
"Iâll miss you," you say, rising on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Xavierâs cheek as your train pulls into the station. "And try not to blow up the house while Iâm gone, alright?"
He looks like he wants to argue, his hand tightening around yours, but then his eyes soften, and he gives you a gentle smile, slipping into his practiced, fake-husband role. âCome back soon, Mrs. Shen. Stay safe.â
Heâs an exceptionally good fake husband. So convincing, in fact, that the word itselfâfakeâirritates you as it echoes in your mind on the train ride into the city. Your marriage to him is fake, yet with each passing day, it feels more real. The thought of it ending⊠It's almost unthinkable.
As soon as you step off the train and into the city, your plan for the day begins to unravel. The check-in with Jenna is mercifully brief, but her urgency to wrap up this mission leaves you tense and uneasy as you navigate sidewalks that are already too slick for comfort.
Snow in October is a rarity in Linkon, but here it isâthick, heavy flakes falling from the sky, dusting the sidewalks in a thin layer of white. Itâs beautiful, but bitterly cold, and you're not dressed nearly warm enough for it.
You shiver as you wander from shop to shop, collecting things for Xavierâs birthday. A surprise party had crossed your mind, but inviting a bunch of fellow hunters to your covert mission apartment didnât exactly scream discreet. So instead, youâve opted for something simplerâsomething you hope heâll love, even if it has the potential to set the place on fire.
But if it makes him happy? It just might be worth the risk.
The cake ingredients were easy enough to acquire, but the decorations were trickier, the items scattered throughout the city, rather than all together in one single shop. By the time you finish collecting everything for the perfect birthday cake, you're freezing and damp with snow.Â
The warmth of the nearby cafe and the promise of something sweet was impossible to resist, and you sigh with relief as you dump your shopping bags onto a table and strip off your cold, damp jacket. A steaming cup of hot chocolate and three macarons later, your phone buzzes in your purse. You dig through the clutter of your wallet and keys to find your phone. It vibrates in your hand again as you pick it up and the screen glows with a notification:
(4) Voice Messages from Xavier
Xavier: Is it snowing there?
Xavier: We ran out of vinegar. Can you get some on your way home?
Xavier: Are you on your way back yet?
Xavier: Are you talking to someone outside right now?
You try not to smile at your phone like an idiot, but you fail as warmth floods through you at the sound of his voice. Itâs amazing how a handful of words can make you feel so secure. There's something foreign but comforting about having someone care for you like this - someone waiting for you to get home. It's been a long time since you've had such a simple luxury, and you hadn't realized how much you've missed it.
You: I have to stop and pick up a few more things. But I'll be home soon.
Xavier: What do you want for dinner?
You're contemplating the least disastrous option as footsteps approach your table, and you glance up just in time to see a familiar face.
"Fancy meeting you here, miss bodyguard. There are easier ways to find me, you know. You don't have to stalk me." Rafayel smirks.
He slides into the chair across from you, meeting your wide-eyed gaze as he casually plucks a green macaron from your plate and takes a bite.
Has he always looked like that? you wonder as he flashes you a playful, disarming smile.
Seeing Rafayel is like looking at a masterpieceâheâs almost too perfect, so striking itâs hard to believe heâs real. You thought youâd grown used to his looks ages ago, that you had built up a certain immunity to it. But a few weeks apart have undone that, leaving you vulnerable to his effortless charm again.
Xavier is undeniably handsome, but Rafayelâeven dressed simply in a sweater and dark pantsâis goddamned majestic.
"Raf! Hey! Uh, what...what are you doing here?" You manage, surprised.
He's wearing his signature look of lazy amusement. His inky purple hair is slightly damp from snow, and he runs a hand through it as he takes another bite of your dessert.
"What do you mean? I come here all of the time. Shouldn't I be asking you that question? You're supposed to be locked away somewhere trying to catch a bad guy, yeah?"
"Oh, shut up. I haven't been locked away; the mission is just taking a while. I came into town today for a mission update." You say, and wave toward your bags, "and some shopping."
His eyes flick toward your bags, narrowing on the pastel letters spelling 'Happy Birthday' across the card that's peeking out.
"Mission update, hm? Interesting," he drawls as he pops the remaining bit of macaron in his mouth. "I'm surprised you escaped your tower, your highness. You haven't really bothered to respond to my texts for the past week. I was starting to think you'd been captured or that you got possessed by Wanderers or something."
"Uh," you stammer, quickly sliding another bag over the one he's eyeing, shifting awkwardly in your chair. "Sorry about that. Iâve just been... really busy."
Though his tone is playful, there's a hint of hurt beneath it that tugs at your heart, just as it always does. Heâd deny it until he was blue in the face, but you know he canât stand feeling ignoredâand it sucks to know you're the reason for it this time.
He shrugs and leans back, draping his arms across the back of his chair as he casually crosses an ankle over his knee. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Secret missions and saving the world and whatever. Same as always."
The tired sound of resignation in his voice makes your smile falter, and you can only guess at what's really going on behind those galaxy eyes of his.
After countless late-night phone calls, you used to wonder if there might be something real between you and Rafayel. He was a flirtâthat much had been clear from the startâand youâd brushed off his advances, wary of reading too much into them. But sometimes, when it was just the two of you, when the flirting grew a little more heated or the light touches became bolder and hungrier, you were almost certain there was something more. That he felt it, too.
But he never took it further, and the moment would fade as if it had never happened at all.
It doesnât matter now, you remind yourself, tearing your gaze away to stare out the window. The sky has darkened, snow falling steadily against the glass, and your train will be leaving soon. Whatever might have been between you is just a memory nowâone you are scared to dwell on any longer.
"We'll catch up when my mission is over, okay?" You swear, rushing the words as you stand up and shove your jacket on, reaching for the bags on the floor. "I'll come over, you can tell me all about your newest exhibit, and we'll make fun of Thomas together. I pinky promise."
"What?" His eyes widen, and he quickly stands, reaching out to still your hand as you go for another bag. "Youâre leaving already? You just got here."
"Rafâ" You sigh, guilt gnawing at you for more than one reason. Xavier is waiting. "I really do have to go. My train leaves soon."
His grip tightens around your wrist, his warm hand almost scorching hot as he stares at you with a rare flash of desperation in his eyes. It makes him look vulnerable for just a fraction of a moment, and something inside you tightens, torn between the urge to ease the ache you've caused in him and the need to put distance between yourself and old feelings youâd rather not think about.
"Let me walk you to your stop then," he says, his tone light and easy, but he's still holding your hand prisoner. His suggestion isnât really a suggestionâitâs more of a demand.
"Fine," You say, rolling your eyes dramatically even as a smile forces its way onto your face. "But make yourself useful. Help me carry this stuff."
Rafayel grins and lets go of your wrist, bending to scoop up most of the bags. "Jeez, these are pretty heavy. I better get some kind of awesome reward for all of this labor."
A chill wind and swirling snowflakes greet you as you step out of the cafĂ©, making you mutter a curse under your breath. If youâd known it was going to snow, youâd have worn a real coat.
"I hate snow," you grumble as you fall into step beside him.
"What do you mean?" he grins, bumping your hip with his. "Snow is like magic. Look around!"Â
He gestures to the snow-dusted trees and buildings blanketed in white. "Each flake is unique, perfect in its own way, turning everything ordinary into something miraculous, if only for a moment. And...it also looks really pretty in your hair."
His enthusiasm is infectious, and his words make you feel warm despite the chill wind cutting through the thin material of your jacket. Maybe you donât actually hate snow after all.
The walk to the station goes by in a blur as you catch up on the last two weeks: gossiping neighbors, Thomas, how cold the city is this year, his new exhibition, your boring surveillance workâkeeping it light and casual.
It almost feels like nothing has changedâthe two of you chatting, him cracking jokes and teasing you to get a reaction, and the way your stomach flutters every time he brushes against you. He doesnât do that by accident; you're sure of it.
A pang of longing hits as you realize just how much youâve missed this. Despite how he gets under your skin like no one else, his friendship means more than youâd ever care to admit.Â
Yes, he drives you crazy, and your feelings for him are confusingâbut heâs always had this way of making the world seem brighter, lighter, and somehow more beautiful than you could ever see it on your own.
"It's so cold. Iâm frozen solid," you declare, setting your bags down on the bench outside the train station. Youâre about ten minutes early, and the air is only getting colder. Your fingers sting with the chill, and you blow on them in a vain attempt to warm up.
Rafayel sets the rest of the bags beside yours with a chuckle, shaking his head, "You're right, it is cold. Too cold for my delicate hands." He pouts, his brows knitting together as he exaggerates a shiver and opens his arms wide. âHold me.â
"Raf..." You laugh, amused and exasperated.
"Come on, cutie. Don't you know how body heat works?" He quirks a brow, stepping toward you. "You wouldn't let me freeze to death, would you?"
His smile is dazzling, effortlessly charming, and completely irresistibleâthe kind that melts your resolve into a mushy mess. Itâs the sort of smile that can't be refused.
You reluctantly return his smile, already mostly deaf to the alarm bells ringing in your ears, and step into his embrace. âOkay, okay. Just for a little while.â
Rafayel laughs, a warm sound rumbling through his chest as he wraps one arm tightly around you, pulling you close. With his other hand, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, his cold fingers brushing gently over your cheek and neck. The sharp, clean scent of himâcitrus and sea saltâfills your senses as you lean into him, soaking in his warmth.
The alarm in the back of your mind grows louder, more frantic, the closer you get. Yet the soft thrum of his heartbeat, syncing with yours, drowns it out, and the warmth of his breath against your skin is enough to silence the knot of warning you feel in your stomach. The familiar scent that clings to him wraps around you like a shield, blocking out even the smallest of doubts.
"Hold still," he says softly, his fingers threading through your hair as he gently combs it out. "You've got snowflakes in your hair."
A sarcastic remark hovers on the tip of your tongueâof course you have snowflakes in your hair, he does too, it's snowingâbut the warmth in his eyes as he strokes your hair holds you silent. His fingers are gentle as he carefully smooths your hair back even as more snowflakes continue to fall, and he leans even closer to see his task clearly in the dim evening light.
Your cheeks flush as he moves closer, leaning into you, and a familiar warmth builds inside of you, making it hard to breathe evenly. You turn your head away from his hand, but he frowns and gently cups your cheek, tilting your face up to his.
"Hey," he scolds gently, "I'm not done. Don't move."
But his hand doesnât return to your hair. Instead, he gently caresses your reddening cheek, a soft smile spreading across his face. "You're being pretty shy," he murmurs.
And you are. No sarcastic remarks or witty comebacks come to mind, not with the way heâs pressed against you, the softness of his touch on your cheek, and with his face so close to yours. The only sound you can make is a quiet hum that doesn't mean anything at all.
His eyes roam from your cheek to your ears and down to your neck, and he slides his hand along the same path. "Hmm. Your cheeks, and your ears, and even your neck...are all so cold. Do you want me to help warm you up?"
Itâs not just warmth in his eyes anymore; itâs heat, and your stomach flips as he drops the tone of his voice to a low purr. The feel of his warm breath against the side of your neck makes your pulse quicken and your own breath catches in your throat.
"Is it working?" He whispers, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks.
You nod, barely breathing, as the heat that has built inside of you threatens to ignite into a blaze, your body trembling as you press against him.
âWhat about here?â Rafayel asks, shifting to the other side of your neck. His warm breath caresses your cool skin before he nuzzles close, trailing slow, lingering kisses from your ear to your neck.
Heâs never kissed you before; of that, youâre certain. Yet somehow, in this moment, itâs as if youâre reliving a memory. His warmth, his scent, his touch, the way his body presses against yoursâit feels natural, achingly familiar, as if youâve known it all along. You could lose yourself here, drown in the sensation, and never surface again.
Youâre trembling, but not from the cold, as Rafayel pulls back, his hands gently cupping your face. âYouâre so quiet,â he says, his voice laced with curiosity. âI haven't the slightest idea of whatâs going on in that head of yours. Have my awesome heating skills truly rendered you speechless?â
All you can manage is a shaky laugh, more like a breathless gasp, unable to form a single coherent word as a wave of déjà vu hits you, overwhelming and intense.
"Looking at my bodyguard..." He pauses, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "I can't tell if she's happy right now..." Leaning in, he brushes a soft kiss against the corner of your lips, then locks eyes with you. "Or maybe she's not?"
You stare, wide-eyed, unable to break free from the grip of the dizzying familiarity of this allâ frozen in place by how deeply, unexplainably right it all feels.
"Raf, I..." You trail off, lost for words, unsure of what you're trying to express, but knowing you have to say something. Anything. That you can't do this with him, or that you need more of him. Or that, sometimes, two things can be true.
Before you can untangle your thoughts or find the words to express your conflicted feelings, he silences you with a kiss. Itâs gentle at first, tentativeâhis lips brushing softly against yours. Then the kiss deepens, his mouth pressing to yours with an intensity that feels raw, as if the longing comes from the depths of his soul.
Youâre drowning now, clinging to him as if heâs your anchor amid the waves of emotion and memory crashing over you. For a moment, time and space collapse, and it feels like this has always been your life, as if this is just one second in a lifetime spent with him like this.
But the brush of his tongue against yours snaps you back to reality, and you tense in his arms, your hand moving to the back of his neck to gently pull him away.
"What?" he whispers, breaking the kiss as he rests his forehead against yours. "Do you want me to stop?"
His voice sounds so tender and hopeful that it breaks your heart a little, and your stomach twists with guilt as you lean away from his embrace.
In another life, youâd beg him to keep going. In another universe, youâd be his completelyâmind, body, and soul. You can feel the way his heart calls your name.
But not this life; not in this universe. In all of the world, there is only one call your heart answers to, and it is Xavier's.
âRaf,â you whisper, your voice soft and aching, âIâm so sorry, butââ
"I know what you're going to say," Raf cuts you off before you even finish, hurt replacing the warmth in his eyes, "Sooo you don't have to say it."
He drops his hands from your face and steps back, and the cold wind that cuts through you is nothing compared to the burning ache flaring to life in your chest.
He runs a hand through his hair, shaking loose a few snowflakes, and lets out a bitter laugh. âI guess things with the âfakeâ husband arenât so fake anymore, yeah?â
"I love him," you admit, the words escaping before you can stop them, leaving you stunned. Youâd never said it out loud before, never dared to voice what you felt. But now itâs out, and there's no taking it back.
Rafayel laughs again, a choked sound that gets stuck in his throat, and looks up at the sky as if searching for an answer there. After a moment, he groans softly before his eyes return to yours, "Oh, that intense, huh?"
You nod, silent, unwilling to say anything more for fear of deepening the hurt in his eyes. The few feet of space between you feel insurmountable, and you itch to close the distance, to reach out and comfort him somehow.
Rafayel sighs, his hand motioning toward the empty air, as if Xavier were standing here, too. "Is he... is he better than me?"
"No, Raf," You groan, the ache in your heart burning even brighter, "He's not better. It's just...different. I can't explain it."
Rafayel looks away again, his lips pressing together in a tight line, before turning back to you with an uncharacteristic seriousness in his eyes. "Just...promise you won't forget about me, okay?"
Tears sting your cheeks, and the hurt, desperate sound of his plea is all the proof you need to understand that a broken heart can keep breaking.
"Oh, Raf, I could never forget about you," you promise, stepping closer. You reach for his arm just as the train pulls into the station, the loudspeaker announcing its arrival.
"I wonât," you swear, ignoring the blaring sound. "Never."
He steps back from your outstretched fingers, and his voice and eyes harden as he replies, "You will. You always do."
The train stops, passengers streaming past, and you open your mouth, trying to reassure himâbut no words come. A wave of uncertainty hits as his cryptic words echo in your mind, and you fail to make sense of them.
The option to reach for him, to pull him close and comfort him, is stolen from you as he turns around and starts walking back in the direction you came.
"Get on the train," he calls over his shoulder, "Don't keep Romeo waiting."
You hesitate, your fist clenching as your heart and mind fight for control. Watching him walk away feels like losing a part of yourself, though you can't quite understand why.
You board the train with tears in your eyes, and search through your purse for your phone. You send a quick message to Xavier to let him know you'll be there soon, and try to collect the pieces of your heart as the train speeds toward home.
Xavier chose you yesterday. And today, you chose him.
This star isn't going anywhere.Â
#lads fanfic#lads x reader#lads xavier#love and deepspace#lnds#fanfic#xavier x reader#lads sylus#lads rafayel#l&ds xavier#l&ds rafayel#l&ds
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Neuvillette: [fully immersed in a new case file, listening to classical music, occasionally sipping his water glass, very focused]
Furina: [upside down on his office's couch] Do you think lakelight lilies have feelings?
#neuvillette#furina#focallette#neuvifuri#genshin incorrect quotes#genshin impact#fontaine#// you cannot tell me that somehow would make him smile out of the blue; and look at her endearingly#probably thinking how sweet and considerate his wife is#â Such a kind soul; she wonder if plants have emotions... my beloved; my ocean's heart; ma fleurette; ma petite ange...â#and then he just nods and only says âPossiblyâ#but ahhhh; he looking at her like 'the most selfless beautiful woman... my lumitoile; my treasuare#and then he just can't go back to reading the cases; he is too distracted by Furina's beauty and her random questions â„
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HOW DEEP IS YOUR DEVOTION? ; SATORU GOJO
synopsis; youâre his knight, and heâs your prince. if only it were that simple.
word count; 6.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but itâs only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3
a/n; big big BIG thank you to @/teddybeartoji for having the biggest brain in the galaxy and infecting me with this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading you can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity
you are five years old when you meet the prince.
five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog â scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.
the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you donât know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesnât have anything to be afraid of. like heâs never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like heâs comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.
âdoes it hurt?â
the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something youâve never seen before â
a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.
the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town â too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. heâs above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.
thereâs something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that wonât look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.
but then he smiles. and itâs sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.
a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.
(that's how it begins. the dynamic thatâll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where heâs going.)
satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.
but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. itâs surprising, but you donât protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and heâs stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy.Â
the king and queen donât care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants â but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work.Â
satoru doesnât waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.
and he wins. he always wins.
thatâs how you become the princeâs playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he wonât settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.
time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life â sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didnât know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into.Â
satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and donât let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you â the prince can do what he wants.
that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all youâll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.
and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence â seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears.Â
but thatâs an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.
(youâll never forget that look in his eyes.)
satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you donât understand why, but youâve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the princeâs best friend, and some part of you knows thatâs all youâll ever amount to. but you donât mind.
because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere.Â
a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that heâll protect you forever.Â
(you tell yourself the same. that youâll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet youâd die for him.)
a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company.Â
so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone.Â
itâs challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.
and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true.Â
thereâs something playful in satoruâs eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic â as if youâre still seven years old, and playing house.Â
you want to tell him that it isnât a joke. that youâre serious, about this, that youâd tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know heâd just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words youâve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.
when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that heâs teasing you. indulging you, as if heâs in on some joke that you arenât. but youâll take what you can get.
you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you donât understand why.
so you keep calling him satoru. even though itâs more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldnât be so very close, they think, and you donât disagree. but thereâs nothing they can do about it, anyhow.
the prince and his knight can do what they want.
not much changes. youâre his knight, but he treats you the same as before. heâs playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; itâs in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, thereâs my favorite knight.Â
(youâre no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancĂ©e â a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.
but you donât mind. youâve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)
satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. heâs still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.
and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty â enough to receive respect without even trying.Â
but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.
as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect.Â
all of it for one person.
all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and heâs always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue.Â
thatâs only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isnât your own. when you get hurt, itâs different â something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you canât tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.
sometimes, youâre more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesnât speak. you donât, either.
a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger â and if you look up, youâll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.
(something tells you heâd kneel, too, if only youâd let him.)
the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you donât have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now.Â
despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.
âdo you think i look good in black? be honest.â
you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.
satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.
âsure you do.â
âsuguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,â he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. âdo you think heâs jealous?â
âdefinitely.â
a moment passes.Â
satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. â⊠something tells me you arenât taking this seriously.â
âi am,â you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. âjust tired. you look good in anything. you know that.â
he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.
itâs late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. itâs been a long day, and yet youâre here â doing even more work. just a little more.
and satoruâs right there with you. even though heâs just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.
a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.
and itâs nice, you think, just to have satoru there â talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each otherâs side.
itâs been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoruâs been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.
âare they running you ragged?â he suddenly asks, and you donât realize youâve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.
âneed me toïżœïżœâ he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. âhandle it?â
and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesnât carry a hint of something genuine too. âof course not.â
thereâs a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.
it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.
butâŠ
âitâs my duty,â you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is.Â
you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.
satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth.Â
after a brief pause, he continues. âyou donât have to be so serious all the time, you know.â his voice comes out a little raspy. itâs got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ânot around me.â
you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. itâs too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.
â⊠iâm less serious with you than i am with others.â
satoru sits up a little straighter.
âyeah?â he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. âthatâs good. you really should loosen up, though.â
a glance. fleeting, just to see him â but he isnât looking at you. heâs looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.
when his eyes meet yours, theyâre smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.
âyouâve got a pretty smile,â he exhales. âbe a shame not to show it off.â
when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.
(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)
âhave you been doing okay?â you ask, and satoru blinks. thereâs a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasnât been sleeping properly.
something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.
âtheyâre running you ragged, too,â you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct â or maybe just to make him laugh. âneed me to step in?â
satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.
âsettle down, little knight.â
a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl.Â
âof course,â he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although heâd like you to assume otherwise. âall of it is just preparation, anyhow.âÂ
a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. âitâs what i was born for, wasnât it?â
you purse your lips.
â⊠i donât think so.â
another chuckle. a little delighted, this time.Â
âyeah,â he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. âme neither.â something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. âbut it is what it is.â
a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. âtell me if there's anything i can do,â you settle on. the same words you always choose. âanything at all.â
satoru smiles. âright.â his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. âthereâs nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?âÂ
ââ there isnât.â you smile. ânothing at all.â
he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.
then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you arenât sure why.
âalright, then.â his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. âthere is something you can do.â
when heâs close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable.Â
then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.
(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)
no matter where he goes, you follow.
and satoru grins. itâs sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.
âcome with me.â
at first, you truly arenât sure where heâs going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.
itâs the river you used to play by as children.
gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there arenât any troublemaker children left to trap them.
satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then heâs taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what heâs thinking.
âah â wait ââ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. âthat's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.â
he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. âoh? is that so?â he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then heâs stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. âwanna know what i think?â
he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.
âi think youâre too scared to get in.â
you blink.
â⊠really?â you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself.
âreally,â he purrs. âyou were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.â he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. âscaredy-cat.â
you raise an unimpressed brow. satoru steps back, inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that heâs standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees â it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. heâs still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own.Â
âcâmon,â he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. âor is it too much for my brave knight to handle?â
satoru laughs, when that makes you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little.Â
his knight. his favourite knight.
â... fine,â you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. âjust be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.â
âah, but youâd kiss it better, no? if i asked?â he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.
a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.
the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you heâs being sincere.
ââ loosen up. itâs just you and me.â
so you do.
and itâs odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, youâre playing in the water â because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate.Â
the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like thereâs no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.
you think itâs ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, youâre laughing too â and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.
a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily. his chest is heaving, lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting.Â
a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.
but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still.Â
and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air.Â
âstay like this, for a bit,â he rasps. âitâs okay.â
his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, butâŠ
(heâs warm.)
silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.
âi missed this.â
âŠ
nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller.Â
then again â that was a long time ago, wasnât it?
â⊠me too.â
âmissed you,â he continues, his jaw on top of your head. itâs a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. âmissed hearing you laugh like that. feels like itâs been so long.âÂ
you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby.Â
âwe haven't had much time together, lately. iâve been worried,â he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. âit bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.â
a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff â slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.
ârelax, your majesty,â you tease. âi promise the other knights arenât bullying me.âÂ
satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. âiâm serious,â he huffs, squeezing you lightly. âand itâs not them iâm worried about. suguruâs there.â
another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoruâs beaten you to it.
âthey all treat you so carelessly.â thereâs something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. âlike you exist to serve them. like youâre disposable.âÂ
a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you donât dare break it. when he speaks again, itâs an order. a demand.Â
âi want you to tell me if they go too far.â
silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip.Â
(he isnât wrong. but thatâs simply what it means to be a knight â half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.
when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)
âitâs fine. iâm not that fragile,â you weakly protest, but itâs not enough. satoru huffs.
âyouâre a human being,â he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. âyou deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.â
a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you havenât heard in years.Â
âif anyone gives you trouble â if anyone hurts you⊠if anyone makes you feel unsafe,â he almost spits the words, like theyâre venomous, sacrilegious. âtell me. iâll destroy them.â
silence. and then, a chuckle.
thatâs all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire. âi can take care of myself, satoru,â you remind him. hoping itâll soothe him. âyou know that.â
but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if youâre made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.
and then;Â
âiâd do it, you know.â
â⊠do what?â you ask, though some part of you already knows.Â
satoruâs reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. âdestroy them. anyone.â
âiâd tear this nation apart if you asked me to.â
âŠ
(ah. that look in his eyes â one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)
you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. â⊠i wouldnât.â
âi know.â satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness youâre so used to. your shoulders relax. âbut i would. if thatâs what you wanted.â
and itâs a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but youâre almost certain youâd do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.
âit bothers me, you know.â satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. âwhen you get hurt. when you fight for me.â
âi know,â you murmur. youâve seen it in his eyes, a worry heâs not as good at hiding as he thinks. âi want to, though.â
âand i want you to be safe.â a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. âyou never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.â
you bite down on your lip. he sounds⊠a little sad.
â⊠sorry.â
a momentâs pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. âitâs fine. iâm here. always,â his palm runs down the small of your back. âin case anything happens.â
he inhales. âand when i become king ââ a beat. he swallows thickly. âyouâll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.â
âsatoru,â you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. âiâm not worried. i can protect myself.â
âi know. but iâm saying you donât have to.â
and then heâs pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than heâs seen you these past few months. itâs enough to get his heart racing. enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.
ââ iâll protect you forever,â he vows. âremember?â
thereâs devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow heâll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.
you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze.Â
â... you really donât care about the dynamic here, do you?â is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. âiâm the knight. iâm your protector.â
âoh, i know.â a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. âmy little hero. what would i ever do without you?â
a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. heâs still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.
âi don't get it, though.â
you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.
âa prince shouldnât care for his knightâŠâ he repeats, like heâs heard the string of words a million times before. âthe idea of that. i donât understand it. never have.â
the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if heâs looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.
satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion â but heâs smiling. âwhatâs so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?âÂ
âŠ
his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. âfeel that?â
you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if itâs itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.
âitâs you,â satoru whispers. âall for you.â
a moment passes.
silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse.Â
all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.
fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoruâs heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light.Â
satoru gojo is everything. heâs the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. heâs your prince, your favorite person, and youâll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.
a boy so sweet youâd die for him.
(a boy so sweet he wouldnât want you to.)
a shiver runs down his spine â sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and donât attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.
âcâmon,â you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. âletâs go home.â
but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape â youâre almost certain youâre stronger â but you donât quite have the heart to. âitâs fine,â he huffs. almost a whine. âstay.â
âyouâll get sick.â
âi never get sick.â
a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. âthat can change,â you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.
a smile. one you canât see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like heâs got everything he needs right in front of him. âsome things never change,â he informs you. pleased. âjust look at us.â
and heâs right. so you donât say anything else.Â
but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and youâre almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and youâre grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear.Â
until satoru suddenly chuckles.
âhey,â he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. âwanna know a secret?â
you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like youâre getting ready to hear a bad joke. â... what is it?â
before the words have fully left your throat, heâs resting his forehead against yours â breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost donât know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.
âi think i was born to meet you.â
(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)
#u both catch a cold the next day <33#anyway i am normal about the devotion of a loyal knight paired w the devotion of a man whoâs only ever loved one single person in his life#shoutout to knight x royalty dynamics for inventing romance#i wanted to get a good balance on prince!gojoâs twisted side and soft side so i hope i did ok!! :â3#hes a kind man at heart he rly is but i think being born at the peak of the class pyramid does smth to a person lmao#i didn't touch on it in the fic but he would have turned out a lotttt more twisted if he hadnt met reader as a child âŠ#what if i was ur knight..;;; and u were my princeâŠ.;;;;; and we changed the trajectory of each otherâs lives đłđł đđ#mickey if u see this!!! tysm for letting me write abt this concept i had so much fun!!! this fic is for u <33#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen
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headcanons: dating percy jackson (pt. 2)
a/n: i know i said iâd make more and i didnât. until now so here you go. i know it was supposed to be headcanons but the end was more of a minific. i hope you still like it, though.
also please consider reblogging this if you enjoy it <3
pairing: percy jackson x gn!reader
warnings: none, really
(pt. 1)
percy jackson who absolutely adores you. let me tell you, he is whipped. completely. and itâs the most adorable thing in the world. like when sally, being the sweetheart she is, sends him blue candy and snacks he will share them with you. and if you donât take them, oh boy.Â
percy jackson who cannot bake to safe his life. he can cook but his muffins just wonât come out the way he wants them to, no matter which recipe he tries. even if itâs his momâs, itâs like heâs cursed or something. he tries to make the blue chocolate chip cookies himself and thatâs the only thing that works for him when it comes to baking. cake? it burns, somehow. every dam time (iâm sorry, i had to). muffins? he adds too much flour and they come out all dry. he still gives them to you, hoping youâll still like them so you better pretend you do, even if they get stuck in your throat and you need to chug a gallon of water to be able to eat something else.Â
percy jackson who brings you something every time he visits his father. a pearl, a seashell, a little trinket, something he made himself which you can collect on your camp necklace.Â
percy jackson who tells you that he loves you like itâs the most normal thing in the world. but he means it and thatâs what makes it special.Â
âi love you.âÂ
âi know.âÂ
percy jackson who invites you to spend christmas with him and sally in their little new york apartment, baking christmas cookies. theyâre blue, of course, even if green or red would be more appropriate for the occasion. you donât question it. later that evening, youâre cuddled up on the couch, watching christmas movies until percy eventually falls asleep. you are playing with his hair as his breath steadies. you smile when you notice him drifting off to sleep, pressing a lazy kiss to his forehead. you almost jump when you turn to look back at the TV, noticing sally still sitting there. you almost forgot where you are. she smiles, clearly amused but also happy.Â
âwhat?â you mouth, careful not to wake percy.
ânothing,â sally says softly, still smiling. the tone of her voice is amused, almost joyful.Â
she looks back at the TV, chuckling lightly.Â
âwhat?â you ask again, giggling a little.
ânothing, nothing.âÂ
you shake your head.Â
and sally knows youâre the one for her son.Â
#lucaâs fanfic#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson spoilers#pjo#pjo series#pjo tv show#percy jackson show#pjo spoilers#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson tv show#percy jackson oneshot#percy jackson imagine#percy pjo#percy series#percy and annabeth#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#sally jackson#pjo x you#pjo x reader#pjo x y/n#percy jackson
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LOGAN HOWLETT - WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY
A/N: Here comes chapter FOUR! Oh wow. It's easier when I do this for fun. I don't feel that much pressure to write and put it out regularly. I think the pace of releasing new chapters will slow down soon, but I hope to finish this at least the way I want to.
Pairing:Â Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Warning:Â violence, blood
Summary:Â In Salem, Logan and Y/N have the opportunity to save the boy.
Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.
Words:Â 5200+
Important note:Â Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine.
A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLISTÂ |Â Chapter Three
LOGAN HOWLETT - WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY
The sky turned dark blue, and the moon showed high up. Y/Nâs eyes were locked on it, watching as it illuminated the whole world. She found nights to be her favourite - calm, peaceful. Everyoneâs soul would rest as their heads would travel into the dreamland. Then again, sleeping was difficult and unpleasant when nightmares entered uninvited.
âWhat happened today?â Logan brought her back to reality with the question. âWhy the tears?âÂ
She exhaled, annoyed by that question. âI talked with the Professor,â she said, not looking at him. âHe told me about slipping from Cerebro. And I know you know.âÂ
His eyes never left the road. âI know. We all do. He didnât tell us why it kept happening.âÂ
Y/N turned her head to him and observed his focused face. His hands were resting on the steering wheel. âHe discovered the reason.â Logan looked at her for a brief moment. âIt has to do with my mutation. In his words, it is all about protection. Somehow, it shields my brain from telepaths or any mind infiltration.âÂ
âI thought he read your mind,â he was confused.Â
âHe did,â she nodded. âUntil he couldnât again. My mind decides for itself, it seems. One moment, you can come in and have a peak, and then, the doors close, and you are left standing outside in the cold.âÂ
âYouâll figure it out.âÂ
âI already figured out other things. I am dumb and naive,â Y/N scoffed. âThat realisation hurt like a bitch.âÂ
His eyes were back on her. âHey, whatâs that supposed to mean? You are not any of those things.âÂ
She had to laugh. âOh, if you only knew how many stupid things I did in the past. Youâd then know that I am right.âÂ
âWe all make stupid things,â he commented. âI have my own fair share of them.âÂ
Y/N shifted in her seat and turned her body to see him better. âAh, will I learn something new about you?â she narrowed her eyes.Â
âOnly if you tell me more about your stupidity,â he grimaced at her.Â
The smile disappeared from her face, and she lowered her eyes. The gear lever became more fascinating than anything else around. âMy ex-boyfriend sold me to the lab,â she said timidly.Â
âWhat?â his foot pressed on the break, the car coming to a halt. There was a stop sign that he almost didnât see. âWhat the fuck?â He turned left on another road and continued driving to Salem.Â
âI was barely nineteen when he found me and gave me a roof and food. He, Mars, was the leader of the group - Void.â She wasnât ready to tell the story out loud. The fear of him judging her would be unbearable. Charles was sympathetic. Not a hit of judgement came out of his voice. Maybe Logan would be the same? âIâve spent there almost four years before it went to shit.â
âVoid? It sounds like Magnetoâs âBrotherhoodâ,â Logan stated.Â
âThe Void consisted of mutants and humans. It was basically a criminal group. We would steal money, cars and do all sorts of shit,â she shook her head. âI am not proud of that part of my life.âÂ
âWhat happened?â he was curious.Â
Y/N huffed and closed her eyes. âMars, such a weird name, could hypnotise people, manipulate them as he liked. He was a mutant. I didnât know about it. Many of us didnât. He used it to his advantage. He would force people to do things for him, even torture innocent people.
âAt this point, I cannot be sure what was my own doing and what was his. All I know is he had me in the palms of his hands. It took some sweet nothings and a little attention, and this bitch,â she pointed at herself, âfell for him.â
âSo, you were in love,â Logan said after a while.Â
âI think, I donât know. Letâs say I was, but it was one-sided. Mars used me, used my power to protect him. He gave me some attention and fell for it.â She bit her lower lip, nervousness spreading over her body. âDuring that time with him, I did unspeakable things.âÂ
Logan noticed it was difficult to talk about that part. She twiddled her thumbs. âWhy did he sell you to the lab?â
Y/N scratched her nape. âWhen I found out that he was a mutant and what was his ability - yes, it took me four years - I wanted to run away and never look back. Of course, being the stupidly brave woman I am, I went to confront him. Mars was one step ahead of me.
âThe last thing I remember was hands holding me tight, pulling me away from him. They got me off guard and injected me with a drug. When I gained consciousness, I was locked in a cell. And thus started my five-year life as a lab rat, moved at least seven times around the country.âÂ
âDamn,â said Logan.Â
âDumb, blind, naive - thatâs all I can say about myself. Lessons were learned. I thought about killing him, you know? A person like him doesnât deserve to live. Who knows how many girls he had used since he sold me?âÂ
âIf you had the chance, would you?â Logan asked, curious to know the answer to that.Â
It took her a minute to admit it. âYes. I would.â She reached into the pocket of her jeans and took out a black hair elastic. Her hands worked fast, and she brushed her hair into a bun. Some strands framed her face. When her eyes found Logan staring at her, she gave him a faint smile. âYou must think Iâm crazy.â
âNot at all,â he admitted. âIâd do the same thing. Hell, I did it in the past. I killed people who used me and betrayed me. The list of people whose life I ended is long. I promised myself Iâd never kill again. I quickly realised thatâs not how it works in this world.âÂ
âYouâd do anything to survive,â she added after that. âI did. You know the saying - Iâd kill for love. And I did. Uh, maybe. I donât know. Whether I did or didnât, it doesnât matter. There is blood on my hands. I have to live with that.âÂ
A gas station came into their view. Logan turned the car and parked on a free spot next to the building. âIâll fill the tank, and then we can continue.âÂ
Y/N unfastened the seatbelt and stepped outside. She stretched her limbs. She went inside the building and bought two water bottles and a chocolate. As she was walking out, her eyes captured Logan filling the tank. Her eyes travelled over his body, admiring how well-built he was. Out of nowhere, her lips slightly curved up. There was a warm feeling in her lower stomach and even excitement. Where did that come from?Â
He noticed. Logan saw her standing behind the glass door, holding the bottles and smiling at him. He flared his nostrils and moved his eyes away. Logan moved inside to pay for the gas just as Y/N walked out to the car.Â
She put the bottles and chocolate on the roof. The smell of gasoline lingered around the place. One cigarette or a match, and the station would explode. Where was her mind going with this?Â
âHey there, pretty girl.â Two unknown men approached her. They were tall, one was bold, and the other had short dark hair. âWanna hang out?âÂ
She hated this. Why did men need to talk to women when they were not interested? She glared at them. âNo, thanks.âÂ
âOh, come on, sweets.âÂ
She squinted at them. âI think you have trouble accepting when someone says no.âÂ
âMouthy,â one laughed. âI like that.âÂ
âI suggest you leave me alone before-â
âBefore what, sugar?â
Logan walked out, and his eyes fell on Y/N and two douchebags talking to her. âWhat the fuck?â he mumbled and walked straight to her. Instinctively, he stood behind her, giving the men death glares. âCan I help ya, fellas?âÂ
Y/N could feel Loganâs body heat radiating. He stood close to her, his front almost touching her back. She smirked, loving how the menâs faces paled. They stepped back.Â
âI thought so,â Loganâs hand rubbed Y/Nâs right shoulder and then walked around the car.Â
Y/N winked at the men and stepped inside the car, smiling. She looked at Logan, who already had a cigar in his mouth, lighting it up. âThanks.âÂ
âEh, donât mention it,â he said.Â
They had another hour and a half before they reached Salem. Either they were silent, or they talked about random things. Y/N could still feel Loganâs touch on her shoulder, lingering there gently.Â
âWill you tell me something about you?â she asked an hour later. âI told you about my stupidity. Iâd like to know more about you. That is if you are willing to share.â He smiled and rolled his eyes. âYouâve said you killed a lot of people. Can you tell me more?âÂ
She noticed how he flinged. She must have hit a tough spot. Y/N wanted to apologise. Logan decided to tell her more. âIâve seen wars, fought in them even.â
âWars?â
âFirst World War, Second World War,â he answered.Â
Y/Nâs mouth almost fell to her lap. âWait, what do you mean?âÂ
âI was born in 1832,â he announced. Watching Y/Nâs face change a few times was amusing.Â
âNo shit,â she didnât believe him. âYou cannot be over 170 years old. You look not older than 35.âÂ
âI ainât lying, bub,â he grinned at her.Â
Y/Nâs mouth kept moving. No words came out. Many thoughts were running through her mind. Her whole body turned to him. âOkay, it makes sense when I know about your regenerative healing factor. I didnât think it would make you immortal.âÂ
âI wouldnât say I am immortal,â he took a drag from the cigar. The air filled with its heavy smell. âI once was a boy who grew up, and then, the ageing slowed down until it stopped, or I think.â When he looked at her, Y/Nâs mouth kept hanging open. He put two fingers under her chin and helped her close her mouth. âCareful, or something will fly in there.âÂ
Their eyes met. Loganâs fingers rested under her chin longer than necessary. When he pulled away, she wanted to scream to put them back there.Â
âSo, both wars,â she tried to resume the topic.Â
He wrinkled his nose. âCivil war, Korean war.âÂ
âHoly shit.âÂ
âHereâs the thing - I donât remember much. At some point, before I even came to the school, I lost my memory. Charles helped me restore some. There are big chunks of my past I still donât know. I have concluded that itâs for the better.âÂ
âIâm sorry if I made you uncomfortable,â she said.Â
âNo, itâs fine,â he waved a hand. âIf you can share bits and pieces, so can I.âÂ
When they arrived in Salem, it was after midnight. Logan decided to park the car farther away from the lab. It wouldnât be wise to drive all the way there. Once they left the vehicle, they walked through a calm residential district. The lab was around a ten-minute walk from there.Â
The air got colder, and the moon got lost behind the clouds. The wind rose. There were signs it was about to rain.Â
âWeâll keep it simple, Y/N,â Logan started to talk, explaining the plan. âWe will look around the perimeter and map the surroundings. We count the guards and the security cameras and then leave.âÂ
âWhat if-â
âNo,â he stopped her. âI will not let you risk your life without a back-up. Last time, the place was packed with armed men. I donât think that changed since then.âÂ
There was no point in arguing. âFine.âÂ
When they approached the facility, the place looked almost similar when she left it. There was a part of the building demolished. It used to be her escape window. One of the locked mutants wrecked that side with their ability. And yet, it brought her a lot of unpleasant memories. Her stomach turned upside down.Â
Together, they moved around the demolished side until they were met with an entrance gate. âWhat the shit?â Logan mumbled. At the gate were only two men with guns. âLast time, there were twenty of them,â he stated. âThe roofs were covered with them. Now nothing.âÂ
Shouting came out of the demesne. Then, there was the sound of an engine. Logan grabbed Y/Nâs hand and pulled her to him, making them hide behind a thick tree. He kept her close while they watched a military truck exit the facility.Â
âThe boy is not here,â Logan stated. âThis place is not what it used to be a few weeks back. Itâs strange. We got satellite pictures a few days ago, and this was still a highly secured facility.â
When the truck was gone, they moved forward. The wall that surrounded the building was destroyed in many places. They would be able to get with ease. Y/Nâs eyes travelled around the building. She knew a way in. She could still remember the interior.Â
âWe should go. The boy is not here,â Logan ordered, reaching for her arm.Â
âNo, wait,â Y/N stopped him. âI think this is the perfect opportunity to go inside. So far, there are not many guards. The lab, where they kept us, is underground. At least, that was a month ago. We have the perfect opportunity to look around.âÂ
He gritted his teeth. âI told you I will not risk your life. It is dangerous.âÂ
âThen stay here,â she talked back. âIâm here. I need to know. Even if it is only a little bit.âÂ
Y/N started to run away from him, heading to the fallen wall that was not guarded by the men. Logan cursed under his nose. What was he expecting? That woman was stubborn as hell. Before he lost her, he decided to follow her. His conscience wouldnât let him let her go alone.
Y/N was careful when she entered the estate and ran to the demolished part of the building. Peeking inside, she saw a destroyed room filled with bricks, wood and damaged furniture. The interior was dark. There was nothing useful for her. Her eyes noticed light coming from the other side. It was a hallway leading further into the compound.Â
Her feet automatically took her there. She walked over the bricks and stones until she reached the hallway entrance. If she remembered correctly, it led to a security room.Â
A hand gripped her above her elbow and pulled her back. âWhat the fuck do you think you are doing?â Her eyes found angry Logan standing close to her.Â
âThere is a security room down the hallway,â she whispered. âWe will be able to see more.âÂ
âI am so pissed right now,â he growled. âWe had a deal.âÂ
âIf I see a chance, I will take it,â she spat back, trying to keep her voice low. âNow let me go. Please. I must know more.âÂ
As much as he hated it, Logan let her go. His claws got out, ready to be used if necessary. Logan walked close behind her, protecting her back. They reached the end of the hallway.Â
âShit,â she cursed. There were dead bodies on the floor, covered in blood. It felt like a slaughter room. The scent of copper hit her nose, and she wrinkled it. She observed the dead bodies and discovered they had many bullet wounds on their bodies. It was all fresh. âWeâre not alone.âÂ
Logan started to sniff the air, sensing something was off. Y/N approached the screens and looked at all the cameras installed around the place. There was another military vehicle outside that they didnât notice. More men surrounded it. They wore different uniforms than the dead men in the security room.
âThey are here for something,â she commented as her eyes drifted from one screen to another. âThey are here for JJ,â she gasped when she found a screen with JJâs cell.Â
Logan got to her to see with his own eyes. The eleven-year-old was sitting in the middle of a cage, visibly distressed. He had a white gown on. No other mutants were present. As they watched, they saw men come to him, pointing guns at the innocent child.Â
Unexpected. Thatâs how it could be described. How was it possible that the last time Y/N saw him, they wanted to take him away, and now, he was here? None of this made sense.Â
âShit,â Logan gasped. He pointed at one of the soldiers who was closest to the camera. âThey work for Trask. If they take him, heâll sure be dead by the end of the week.âÂ
That was the push Y/N needed. Logan didnât have the chance to react when she ran away from him, heading outside to the other military track. She was sure it was waiting there for JJ.Â
Anger filled her veins, her whole body. Last time, she couldnât help him escape. He got her out. She was too weak to return the favour. This time, Y/N was determined to get him out and destroy anyone who would dare to stop her. The deal she made with Logan was out the window.Â
Y/N ran outside but hid behind the closest corner, watching. She waited for the window of opportunity. At least ten men kept guarding the vehicle. The back door was opened. Her heart was beating rapidly. Adrenaline was high. Fear knocked on the back of her head, telling her to run away and never look back.Â
She potted JJ coming out of the building with a thick collar around his neck. The boy was almost bald and alarmingly bruised. Two big men guarded him by holding his shoulders from each side. Another three men were walking behind them, guns ready to shoot him in his head.Â
What can she do with her protective power? It has some offensive moves, Y/N remembered the Professorâs words. They echoed inside her mind. She thought back to when her ability turned deadly.Â
One last breath, and she ran towards the heavily armed men. The moment they discovered her presence, their guns were up, pointing at her. Y/N wrapped her body into a protective shield and rammed the men with it.Â
Bullets were pointless. They werenât able to penetrate the protective veil of blue. Y/N turned on her heel and faced the rest of the men. As much as they tried, no one could get through the forcefield.Â
Two men grabbed JJ and moved with him away from the fight while the rest of them did everything in their power to kill Y/N. She kept knocking down the men like a house of cards. And then a roaring shout came from the right side. Loganâs claws penetrated the menâs bodies, slicing through them. Some managed to shoot him.Â
âNo,â Y/N shouted. For a moment, he forgot he was indestructible. And yet, she worried about him.
The usage of forcefield was draining her energy fast. The more she held it on, the weaker her body became. She ran towards the men who got JJ. âLet him go!â she screamed at them. âHeâs a child!âÂ
They threw the boy on the ground hard, making him cry in pain. Thatâs when Y/N noticed the colourful bruises around his face, arms and legs. He looked sick and beaten. The gun was now pointed directly at his head. âMake a step, and I will kill him in front of your eyes!âÂ
Y/N didnât make a move. Her eyes were fixed on the boy. âLet him go,â she said through gritted teeth. âHeâs just a child. An innocent child that hasnât lived enough.âÂ
Once Logan killed the last man, he walked closer to Y/N and the men. His adamantium claws were covered in blood, as were his t-shirt and the unbuttoned flannel shirt. When he discovered how the boy was close to being shot, he stopped in his tracks, breathing heavily.Â
âY/N,â JJ whispered her name. Tears gathered in his eyes. âY-you came for me?âÂ
It broke her heart to see him like this. âOf course,â her voice shook. Her eyes moved back to the soldiers. âLet-him-go. I wonât ask again.âÂ
âNo,â the soldier said strictly. âIf you want the boy to live, you will let us leave with him.âÂ
The forcefield started to glitch a little. Everyone noticed it. Y/N had to focus harder to keep herself protected. One mistake and she could end dead.Â
âWhat do you want with him?â Logan asked instead.
âThatâs none of your business, mutant,â he barked.Â
Y/N thought about her next move. Her head turned to bloodied Logan, who was breathing heavily. His body was ready to fight. The veins popped out of his neck and forearms. She sighed. Y/N got them into this mess, and she didnât know what to do.Â
âWe need back up to Salemâs lab,â her ears registered one of the men talking to a walkie-talkie. âWe have two other mutants on our radar. They are trying to get the boy.Â
Her eyes blinked a few times. She didnât have much time left. Y/N kept breathing through her nose. Deep inhale and long exhale.Â
âY/N,â she heard Loganâs concerned voice.Â
Focus on the object you want to wrap in the forcefield and send the energy flying to it. Thatâs what the Professor told her last week during her training. Picture it. Project the vision onto it.Â
Her eyes locked on JJ, who was shivering on the cold ground. With that collar around his neck, he looked like a slave. She could feel his fear. All she wanted was to protect him, keep him safe from this fucked up world. Her right hand stretched forward. In her mind, she pictured the boy wrapped around the veil, protecting his soul and body.Â
Thatâs when she felt the energy leaving her body and covered the boy in a light blue and silver veil. For the first time, she created a forcefield around another person. When it happened, the man shot a bullet at him. It got absorbed into it.Â
It was Loganâs cue to bolt out of his place and kill both of those fuckers who dared to hurt Y/N or the boy. Blood splashed around them, covering the grass and Logan. It took him a few slices, and it was over. Every soldier who wanted to kill them was dead.Â
âFuck,â Logan cursed and retracted the claws back under the skin. His eyes moved to the forcefield wrapped around the boy and glitching around her. She created two at the same time.
Y/Nâs eyes got heavier. Something warm tickled her upper lip. She broke the energy. The veil disappeared from her and from the boy. She exhaled the last breath she held. Her knees gave up, and she fell to the ground. Her head was spinning. She felt this weak before when she escaped the lab.Â
âY/N,â Logan called her name when he fell to his knees next to her. He ran to her the moment she went down. He lifted her head and noticed her nose bleeding heavily. His big hands brushed her cheeks. He put a strand of hair behind her ear. âLook at me, bub. Come on, look at me.âÂ
âIâm,â she started to talk but failed. She gulped loudly and took a deep breath. âIâm fine.âÂ
âYouâre bleeding,â he wiped the blood with the sleeve of his flannel shirt. It didnât help much. âCan you walk? We need to move. More will come. We must leave.âÂ
She blinked a few times. âYeah, I guess. Get JJ, and we can go.âÂ
Logan helped her to her feet and made sure she was stable. He turned to the boy who was kneeling on the ground watching them. âYou alright, kid?â he eyed the child, checking if he wasnât bleeding as well. Fear was evident on his face. âI will not gonna hurt ya,â his voice got softer.Â
JJ got up on his feet and ran towards Y/N, throwing himself into her weak embrace. âYou came for me,â he cried.Â
âIâm sorry it took me so long,â her voice broke, and she kissed his head. âYou are safe now, JJ. Logan and I will take you to a safe place.â
As much as he hated to ruin the moment, Logan stepped to them. His ears registered the sound of helicopters in the air. âWe need to move. Now.âÂ
Y/N grabbed the boyâs hand, and they ran away from the facility and into the woods. Logan was two steps behind them, making sure they were moving. His eyes were more fixed on Y/N than on the boy.Â
Suddenly, her body bumped into a tree. She had to stop and take a few breaths. Everything was shaking, and her vision got blurry. âShit,â mumbled. She looked at the boy, then at Logan, frowning. Why were there two of each?Â
The woods spun in front of her eyes. It took her a few seconds before she pushed her body off the tree and moved. Her hand never let go of JJ. This time, Loganâs arm found her waist. He kept it there for support. He didnât want her to fall or hurt herself anymore. He could smell how drained she was. Logan held her until they reached the residential district.
âYou good?â he asked her when they slowed down.Â
âJust weak,â she replied. âItâs going to be okay. Iâve never held the forcefield for this long.âÂ
âYou projected it around the boy, also. Thatâs a huge step,â he patted her shoulder. âIâm still pissed at ya,â he added.
âSorry, not sorry.â
Logan turned around, eyes scanning the woods behind them. His instinct told him to move and leave. He smelled more soldiers searching for them. To their luck, the car was closer than anticipated. He unlocked the car and opened the door for the boy. âGet in,â he ordered.Â
Y/N climbed into the passengerâs seat and closed the door with a loud thud. She moaned. The sound was too painful. Once Logan got in, they were on their way away from Salem and back to the school.Â
The tension inside the car could be felt until they were far away from the residential district. All of them relaxed when they connected to a main road.Â
Y/N reached for her backpack and took out her denim jacket. She took off her hoodie and handed it to JJ. âPut this on so youâre not cold.âÂ
âThanks,â he sniffled a little and grabbed the hoodie. He was only wearing a thin white robe covered in dirt. His legs were exposed, and he was bare feet.
Logan saw what she was doing, so he turned on the heat inside the car. Y/N grabbed a bottle she bought at the gas station and handed it to JJ. Then she gave him a piece of the chocolate. âHere, drink and eat some chocolate. Itâs all I have now.âÂ
She watched him from the rear-view mirror, drinking the water and eating the chocolate. Her shoulders relaxed, and she exhaled loudly. As if the stress escaped her body when she saw him alive and well.Â
âEveryoneâs gonna be pissed,â Logan stated after a while. His eyes were on the road, here and there, checking the boy in the mirror.Â
âI donât care,â Y/N whispered. Her body rested against the car seat, eyes closed. âWe didnât plan on this.â
âSure,â he scoffed.Â
âNo, we didnât,â she opened her eyes and glared at him. âI would have left if it werenât for the fact that soldiers from Trask came for him. Besides, if I didnât intervene, we would have lost him forever.âÂ
âYou donât-â
âYou said it yourself,â she snapped. âIf they took JJ, heâd be dead by the end of the week. This was our chance. I donât care that you are upset, disappointed or whatever. It had to be done.âÂ
Logan hit the steering wheel out of frustration. âGoddamit, Y/N. It was reckless to head inside without thinking. It could have gone to shits if there were more men.âÂ
âEnough,â she stopped him. âItâs done. We have him. Heâs alive, and we made it out of there. End of story.â
Y/n turned her head to the other side. It was a sign that the conversation was over. She noticed a faint reflection of herself in the window. There was dried blood under her nose, lips and chin. She tried to wipe it off with the sleeve of her denim jacket. It didnât work much.Â
âW-who are you?â they heard the boyâs soft voice. He was still afraid.Â
âLogan,â he said.Â
âY-you have claws,â JJ stated. âSo you are like us, right?â Logan only grunted. âWhere are you taking me?âÂ
Y/N turned around and faced the boy. She put a smile on her face. Her hand reached for his cheek and stroked it. âWe are taking you to a safe place for people like us. Itâs a school for mutants.â
âSchool?â his eyes sparkled. âThere is a school?â
âYes,â Y/N nodded. âYou will be able to live there and learn. Many children are living their lives there. They helped me, too. Logan saved me when I escaped the lab.â Her eyes filled with tears. She tried to hold the cry but couldnât. âIâm sorry I left you there. Iâm so sorry, JJ.â
His smaller hand reached for her hand on his cheek. âItâs okay. You came back.âÂ
âNo, no, itâs not,â she cried. âYou got us out. I will be forever thankful for that. It upsets me that I couldnât do the same for you that day. It took me a month.âÂ
Logan felt the pain in Y/Nâs voice. He bit his lower lip, trying to hold himself back and not reach for her. The anger he felt was gone. Logan wanted to put her into his arms and protect her whole being from the world. When he saw the tears running down her face, he sighed. His right hand reached for her face, and his thumb wiped off the tears under her left eye.Â
Her eyes met his. The touch was gentle, filled with something unspoken, new. âHeâs fine. We got him out.âÂ
All she managed to do was to nod.Â
âHow long until we are there?â Jerome asked.Â
âFour hours,â Logan answered when his hand left Y/Nâs cheek and turned his attention back to the road. âRest, kid. We have a long way ahead.âÂ
He wrapped his arms around his body, trying to warm himself faster. Y/Nâs hoodie helped. He even put the hood over his head. It yanked the collar around his neck. âWhat about this thing?âÂ
Y/N observed the device. There was a small green light. It meant it was on. âWeâll figure it out once we are at school. They will get it off you.âÂ
âWhat does it do again?â Logan asked.Â
âIt suppresses our mutation. JJ cannot use his power while the collar is on,â Y/N explained.Â
âI can use the claws to slice through it,â he suggested.Â
Jeromeâs eyes widened, and he gasped. âNo,â Y/N said, shaking her head. âItâs dangerous. We donât know what would happen if youâd try to destroy it like that.âÂ
âOkay. Weâll let Hank and Jean have a look at it. They will figure something out.âÂ
#Logan Howlett x reader#Logan Howlett x female reader#Logan Howlett x mutant reader#Logan Howlett x mutant female reader#Wolverine#Logan Howlett#Wolverine x reader#Wolverine x female reader#A touch of Hope#Marvel fanfiction
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âPerhaps that was another part of your planned⊠entrapment.â
Colin Bridgerton could live to be eight-and-ninety, and those words would forever be the nine he was most ashamed of. He had not known a momentâs peace since uttering them, his bones heavy with grief and regret as the words circled his memory, again, and again, and again.
Worse still had been Penelopeâs response â soft and unbearably genuine; watery and honest. âI did not mean to entrap you, Colin. I love you.â
I love you.
He held onto that part of the memory fiercely, mind focused on her singular mercy, the use of present tense â love, not loved â fervently hoping it would drown out the rest. That it would make him forget the feel of her fingers, warm against his own, slipping the frigid metal of her betrothal ring back into his palm; forget the way he felt his heart split in two immediately, the crisp sound of its cracking masked only by the angry clack of his boots as he stormed after her, livid and ludicrously in love, because how very dare she?
How dare she think to leave him, as though that were even a possibility for two people whose souls were so deeply intertwined?
He said as much, though admittedly, not quite as well.
âPenelope,â he whispered the warning into her hair as he caught up to her at the bottom of the staircase. His fingers curled around her elbow, just firm enough to keep her in place. Gently, he spun her to face him, and implored seriously, âyou cannot leave.â
Me, was what he meant. You cannot leave me.
Even the thought of it made the air leave his lungs, so he pushed it away, and chose instead to say, âthe banns have been read.â
She scoffed in a way that was so easy, he felt another shard of his heart come loose. âAs though we are the first pair to ever call off a wedding. Was not Miss Edwina already at the head of the altar? If anything, we are conscientiously early in our decision.â
âOur decisionâ. Of all the insults. As if Colin would ever permit such foolish thinking as this, let alone contribute to it.
He narrowed his eyes at this sudden display of hardness he did not recognize in her. âWe have been intimate,â he reminded her then â determined that she understand just exactly how inevitable they were.
He had uttered the very same excuse not five minutes prior, and yet this time, instead of her earlier sweet sorrow, he was met with a startling flash of anger, the blue of her eyes thunderous.
âNo one need know that if you would only stop repeating it,â she hissed, quiet and angry. âOr are you to tell me you will stupidly aid in your own entrapment,â the word fell from her tongue like arsenic, heavy and poisoned, âby announcing it over and over until we are caught?â
It was infuriating how truly clever she was.
No matter, he was clever, too. Her soulâs perfect match.
âAnd if you are with child?â He snapped.
She rolled her eyes at him, derisive laughter in her tone. âMy courses have come and gone, Mr. Bridgerton, you need not worry.â Somehow, her words left him stricken, a sharp pang of something akin to disappointment hitting him squarely in the chest. She, however, was unmoved, her expression as fiery as the auburn of her hair. âIt seems even my body has graciously decided to relieve you of your most honorable duty.â
It was scathing and deserved, and yet all Colin could say in return was what he hoped was true, âYou lie.â
âI do not,â she said simply, a near murderous smile playing at her lips now. âOr maybe I do,â she shrugged, unbothered. âIt is not as if you can lift my skirts in an attempt to ascertain the truth.â
It was all he could do not to gape at her, his beautiful, sweet, gently-bred betrothed â for she was his betrothed still, make no mistake â speaking in such a manner to him.
âPenelope,â he chastised harshly.
âMiss Featherington,â she corrected, tone sharp as she tipped her chin up towards him, eyes stony.
It was the final straw. Colin had never been so angry, and so desperately in love. His fingers fell from her elbow to her wrist, and he yanked it towards him much less gently than he should have, before slipping the ring back onto her finger with the kind of finality that brooked no more argument. He watched as it found its rightful place again, before announcing, irrefutably, âMrs. Bridgerton.â
#iaw drabble#iaw Bridgerton#Bridgerton#Polin#Polin drabble#just me trying to fix this scene over and over
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Authors Note: Hereâs the second request! Kinda rushed the final editing so thereâs probably mistakes Iâll find looking over this a couple days later. Still, I hope you like it anon!
Warnings: P in v sex, getting caught, itâs like semi-public, no protection, dirty talk, kinda sexting, perving on reader not by Aemond tho, aegon pervy, (probably missed a few but if I miss any let me know so I can add them)
Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat
When Aemond was told heâd be left alone for the day whilst his family did a variety of things that day, he instantly knew with a dark smirk what heâd be doing to occupy the time.
With a smirk, Aemond chucks his phone somewhere on the couch and waits eagerly, practically shooting up from his seat when he hears the doorbell loudly ring and draws him from his thoughts.
As soon as he turns the key and swings the door open, eager arms are locked around his neck, and matching eager lips lock with his own as he kicks the door forcibly shut with his foot and confines you against the wall, effectively trapping you there.
Yet the two of you stay like that for a while. Content with kissing in each others arms. That is however, until you begin to grind yourself against his growing bulge.
âIs my pretty girl getting eager now?â Aemond grins, pulling himself away to admire your swollen lips and lust blown eyes.
âHmm been so since you sent me that text little dragon?â You smirk, looking up at him with hooded eyes.
âLittle dragon?â Aemond smirks, grabbing your chin to look at you dead in the eyes whilst you whimper silently at the sudden turn of situation. Aemond is not gonna be playing nice today.
âGet on the sofa for me darling, and Iâll show you how little this dragon isâŠâ
The small smile you make as you practically sprint to the other room, stripping off your outer layers when you can, makes Aemonds cock harden even more if possible.
He walks into the room only a minute later, and smirks when he sees your naked body laid out all for him, even chuckling slightly when he sees some fading marks of his that he made a couple days ago.
âWhat a good girl I haveâŠâ Aemond murmurs, kneeling before you so he can trail his hand over your body, chuckling again slightly when he sees goosebumps raise where he touches you. âNow, what did I tell you in that text I sent you earlier about what you would get if you came over?â
âYour presenceâŠ.â
âAnd?â
âYour cockâŠâ
âGood girlâŠâ And before you can think of an answer, Aemond surges his head forward and takes your clit in his mouth before sucking harshly, grinning into your warmth when your hands intertwine themselves roughly in his hair, tugging slightly when his nails dig slightly into your thighs.
âOh! Aemond! So good!â You whine. Your eyes screwed shut as you focus only on the feeling of his hot mouth as he begins to suck and lick at your wet cunt. Mixing between tasting your clit and teasing your entrance.
He cannot exactly answer, so he only hums slightly, which seems to make your leg tense quickly before you let out a small moan.
The taste of you on his tongue is addictive. Itâs a unique taste of sweetness and a slight tanginess he cannot get enough of. And it shows as even after youâve already came, his mouth and tongue make no moves to stop, especially as his tongue somehow manages to graze that rough patch inside of you as he pushes himself as that makes your noises turn wanton and almost whorish.
Aemond makes you cum two more times on his tongue before he believes to be done with you.
As he finally disconnects himself from your cunt, aemond canât resist himself from kissing you again, before using his tongue and fingers to get any remanence of your juices from his and your mouths.
Itâs a dirty thing, but it makes the whole thing all that more arousing.
âDo you want me to fuck you now? Do you want me to fuck you until you can still feel me deep inside of you days after? Until even when weâre together, your mind still thinks of what Iâm going to do to you, and you end up rubbing your thighs together desperate for friction like some little wanton bitch in heat?â
âYes yes yes Aemond I want all of that please!â You mewl it so pathetically Aemond almost feels bad for you. Almost⊠âPlease Aemond, please fuck me!â
âIf the good girl wants it that badly, then I suppose the good girl will get itâŠâ
Aemond doesnât start slowly like how he knows you like it. Instead, he begins at a ferocious pace. One that leaves you mewling and panting beneath him so hard he canât help but admire the way your naked breasts shake every time you shakily inhale a breath.
âSuch a good girl I have in my possession huh? A good girl that listens to orders and obeys when told toâŠâ Aemond coos, sadistically smiling and even laughing slightly when he puts a thumb to your lips as a test and without even asking, you open your lips and begin sucking on his thumb as if it was his cock in your mouth.
It was really fucking hotâŠ
âGood girlâŠâ Aemond grunts, positioning you slightly so he gets to bully that rough spot he was hitting earlier with his tongue.
Itâs pure animalistic what the two of you are doing. The only sounds the two of you can hear are the sounds of Aemonds grunts, your high pitched whines, and the sounds of Aemonds wet skin slapping against your own. Itâs all so loud that it sort of creates this bubble between the two.
So loud in fact, that the two of you are utter oblivious to the sound of the car coming up the driveway, and the sound of the front door opening a couple minutes later.
The only way that bubble was popped, was when a frantic voice shouted from the doorway, âWHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK AEMOND?â
The two of you grabbed whatever you could to cover yourselves. You grabbed aemonds shirt to cover your naked torso, whilst Aemond opted for one of the light blue sofa cushions to only cover his still erect cock. Positioning himself to preserve your dignity with his body.
At the end of the day, youâre still his girlfriend who he loves and respects. Even though the way he fucks may not exactly show itâŠ
When the two of you are somewhat decently covered, you both turn to whoever walk in, and hold in equal groans of embarrassment and annoyance when you see Aegons smirking condescending face looking down at you both.
âMy my myâŠlooks like Iâm not the only sexual deviant in this householdâŠâ
âFuck off Aegon! What are you doing back I thought you were on some date with some unfortunate girl of some dating app?â Aemond growled, moving you closer behind him when he saw Aegons eyes attempting to peek at you.
âShe texted as I got halfway saying she got food poisoning or some shit and she needed to reschedule. So I thought Iâd come back and hang out with my little bro. Only to find him balls deep in his pretty little girlfriendâŠâ
âAegon, Iâm warning youâŠ.â Aemonds eyes furrow in anger. And no matter how comforting it is to feel your hand hold his own in a soothing manor, nothing can take away the fact his brother has such a punchable face.
His temper only worsens when he sees that Aegons line of sight is caught on your underwear peaking out from some of your clothes.
âThatâs it!â Aemond shouts, quickly moving to stand much to your surprise. Choosing to ignore you as you start begging him to calm down.
âOkay okay Iâm gonna be in my room so bye little bro!â Aegon awkwardly grins as he quickly begins to sprint to his room up the stairs, before being followed by the sound of his hurried footsteps, and his door opening and slamming shut.
Other than that, Aemond can only hear your concerned voice as you try to stand up, and much to his amusement you stumble straight back down on the sofa.
âOh shut it!â You snap, eyes furrowed as you look at him.
âI said nothing!â Aemond smirks, raising his arms in an innocent manner, dropping the cushion to the floor and laughing slightly when he sees your eyes look over his whole body almost bashfully. Though when he gets close enough to you, he pulls you up into his arms as his thoughts turn to all but innocent things.
âHow long do you think Aegons gonna be here for?â You ask, resting your head on his chest.
âWell heâs been here all his life, so forever. Why?â
âIsnât your room soundproof?â You smirk, and it all makes sense as Aemond matches it with his own devilish grin.
âIt is indeedâŠâ As Aemond lifts you to your surprise and shouts of annoyance, he drags you to his bedroom and slams the door shut hard.
Maybe this time Aegon will learn not to interrupt�
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#modern aemond targaryen x you#modern aemond targaryen x reader#modern hotd#modern!reader#modern aemond x reader#modern aemond#modern!aemond targaryen smut#modern!aemond targaryen x reader#modern!aemond targaryen#modern!aemond x reader#modern!aemond#modern aegon targaryen#hotd modern au#modern house of the dragon#modern!house of the dragon#my works#kinktober 2023#kinktober#my kinktober#aegon targaryen#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen/reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen imagines#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen fanfiction#ewan mitchell character
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You Better Jump... (1 of 2)
neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: â2.5k
Summary: You wake up after a drunk night out to the lock on your door broken. The neighbor who lives in the same apartment complex as you offers to fix it for you.
Warnings: canon divergent (no outbreak) & mentions of Sarah but we don't see or interact with her (AU - she moved out, lives on her own). allusions to further sexual activity between reader and Joel, mainly fluff and flirting and embarrassing interactions that'll give you butterflies, an unhinged best friend (vulgar dialogue from said best friend), cellphone audio connecting elsewhere where other people can hear..., 18+ MDNI. F masturbation in a bathtub, Joel having incredible self control until he doesn't, making out... (I think that's it! As always, let me know if there's anything I missed that should be in here!)
Author's note: I intended for this to be a one shot, but I just know the next part will be pretty long. I still need to write up a few more details for part 2, but it will be posted VERY SOON! For now, please enjoy this. :)
PART 2 HERE (VERY NSFW, 18+ MDNI)!! || MASTERLIST
âShit, I donât even know which lock to get,â you mutter to yourself as you stand helplessly in the middle of the aisle.Â
You went to the bar last night, got a little too drunk for your own good, and when you woke up in the morning, your front doorâs lock was broken. You genuinely donât know how that happened, but you do know that you need to fix it as soon as possible, especially with the fact that you just moved in not too long ago and you live alone.Â
âHey there,â a rough Texan drawl says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You look up to see a tall, broad man. Soft, brown eyes, a mustache and some scruff along his jawline. Heâs clad in a dark blue t-shirt and some jeans. Heâs handsome, and oh god, youâve been completely gawking at him instead of responding. You finally meet his stare, and his eyes twinkle in delight, like heâs enjoying the attention youâre giving him. âOh, hi, uh- Iâm sorry, just kinda zoned out there for a sec,â you ramble on, trying to save yourself from the embarrassment.Â
âOh,â he chuckles, âdonât worry about that.â He smiles, and youâve never experienced anything more beautiful. âI, uh, couldnât help but recognize ya, and overhear ya about the locks?â You give a confused look, and he continues, âI think we live in the same apartment complex. You just moved in a few weeks ago, right? Iâm Joel.âÂ
You are seriously so confused right now because you are so sure you would never forget if you had a neighbor that looks this handsome. And apparently all your defenses are down right now because you just fucking said that out loud.Â
You can see Joelâs cheeks and neck flush into a bright red, his hand shooting up to rub the back of his neck and the blush in your face follows. âHoly shit, I did not just fucking say that out loud,â you groan as you bury your hands into your face. You realize you still havenât introduced your name, so you quickly squeak it out. He tells you itâs nice to meet you followed by your name, and he rambles on, âAnd I, uh, Iâm flattered...youâre, uh, not too bad yourself.â Your head shoots up, and you swear your face cannot get even redder, but somehow it does.Â
He senses that you canât handle anymore of this god awful attempt at flirting, so he saves you by continuing his original thought. âWell, what I was tryna say was- I overheard you sayinâ ya didnât know which lock to choose? Iâm pretty handy in the maintenance department, and Iâve helped a few neighbors in our complex with much more complicated than door locks. Maybe I can help ya?â You feel all the stress from your body completely fade away, and you absolutely take advantage of this beautiful man offering to help with your locks.Â
âOh my god, really? I owe you one, thank you so so much,â you tell him. He smiles. âItâs no trouble at all, darlin,ââ he says as he grabs the correct lock for the apartment complex, âthis is the one weâd need.âÂ
All you came here for was for the lock, but you ended up staying with him and having conversation throughout his entire Home Depot run. Turns out heâs a contractor, used to live in a home but since his daughter moved out he doesnât find the necessity of having a big home for himself. He didnât sell it though, he let his brother and his wife take it over. Very minimalist kind of guy.Â
You forget you two didnât drive to the store together, so youâre almost kind of bummed at the fact that you have to separate from him. He bids you goodbye and says he has to run a few more errands. âShouldnât be more than an hour or two. Is it okay if I swing by your place then?âÂ
Youâve been so entranced by his presence and your guysâ conversation that you forgot the entire reasoning behind why you began talking in the first place, and itâs heavily evident in your confused look. His lip quirks up again, ââŠto fix your door lock,â he adds, amused.Â
You mentally slap your forehead. Fucking get it together, you think to yourself. âYes,â you immediately blabber out as soon as you realize youâve gone quiet again. âYes, thatâs perfect.âÂ
âAlright, darlinâ, Iâll see you in a few,â he says as he shoots you a wink and begins walking in the direction of his truck, and there goes that nickname again.Â
Oh, you are absolutely fucked.
â§*:ïŸâ§*:ïŸâ§
Itâs a ten minute drive back home, and as soon as you get back in the car, you call your best friend and tell her what an absolute fool you made out of yourself.Â
âBITCH,â she screams, gasping for air at how hard sheâs laughing, âI canât fucking stand you, oh my god, Iâm crying.âÂ
âYouâre such a bitch,â you tell her, while tears are also streaming down your face, attempting to catch your breath. âDude, I swear, once you get a good look at him, youâll see what the fuck Iâm talking about, and youâll see my reaction was VALID to such a beautiful looking man.âÂ
She stays on the phone with you for the rest of your little drive, and ends your guysâ conversation with, âIn all seriousness, though, you better jump on that di-â
You gasp out and yell her name, âOH MY GOD, youâre done. Goodbye.âÂ
She cackles, âUpdate me later, babe. I love you.âÂ
âI love you more, you fuckinâ menace,â you say as you park.Â
â§*:ïŸâ§*:ïŸâ§
Your next few hours are filled with you absolutely stressing. You know Joel is just coming to fix the door, but you canât shake away the nerves. So you spend the first hour absolutely deep cleaning your apartment.Â
You still have about maybe an hour left, so you decide to try and calm your nerves some more with a quick bath. You quickly undress and give yourself a quick wash in the shower to wash all of todayâs dirt before you set up your bath.Â
Filling up the tub, you throw in some lavender scented bubbles and light your favorite cashmere vanilla candle, the combination of the scents immediately relaxing you. Maybe a little too relaxed, though, because as you sink deeper into the tub, your body canât help but continue to rise in heat at the thought of Joel. Without thinking, your eyes slowly close and your hand drifts closer to where youâre aching the most.Â
You start by drawing soft circles on your clit, pulling soft little mewls from your throat. The thought of those big rough hands pushes you to move a little faster, and the thought of that scruff rubbing against your inner thigh pushes you to dip your middle and ring finger into your entrance, pumping in and out with such a need you havenât experienced in a while. The sounds coming out of you now are high pitched and whiny, and you canât help the way your body writhes against the bathtub, sloshing water out the sides.Â
Your hips are grinding up against your palm, stimulating your clit while your fingers hit that velvety spot that drives you absolutely mad. You bring your other hand up to your mouth as a reflex to silence your sounds, but an image flashes in your mind that it was Joelâs hand over your mouth instead, and thatâs what ends you.Â
Your eyes clamp shut, head thrown back, spine completely arched, and all you can see are little white fireworks behind your eyelids as your orgasm breaks you, the lukewarm water feeling hotter than when you first drew the bath.Â
You sit there for a moment to catch your breath, willing your body to work since the man you just touched yourself to should be here in any minute.Â
You dry yourself off, putting your hair up in a towel and dressing in some gray sweat-shorts and a tank top, not caring to completely doll your figure since heâs in your home after all. Right as you finish up your skincare, you hear a knock at your door. You take one more look at yourself, and youâre still absolutely flushed with a hint of that orgasmic glow, but you canât bring yourself to care. If he can make you cum like that with just the thought of him, youâre absolutely gonna take your best friendâs advice from earlier.Â
â§*:ïŸâ§*:ïŸâ§
You open the door for him and immediately the heat you tried to save yourself from is back, tenfold. âHey, darlinâ,â he says with a smile. The nickname makes the butterflies in your tummy flutter harder than before. You give a sweet smile back. Itâs his turn to melt, but you donât clock it as easily as he can with you.Â
He steps inside, a little closer to you, and immediately he falls to his knees. You watch him, wide-eyed, as he pulls out a few little tools from his back pocket, and suddenly you realize you were holding your breath. Here he is, wasting no time getting started on fixing your door for you while you stare at him like heâs giving you a strip tease, all because he got down on his knees.Â
You clear your throat, trying to regain your composure, and you offer, âC-can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, tea?âÂ
He looks up at you, and he cannot get enough. Your flushed cheeks, the way your body language shows your excitement and nerves all in one, your towel lopsided on your head. So goddamn beautiful, he thinks to himself. Again, itâs his turn as he zones out in his thoughts, but this time, you do notice, and you canât help but feel a sense of confidence shoot down your spine at the fact that youâre affecting him just as much as he affects you.Â
Your smirk grows the longer he stares, and finally he realizes whatâs happening, and his face goes tomato red. Heâs pretty sure no one has ever seen him blush this much since he was a teenager. âSome water would be wonderful, sweetheart, thank you,â he says, thanking whatever God in existence that his words were coherent and not a blubbering mess like his brain.Â
âComing right up,â you say, and make your way into your kitchen, thankful for the little private moment to yourself. As you grab Joel a cup and fill it with ice and water, you feel your phone ring in your pocket. Itâs your best friend. You bring your phone to your ear, hitting the answer button on the way up.Â
âHello?â you repeat several times before you hear your best friend, but not through your phone. Forgetting the water for a minute, you scramble to the living room, where Joel is right next to, to hear your best friend coming from your living room speaker: Hello? Can you hear me?? I said did you jump on sexy neighborâs dick ye-
You hurriedly end the call and throw your phone across the room. Your heart starts to pound even harder when you see Joel in your peripheral view, still working hard on the lock, but he is definitely in the proximity to have seen and heard everything. You quickly turn back to the kitchen to grab the glass, purposely avoiding Joelâs eye.
Quickly you grab the glass and place it on the little table near the front door. Joel sits back on his haunches for a moment and takes a long gulp of the ice cold water. Too amused at the display that happened moments ago, he canât help himself when he says, âSo⊠sounds like ya got your hands full with that friend of yours, hm?â He looks up at you with mischief in his eye.Â
And just like that, any sense of confidence you had at having the upper hand over this Texan man went down the drain. You completely fumble. âOh- I- yeah, my best friend⊠Did you hear- Fuck, no, of course you heard, I-âÂ
Joel pulls himself up to stand at full height, now towering over you. He brings his pointer finger and thumb to your chin, pulling you to meet his eyes while also pulling you from the hole you keep digging deeper. You immediately shut up. He has a crooked grin plastered on his face when he says, âI didnât hear a thing,â followed by a wink. You can feel your knees wanting to buckle. You breathily squeak out an okay and he assures you with another okay in response. You two stare into each otherâs eyes for a moment before Joel, without thinking, says, âLet me take ya out to dinner.âÂ
You slowly pull away from his grasp, afraid youâre invading his space even though he just asked you out on a date. He takes it as a sign of discomfort and immediately creates an armâs length of space between you. âI-Iâm sorry if I overstepped or made you uncomfor-âÂ
âNo, Joel, hey,â you cut him off quickly, stepping slightly closer. âYou just surprised me, thatâs all. Iâd love to go to dinner with you,â you beam up at him, your bottom lip wedged in your mouth to ease your nervousness. âI just pulled away because I didnât wanna make you uncomfortable or anything,â you quickly add.Â
âThatâll never happen,â he softly says. He steps closer again. âIâm sorry, but I- Shit, okay, Iâm a gentleman through and through, but I-â he pauses for a moment, âI just- I really need to kiss you-âÂ
You donât let him finish his thought as you grab onto his arms and pull him into you, guiding both his arms around your lower back and guiding your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Itâs a battle of teeth and tongue, and the way your noses bump each other ever so often is enough for you to completely buckle. His hold on you is tight enough to keep you standing, but you truly donât know how much more of this you can take with a certain bulge pushing into your lower belly. His one hand falls lower and testing the waters, he lightly grasps onto your asscheek. You moan into his mouth at that, and he takes that as your signal for him to fully grab you, hiking you up onto your tippy toes in an attempt to consume more of you. He breaks the kiss a little to give you some airflow back, but he doesnât pull away. Instead, he brings his kisses to the side of your mouth, to your cheek, gliding down your jaw and neck, licking and nipping anywhere you give him access to.Â
You were right. Itâs not quite exactly your thighs like you were imagining earlier, but the way his plump lips, mustache, and scruff feel along your neck is absolutely sinful and addicting, andâŠ
Oh, you are absolutely fucked.Â
Author's note - extended: I hope you guys enjoyed this enough to tune in to part 2! The 2nd part will be very SMUTTY, so... ;)
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou smut#smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller x female reader#pedro pascal#endless thoughts fics
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Under Cotton and Calicoes
Pairing: Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x f!reader Warnings: Orgasm control, outdoor sex, smut. Word count: ~1.6k
Summary: In the space between darkness and light, her and Osferth discover the freedom to be exactly as they are.
Author's note: Day eight of the Smuffmas prompts - "sunrise and orgasm control". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
She climbs the grassy embankment, picking each step carefully in the darkness. The dew drops that cover the soft surface dampen the bottom of her skirt, but she finds the coolness of it against her bare ankles refreshing.
This is her favourite time of day, the hours that linger between darkness and light, when the sky hovers over the horizon with muted hues of blush pink and lilac. She often finds herself in this spot, looking out over Wintanceaster as it still sleeps, her mind flooded with all she had hoped for when she had first arrived here, and all that this place has stolen away from her since.
When she had left her fatherâs small farmstead she had been in search of freedom, an escape from the mundane. Wintanceaster had seemed lively and exciting, full of opportunity, though she swiftly learned that this only applies if you are a man.
She had taken a job at the alehouse to begin with. She is not quite sure how she ended up in the employment of the local brothel, a temporary arrangement for additional coin that had somehow become permanent. She cannot deny that the money she stashes away now is a larger sum than what she had earned serving flagons of ale and bowls of stew, however, with every man that molds their flesh to hers she cannot help but feel she has simply escaped one entrapment to fall into another; the scenery has changed, yet the shackles remain the same. Once the money beneath her pillow reaches a sufficient quantity, she will leave this place. For now, she is resigned to looking upon it in the cold light of dawn.
In the empty space she occupies in the twilight hours, she is not the daughter of a farmer, she is not a whore, she is simply her, free to think on her dreams as the sky lightens and the day begins anew.
Her head turns, the rustle of footsteps alerting her to a presence beside her.
âForgive me, my lady, I did not mean to startle you. I thought I was alone.â
She recognises him. A holy man that has accompanied the warriors that travelled here a few days prior. Though his piety is not without question, when she considers the two visits he has made to her place of employment since arriving here. The two women he had laid with had fought viciously over him.
âHmm,â she smiles softly, âI thought I was alone too.â
He swallows thickly, blue eyes averting their gaze as he clasps his hands behind his back. âIf youâd prefer to be alone, I can alwaysââ
Ordinarily, she would balk at the idea of being alone in the darkness with a strange man, but she feels perfectly safe in the gentle presence of this one. He means her no harm.
âStay,â she interjects, âthere is room enough for two. You are Osferth?â
He nods and enquires after her name, bowing slightly as she tells him. The formality of the gesture almost makes her want to laugh.
âI see that sleep evades you too, my lady,â he says, moving to stand beside her, cocking his head as he glances sideways at her.
âIt often does,â she sighs, looking out at the horizon. âBut I prefer this time of day. It is freeing to not feel obligated, to simplyââ
âBe yourself?â He finishes for her, with a raise of his eyebrow.
âSo you understand. Is that why you do not sleep either?â
âI understand more than Iâd care to admit,â he tells her, scraping his boot against the ground, an obvious gesture of discomfort.
âBut you travel in the company of Uhtred of Bebbanburg, what could you possibly have to escape from? Heroism?â
She chuckles drily, causing him to frown as he bows his head, pursing his lips tightly.
âI am a bastard,â he states simply.
âNo shame in being a bastard,â she says with a shrug.
âSo I am told, but I am nothing more until I prove otherwise. King Alfredâs bastard, the baby monk, I have to fight every day to be seen as more. All I want to be isâŠOsferth. Simply Osferth.â
She softens, turning towards him, eyes half lidded in sympathetic understanding. âI doubt it provides any comfort, but to me you are simply Osferth.â
âIt provides more comfort than you could possibly understand, my lady,â he admits quietly, large eyes staring into hers.
She studies his features silently, the sharp jut of his jaw, his high cheekbones, the straightness of his nose. He is beautiful when the time is taken to really study him, and without thinking her hand reaches up, fingers tracing the outline of his features.
He steps back quickly, eyes widening slightly in surprise. âI have no silver to pay you.â
Her hand drops back to her side as she feels her skin grow hot with embarrassment. âHow silly of me to think you could actually understand,â she says bitterly, looking away.
âI did not mean to offend you,â he tells her, his tone pleading as he steps towards her once more.
She shakes her head. âYou have not. It is foolish of me to think I could ever be seen as anything more than a whore.â
Osferthâs brow furrows, and he grasps her hand in his. The touch of his flesh against hers feels as though she has been branded, yet she does not jerk away.
âYou are so much more.â
âYou do not know me.â
âI would like to.â
She looks up at him, taken aback by how impossibly close he is to her, his breath fans across her face as his gaze locks with hers.
âWhy?â She whispers.
âThere is a reason I did not choose you over those other women,â he says earnestly. âYou are beautiful, my lady, worth more than any payment I could possibly give.â
âThen I shall not accept your payment,â she breathes, leaning up to press her lips to his.
He responds in kind, leaning down, and the hand not holding hers reaches up to cup her cheek, his large palm enveloping her skin in its warmth. His lips are soft, yet his kiss is firm and tender. She savours the intimacy of it, sighing softly as her body relaxes against his.
âAre you sure you wish to do this?â He utters, as they reluctantly draw back, foreheads pressed together.
Her pulse races, her core throbbing with need, surrounded by his earthy scent and the heat that radiates off of him. She has never been more certain of anything in her life.
She captures his lips with hers once more in silent answer, and his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her tighter against him.
As they drop to their knees, she pushes him back by the shoulder, shifting to straddle him. Their hands are almost frenzied, their breaths coming in hurried puffs, in their rush to push up her skirt and his robe, before he tugs down his trousers and breeches enough to free himself.
It is only then that they slow the pace. His head falls back against the damp grass as she takes him in her hand, a quiet groan escaping him as she rubs the tip of his hardened cock through her rapidly gathering slick. Sliding herself against it, she repeats the motion, back and forth, preparing herself to take him inside.
His hands disappear beneath her dress, fingers indenting into her hips as he whimpers quietly. âPlease, my lady, I will not last if you keep this up.â
She giggles, raising up to guide him to her opening. âPatience, sweet Osferth.â
They both sigh in relief as she sinks down upon him, the length of him stretching her in a way that guides the head of him to brush against a patch inside of her that steals her breath away.
The pace she sets is unhurried, slowly rocking herself atop him, revelling in the exquisite torture of having him touch upon that particular place over and over. If ever she were to experience what it is to be worshipped then this surely must be it. His hold on her hips is almost bruising, made all the more divine when juxtaposed with the reverence of his gaze as he looks up at her, brows pinched together and jaw slack.
She moans, head tipping back as she allows her movements to become faster and more determined. In her peripheral vision she sees the first golden rays of morning breaching the inky blackness of the sky.
Osferth pulsates inside of her, his breathing now reduced to ragged pants. âOh, please, Iâm going toââ
âNot yet,â she whispers, slowing her pace, working her way towards the pinnacle of the ever tightening knot in her gut. âWith me.â
His fingertips press tighter into the meat of her, his eyes screwing shut. She brings herself down upon him once, twice, three times more, chasing the sensation thatâs about to crest over her, until she finally lets go, closing her eyes and tightening around him with a pleasured cry.
He grunts, bucking upwards, holding her against him as she feels him twitch, spilling himself inside of her. As she catches her breath, eyes blinking open, the dull orange of the sun has chased away the darkness almost entirely, its faint hues slowly lightening the surrounding fields and expanse of the town below them.Â
For once, she exists exactly as she is outside the cover of twilight hours, and it gives her hope.
Osferth pulls himself to sit up, keeping himself buried inside of her as she remains in his lap, and they wrap their arms around each other.
âWhen I return, I will find you,â he whispers.
âPerhaps by then I will finally be free to live as I please.â
âI would like that for both of us,â he replies.
But for now, they will always have this moment, kept immortal in the quiet of dawn.
#osferth x reader#ewan mitchell#osferth x you#osferth x y/n#osferth imagine#osferth smut#osferth the last kingdom#the last kingdom osferth#osferth fan fiction#osferth fanfiction#osferth tlk#tlk osferth#osferth fanfic#osferth fan fic#the last kingdom#tlk#the last kingdom smut#tlk smut#the last kingdom fan fiction#the last kingdom fanfiction#the last kingdom fanfic#the last kingdom fan fic
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Mourning âtil Dawn Fandom: DCxDP Teen (minor descriptions of injuries, vivisection, off-screen deaths) For the @dpxdcbigbang Inspired by a prompt by tourettesdog where Agent O is a GIW whistleblower.
Arc 2: Healing now live!
Teaser:
Diana holds Dannyâs hand between her palms. He lets out a shuddering breath and she bows her head until their hands are pressed to her forehead. From the outside, it looks as if they are posed in prayer.
It isnât too far from the truth. Diana begs favor from her patron gods. Begs for relief, begs for rest. âWould you like some more ice, brave one?â
âI feel like Iâm going to throw up. Why does this suck so much? Ecto-Dejecto never made me sick like this before.â
Diana hums, taps a slow rhythm against the back of Dannyâs hand. To give him something to concentrate on. âHow about a few crackers?â Danny makes a retching sound and smiles when Diana huffs. âIf not crackers, maybe a story? I have many League adventures that are amusing. Or stories of the gods.â
Another shiver wracks through Danny. He huffs out a small cloud of mist. âUgh. Um, silly League stories. Theyâre much better than mine.â
âThen shall we trade, little warrior? A League story for a ghost story, it is a fair exchange.â And her eyes gleam a little bit when Danny manages a laugh. Diana finds it admirable and endearing that Dannyâs sense of humor has been as durable as the teen.Â
âYou first,â Danny declares. âHang on, I think Iâm going to sneeze and itâs going to be disgusting.â
âThe color is amusing at least,â Diana offers as she grabs a tissue. âYouâre already better than this morning. The fever has definitely lessened.â
The tissue is wadded up and tossed away, but not until Diana confirms the snot is indeed day-glo green. âGhost biology is weird. Yeah, my headache is better too.â
âYeah?â She pushes his bangs back. âA good sign. How do your wounds feel?â
He flaps his free hand in a circle. âNot as painful, mostly itchy. Weirdly slimy. Did you know human bodies make mucus to heal most things? Human biology is weird too!â A beat. âWait! You promised a story.â
âI believe I negotiated for a trade, little warrior.â Diana lets herself sound smug. âHm, thereâs a lot. I donât know where to start. Iâve been a hero a long time.â
Somehow, Danny weedles hours of stories from her. A number of Leaguersâ ears are probably burning, particularly Batman and Flash. Reluctantly Danny shares a few of his own heroic tales. She especially loves the story with Jazz and Youngblood.Â
He holds things back. Diana can tell. Whether he fears her reaction or wants to obfuscate the real danger he was in, Diana does not know. His stories come with the realization how alone Danny has been. She canât stop herself from praising him.
âWithout a mentor! Impressive. Utilizing the inventions available and optimizing them for your own use is incredible. We can teach how to be a good hero, but we cannot teach how to be clever or how to adapt. You should be proud, I hope you are.â
At Dannyâs silence, Diana realizes she has been rambling. She smiles ruefully at him. Shocked, she leans closer to his bed. Her cheeks hurt from how hard sheâs smiling.
Danny squints at her. His eyes are barely cracked open. She can just begin to see how blue they are.
âThere you are.â
He closes his eyes, squints them back open. Dianaâs heart clenches.
âHello, brave one. Please call me Diana.â He clings to her, one hand in hers and the other on her bicep. She slots their joined hands underneath her chin.
âWould you like to see space?â
#dc x dp#dpxdc#my writing#danny phantom#The Ghouls and Gangs Big Bang#it was IMPOSSIBLE to pick a teaser#I love so much of this Arc
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(un)mentionables â fem!reader x satoru gojo
notes: real talk. i used to have this really cute light blue lingerie set and that was the inspo + aleks talking about gojo's massive dick ripping through lacy panties. that doesn't happen here, though, sorry lmaoo. uh. don't know what else to say. this is part of the infinite loop ficverse.
wc: 1.3k
contains: fem!reader (no pronouns or gendered language), suggestive situations but not anything explicit, pre-relationship (one day i'll write this established relationship fic for these idiots but not today)
You think you might as well be dead.
Ultimately, you have no one to blame but yourself for this; you should have known better than to let Gojo grab the spare water bottle from your overnight bag. In fact, you should have known better than to let him anywhere near your overnight bag. Itâs not that you think him the type to just go rifling through your things without an ounce of respect for your privacy; itâs just that you know that Gojo has a knack for putting you in mortifying situations as if heâs being paid to.
âWell, well, well, whatâs this?â
You whip your head around so violently that you feel a pulse of pain throughout your skull, but it is quickly forgotten when you see what this is. Gojo has certainly found the water bottle youâd offered him, but, somehow, looped around the bottleâs neck is a pair of lacy, sky blue panties that youâd haphazardly thrown into your overnight bag.
Thereâs little that youâd like more than passing away right here on the spot.
Gojo gingerly plucks your underwear from the bottle and shoots you a roguish grin, his eyebrows lifting suggestively. âDidnât think you were the type to wear lace.â
You scowl and march over to him, hand whipping out to snatch your panties back from him. Surprisingly, he lets you, and you ball them up tightly in your fist. âYouâre right, I prefer cotton.â
âThen where did those come from?â Gojo points at the bright blue fabric peeking through your fingers.
âHow is that any of your business?â you snap.
âJust curious,â Gojo says nonchalantly. Heâs still smiling though, and it annoys you.
âCuriosity killed the cat.â You roll your eyes as you toss the panties back in your bag behind him.
âAnd satisfaction brought it back,â Gojo finishes the entire idiom. Of course heâd know the last half of it. âSince youâre saying that, does that mean youâre going to tell me?â
Your eye twitches as you weigh your options. Refusing is the most obvious and natural option, but Gojo is nothing if not persistent. He wonât shut up if he really wants to know that badly. You donât know why he would, but then again, he probably just would pester you for the sake of being annoying. Sometimes, itâs easier to just give him what he wants so you can move on. So thatâs what you decide to do, looking away as you admit, â...it had a matching bra that was really cute.â
Gojo is silent. Unnaturally so. You would have expected him to fire off some wise ass quip, so this response, or lack of, is actually a little unnerving. Starting to feel a touch concerned, you look at Gojo, and though you cannot see the focus of his gaze with that blindfold in the way, you can just tell that heâs staring at you.
Youâre not sure if you should feel proud over the fact that youâve rendered the famous motor mouth Satoru Gojo speechless.
Itâs over in an instant though, as his mouth moves to finally speak.
âShow me.â
His voice is low, quiet, as if heâd breathed out the words without even realizing it.
A strange feeling runs straight down the length of your spine, leaving you breathless, the staccato rhythm of your heartbeat almost deafening you. That was unexpected; his words, his tone, all of it.
You gawk at Gojo, trying to figure what to make of it, and he is still in a way that he never is. His lips are slightly parted, and you have no doubt that he is still staring at you, but you cannot even begin to imagine the shade of his eyes right now. Is it the bright shining aquamarine of the sky? Or the dark glimmering sapphire of the sea?
You donât know. You donât know. You want to though; you want to know. You want to rip that blindfold off to find out. You want to memorize every shade and every hue. You want toâ
When you realize where your train of thought is heading you shake your head, senses returning to you with a start. You donât know how two words managed to hijack your thoughts like that, but you will have none of it. Back on track, you demand, âWhy the hell would I show you?â
Gojoâs lips curve upwards into a familiar grin, and youâre secretly relieved that he seems to be back to normal too. âFeelinâ shy? Weâre both adults here.â
You know what heâs doing, but youâre not playing that game. Thereâs a lot of things Satoru Gojo can goad you into, but this is not and will not be one of them. âThatâs beside the point.â
âThought you said it was cute,â Gojo says, not giving up.
âOh, trust me, it is,â you respond. âBut Iâm not showing you.â
âWhy not?â
âIâ Gojo, you canât seriously be asking me this,â you groan.
âIâve seen you in a swimsuit before,â Gojo points out matter-of-factly. âIs there really a difference between that and lingerie?â
His question gives you pause. Technically, you see his point. Technically. But heâs not quite right. âYou are not someone I would be showing my lingerie off to. We are not like that.â
âMeaning you showed it to that loser ex-boyfriend of yours?â Gojo asks flatly.
You actually bought the set after you broke up, but Gojo doesnât know that. âAnd if I did?â
(Annoyance, white hot and all consuming eats a hole in Satoru's stomach. He doesn't get why he's so mad. It makes sense. It makes sense.
You'd dated that lame excuse of an assistant manager for nearly a year, so it would make sense if he'd seen youâ
Splayed beneath him. Disheveled. Exposed. Sky blue lace hugging your hips. A soft smile playing at your parted lips, kiss swollen and hungry for more, begging for more.
God, Satoru wishes heâ
His entire body feels hot. Satoru's not sure if it's the rage or something else.)
"You and him aren't like that anymore, so I don't see the problem," Gojo says with a shrug.
If you could kill Satoru Gojo you would do so in a heartbeat. "Gojo, don't be ridiculous."
"Can't help it; it's my speciality," he says, cheekily sticking his tongue out. He tilts his head to the side, and though you canât see directly, you can just imagine the expectant look in his eyes.
"Iâm not showing you.â
Gojo pouts. If he thinks thatâs going to convince you, he may as well quit his job as a jujutsu sorcerer and start a career as a stand-up comedian. âDo you really think itâs fair to let dumb losers see the supposedly cute lingerie when super cool and strong sorcerers like me get left in the dark?â
âLifeâs not fair,â you dead pan at Gojo. Though itâs not like someone like him would really get that. âAnd heâs not a loser, you are.â
âOh, so does that mean youâll let me see?â
âIââ You start before grumbling. This is getting nowhere. At this rate the both of you will be bickering back and forth until the end of the night and you, for one, would like to have dinner (not with Gojo). âYou know what, fine. Iâll show you, but if and only if, we run across some freaky-ass curse that melts clothes.â
You think your proposition is impossible. In fact, you're sure of it. So much so, that you think Gojo will call you out on it.
But he doesn't.
Instead, he grins with eager childlike excitement. "Really? You serious?"
You don't get his reaction. He does know that the chances of that happening are basically one in a bazillion, right? But then again, Gojo is a complete weirdo so you don't question it. Shrugging, you answer. "Yeah, sure."
Finding said freaky-ass curse that melts away just clothes sounds damn near impossible, so you don't see the harm in agreeing. There's basically no way you'll run into one, meaning no way you'll be giving Gojo an eyeful of your cute lacy sky blue lingerie.
You find out that Satoru Gojo must be the luckiest bastard on the face of the planet, because you end up eating your words two weeks later.
gojo why are you so pathetic lmao.
#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk x reader#nikuniku fics#infinite loop!verse#idk what else to say#in case anyone was wondering#the bra in question was a lacy racerback bra#actually he shouldn't be let near that#bitch is gonna break the front clasp omfg
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I realise that this might not be soemthing your interested in writing (and that's ok ily). Just wanted to tell you that after finishing the Dark mafia bucky (not bunny and clyde) I cannot stop thinking about how angsty it could get after the last main part.
Like i, myself, would not be able to handle that shit mentally. Like Reader staying in the bedroom all day because she's so worried and paranoid about soemone seeing her and laughing or soemthing after her... time... with bucky at work. Everytime bucky comes home minory upset or angry she goes into defence mode because she's worried he thinks she has betrayed him again. She can't sleep without him hugging her because all she can imagine is that somehow Rumlow survived and is gonan come kill the both of them.
I'm sorry I love in angst central sometimes <3
Thank you nonnie ilyt đ You are so spot on with this đđŒ
Here is the link to the very dark fic if you are interested
Yeah I think his little bird is going to be so nervous from now on, but I think Bucky would be ok with it you know?
Like he doesn't mind if you don't wanna leave the house because it means he knows where you are and he can watch you on his cameras like a crazy man.
And imagine if his little bird is in his office you always dash under the desk when anyone comes in so you don't have to face them. He chuckles and strokes your hair as you cling to his leg. You sometimes watch as he pulls his cock out of his trousers under the desk and take it in your hand to give you something to focus on.
When you do have to face them you can't work out if they are thinking about it or not. Thinking about how you looked that day, how they applauded and jeered at you, now smiling and being somewhat respectful. It makes you cling to Bucky closer and press your face into his arm or chest for comfort. Your face burns when they chuckle at you, but at least Bucky holds your tighter.
đŠ
I think any time he's angry you go very defensive and jumpy. Normally when he's angry he gets it out at work or the gym, so he only comes home really angry very rarely.
You shuffle around the house as you hear him shouting down the phone, slamming doors and all sorts. You plant yourself on the floor where he sits on the sofa, having left your dress on the floor and you shiver in your underwear.
Finally he appears and finds you waiting then for him and be flops down on the sofa and smiles. "Ah there's my little bird, waiting just for me huh?"
You nod and rest your arms on his thighs, smiling up at him, letting him stroke your face and run his fingers through your hair. "Thought you might have had a bad day?" You say softly and gently massage his legs, hands drifting higher, making him sigh.
"You worrying about me birdie? Did I make you nervous?" He smiles and pinches your chin pulling you forwards until you are straddling his lap, his hands squeezing at your waist.
"Hmm, tell me baby, you feeling nervous again?"
You nod and nibble at your finger, sitting down more comfortably on his lap, eyes stinging a little bit. "Don't want you to be mad..." You whisper, as he grips your face between his big hands.
"I'm not mad anymore baby, remember. It's all fixed. All fine now..." He smiles gently, stroking your cheeks and leaning upwards to press little kisses to your nose and cheeks.
You let out a shaky sigh and smile at him, but your heart still hums quickly in your chest.
đŠ
You do often wake in the night, screaming, reliving that night where you pulled the trigger. Your body covered in sweat and hands shaking as you struggle to see anything in the darkness.
"Ssshh baby it's ok" you hear Bucky murmur as he pulls you in close to him, letting your sobs wrack through your body. "I gotcha."
"What if he comes back?" You sob as your fingers cling to the thick muscles of Bucky's back, fingers tracing along old scars.
"Ain't gonna happen pretty girl, I promise..."
He rolls over until he's on top, your eyes finally adjusting to the dark see his serious blue eyes staring at you. "He's never gonna come back, and you are safe with me, ok?"
You nod and let him press kisses to your forehead and you cling to him tighter still. You feel his hand wrap around your thigh and lift it higher. His cock is guided into your heat and you gasp as he slides himself slowly into you.
You still feel sensitive from the evenings escapades but that's what helps him glide into you, your body so responsive. "Good girl, always ready for me hmm? You feel that? Feel how easily you take me?"
Your body feels on fire as he gently rocks into you. He presses kisses to your face, licking away tears as you groan.
"My baby, you got nothing to worry about anymore. Just relax, just let me make it all better ok?"
đŠ
Ooof yes very angsty but I'm a sucker for a happy ending so I feel like they'll work it out đ€
#dark bucky x reader#dark mafia bucky#mafia!bucky x reader#bucky angst#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky imagine
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Ice Planet Freaks - Ice Planet Barbarians fic.
NSFW, MDNI -
Reader x OC Sa-Kuhi (alien man)
The floor is freezing, your head spinning with confusion and wooziness. Thereâs a foul smell in the air but your senses are returning to you slowly. Your mind as fogged as it is though, knows that something is wrong. And not just because thereâs several enormous, blue-gray men standing across from you.
+
âHeâs the leader, heâs the one insisting on us taking this parasite.â One of the girls growls. You canât bother to remember any of their names, not when the reality of aliens had just been dropped on you. Worse, the fact that youâd been abducted by a completely different race of aliens than the ones who were now trying to help you.
You were still hoping to wake up from this nightmare.
The beast fell with a massive, not-earth shaking rumble and the others bring you with them, surrounding the thing while the alien leader and his woman go about pulling parts out of the beast.Â
You feel your face pale when the return from the depths of the thing with a long, writhing rope-like thing. It would resemble a snake, if it werenât for itâs lack of face and the thinness of it.
Words are exchanged, and the woman - Georgie, you remember just as the leader slices into her neck - is visibly uneasy, but when she looks to the leader, she seems put at ease.
The worm-thing slides into her neck, burrowing down and in until she collapses, the big leader catching her before she can fall.
Your legs quiver, vision going hazy for a moment, your mouth going dry and stomach churning - then youâre gone.
+
âDrink this.â A voice murmurs, but you canât see who it is. Itâs one of the women from the group, you can tell that much from her soft tone and the fact you can understand her.
Something presses to your lips, warm and utterly delicious. You drink the entirety of it in only a few short moments.
âMore-â You pant, suddenly ravenous. Your head is much clearer than it was when you were freezing outside before, like a fog has been lifted and youâve finally been granted access to your own mind again.
Something is said in a guttural, uneven accent and for a moment you almost think you can make out the words of it.
âShe canât-â the womanâs voice protests.
âMake her.â The voice- undoubtedly male and annoyed states.
Your eyes crack open, and thereâs only the dim glow of torchlight keeping the womanâs face lit. Sheâs one of the others, the ones whoâd broken you out of the tube youâd been stored in, but sheâs different somehow.
âWelcome to your new home.â She says, with an uneasy, apologetic smile.Â
Your eyes flash over the room, and land on the giant blue man leaning on the wall opposite you.Â
Your mind spins, the whole room going with it, and you have to lean back down on the warm bed to regain your ability to think.
It hadnât been a dream. It was real - is real and youâre currently on a world that isnât earth but also inhabited by aliensâŠÂ
You want to scream but all if it seems just like your kind of luck.
âCan I at least know if thereâs alcohol here?â
The girl laughs, and the man stiffens, pushing away from the wall.
âSheâs asking about ahh⊠Kolcharr-â She makes a motion with her hands like drinking.
âIf thatâs what she wants I will gladly provide-â
âWho are you, anyway?â You spit the words like an accusation. Heâs trying to be nice but something about his presence in your seemingly private quarters annoys you.
âYour Resonance, human.âÂ
âTarvir, give us a few moments for me to explain.â The woman requests, holding out a hand to him as he approaches.Â
He takes a long, slow look at you in the bed before nodding, and walking out the hide-door.
+
Sheâs human. Iâve waited a century for my mate to be a human woman with no horns or tail or-
No, I cannot be ungrateful when thereâs other males who would kill for an opportunity to have a mate. Even if she is angry and withdrawn and unnerving.
âTarvir!â Vektal calls, motioning me over to the wide landing where we share feasts when a hunter returns with a large prize.Â
I fear what he may say to me, as strange as it is. On top of it, leaving my Resonance behind feels worse than any physical pain Iâve had in a long time. I touch the scarred flesh at my ribs from my encounter with the snowcats.Â
Perhaps she is more dangerous than a snowcat, and my body is telling me to avoid her. Yet still, my resonance hums deep inside me.Â
âThe humans have rules. You must give her time to gain her strength back before-â Vektalâs voice is low, his eyes scanning the small crowd that is our tribe below. Theyâve taken to showing the humans our cave, pride shining in every word.
âHer Kuhi resonates as well. She is mine, VektalâŠâ The words sound strange coming out, choked and tearful when I should be happy. Something deep inside me wells with despair and a fear that I do not understand though.Â
Vektal puts a muscled hand on my shoulder and squeezes, a reassuring gesture. My tail canât help but rise with renewed hope in his confidence. âThe Humans are weak,I know your fears. But with the Kuhi now a part of them, they will be alright. You will live a long, happy life with your mate, Tarvir.â He says, and i can see the knowledge of the words in his face. His mate, his Georgie has changed him, and I can only hope my own mate greets me with such enthusiasm as Georgie did for him.
His words feel reassuring, and I cannot explain the leaping in my chest when his eyes go over my shoulder. Itâs fear and excitement together, a strange mix of emotion Iâve never felt aside from when my mate is near.Â
And of course, when I turn around she is squinting with her strange flat face into the cave, down at the glowing pools and my people and hers below. I watch her and watch, my chest thrumming with anticipation of what her reaction will be.
Her eyes dart about, from the open roof of the cave that gives us light from our sky, to the carved walls and hide doors. Her eyes are strange, filled with white still even after accepting the Kuhi, but I can learn to love them. I can learn to love all of her, should she let me. Vektal is right, they need to be given the choice, but if her Kuhi does respond.. How is that anything but acceptance?
My chest thrumming, I begin walking towards my mate and the other human female. Her head snaps in my direction, as wild and untamed as a snowcat as she eyes me.
Then, she pushes off the half-wall overlooking my people below, and vomits on the floor.
I rush to her, already calling for our healer. Has she eaten something poisonous? Surely the Kuhi had healed her of any of her human sicknesses by now. It made no sense, she should be as strong and capable as any of us with the Kuhi in her.
âTarvir?â She pants when Iâm lifting her from the ground. She is light as a Kit in my arms, and her soft skin makes my cock harden. I put away the impulsive thought, she is cleaelry sick and needs tending to.Â
âI am here my Resonance.â I reassure her, hope filling my chest. Sheâs able to speak, that is good. If only she would stop being so confused about things. I stop my ungrateful thinking. Vektal had said they are unknowledgeable and as helpless as even the youngest Kits, I must keep that in mind when caring for my mate.
It will be a challenge, especially for one as impatient as I can be. I will learn, and make myself a better mate for her, though.
+
His skin is supple, the corded muscle beneath the silken skin a delectable contrast to what one would expect. A rumbling in your ears nearly drowns out his cooing words as he chatters to you. Heâs huge, and carries you like a childâs stuffed animal, but with utmost care.Â
Heâs tall and built like a house, not lithe like Vektal, a bit thicker in the chest and his face was less angular. He was what youâd think a lumberjack version of these guys probably was, a huntsman of sorts.Â
Great, youâd scored the burly version of their people. You couldnât have gotten the supermodel one, like Georgie had?Â
âThis is real.â Youâd been repeating it, over and over again since Tarvir had guided you inside the room, one you now recognized was likely his. You were his mate, after all. Thatâs what one of the girls had told you, and though you wanted to deny it, there was no other reason you could think of to explain the humming in your chest.Â
âItâs to make the best offspring, Iâd guess.â She supplied with an uneasy smile.
So, you were expected to make an alien-baby with the guy whoâd brought you here, whoâd insisted upon being your mate⊠But you couldnât exactly blame him. You doubted he had much of a say in the matter either. And looking at him, you were glad that he was at least in one piece, unlike the one that had stolen Liz away.Â
And Tarvir hadnât stolen you away, that was also a good point to be made towards his character.
Names and information were slowly coming back to you now, like your dream-state had still absorbed all the information around you while you were in the tube.Â
âSo what do you want from me?â You ask the blue man, crossing your arms over your chest. Your head is still dizzy but at least while sitting you can catch your breath somewhat.Â
His large brow scrunches together, his head cocking to one side like a dog. Itâs charming on him, and it makes the corner of your lip curl in an almost smile.Â
âWant?â He repeats, leaning in towards you. Heâs close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him, and the furs suddenly feel much to warm on you, but itâs a comfort youâd been lacking for the time youâd been in the ship. You clutch them tighter around yourself.Â
You try again, the language barrier clearly at play in this conversation. âWhy.. why me?â The words are barely a whisper when you say them, and you can feel your cheeks heat with the way the question sounded so juvenile.Â
His hands frame your face, forcing you to look into his magnificently blue eyes. Your heart thunders, the blood rushing in your ears almost too loud for you to hear him. Only, itâs not just blood, its the Cootie thatâs also humming now. The throbbing of it reaching from your chest to your groin in a drumbeat of horniness.
His breath is sweet as he speaks, entrancing you further. âI want you. Only you. I want whatever you will allow me to have, whatever your own wants are will become mine, and we will live happily together. Whatever it is I want, it is only because you wish for it as well.â
Your heart soars, the rumbling in your chest spiking. Your breath is shallow and uneven as you fight the urge to grab on to his horns and pull him in for a demanding kiss. Itâs just the cootie, thatâs all thatâs making you feel this way.Â
But his words⊠You groan and lean back in the bed, freezing in place when he slides in beside you. Itâs not like you can kick him out after heâd just said something sweeter than any human had ever said.Â
âMy Resonance, whatever your wants are will be mine, I promise. So if you wish to lay here, I will do the same. Until you ask me to leave, I will always be here.â He places a hand on your chest, and itâs a weight you canât describe as anything but needed.Â
His presence alone is already so comforting, is it because of this thing inside you now or because you truly are already falling for him? How couldnât a girl, when their man spoke like a freaking shakespeare play?Â
âThis is real.â You breathe, and look over to him.Â
Heâs staring at you, eyes full of wonder and admiration. You turn on your side to face him, but his hand on your chest doesnât move from itâs spot, as if waiting for you to do something with it. Heâs waiting for your permission, you realize.Â
You take his hand and bring it to your cheek, then kiss the soft skinned blue man for the first time. In his cave. On a different planet. After youâve been freshly given a parasite.Â
Yup, totally real and not a dream.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
My humanâs skin is soft, and so very different from my own. Itâs not a bad thing, but strangely intoxicating as I breathe in her scent and her lips press against my own. This is a strange sensation, but Iâve seen Vektal and Georgie do this, and know that it must be some kind of acceptance of our bond together.
My heart soars. Sheâs accepted me, at least on this physical level. If she is willing to press her lips to my own, it may be similar to humans as mating is to us. Will I need to show her what mating truly means to us? Surely the lip-pressing doesnât create human kits on their world, does it?Â
I am silently cursing Vektal for not giving us more information when my human rolls on top of me, straddling my waist. My cock is achingly hard and I feel shame for it, she may not be ready for such kinds of mating ritual-
She grinds her hips down onto me and I suck in a breath, my eyes going wide in surprise at the heat I can feel from her with even two layers between us. I growl and bear my teeth, my fingers digging in to her soft hips as she sways atop me. My Kuhi is humming violently, filling my space with the sounds of our shared pleasure, fueling my drive as I arch into her.
She wouldnât be doing this if she did not accept our bond. I sit up and take her small face in my hand, bringing our lips together again. This is a strange talent that I must learn, and what a better time than now? It sends shocks of pleasure through my body at her taste, the way she touches me back is delicious and more precious than the twin-suns.Â
âNeed your cock-â She pants against my skin. Sheâs already left love-bites on my shoulder and I am ecstatic at this. Many of the mated pairs in the tribe share love-bite ink marks to signify their love for each other. I hope my human will want the same for us.Â
Iâm off the bed the instant she rolls off of me, stripping off her own clothes. Mine are much faster to remove, so I take the pleasure in removing her tunic ties as she undoes the laces at her borrowed trousers. They look ridiculous on her, tied in different places and cuffed at the bottoms to stay up, but they are mine and I am proud to share any part of myself with her.Â
She moves to take my cock in her hand and as much as Iâd love to feel her soft grip upon me, I catch her wrist in my hand and move her to lie back on my bed. I pull her hips forward, off the edge and wrap her legs around my shoulders. Iâve never had a lover of my own people, but Iâve heard enough.Â
I lap at her slowly, and her taste is like seeing new colors, scenting new spices. I groan, my kuhi responding with desperation as I gorge myself on her wetness. My cock is rock solid and dripping with lubricant, but as much as I want to bury myself inside her, I resist. Iâve heard enough stories from the mated males about this that I know they like it slow at first, a building thing.Â
But my human seems to not want this. She grips my horns and pulls me close, like she wants me elsewhere, and I worry for a moment that Iâm hurting her. I relent my lapping at her entrance, and look up at her. Her maine is tangled and I make a note to help her wash it later, but the delicious flush of her cheeks has me dripping to the floor of the cave.Â
She pulls me, and I place my lips every inch of the way up her body, but she stops me, moaning in a particular spot. She pushes me back down, and I cock my head to the side. Does she want me or not?Â
She removes a hand from one of my horns and reaches for her sex. I nearly protest her touching herself when I am right here, but she rubs a small circle over the very top of her opening, and I see it then. Ahh- This is what Vektal had mentioned, the nipple.Â
I nudge her fingers out of the way and lap at it slowly. It is a strange bud, less similar to how I imagined nipples and feeling much more like sucking the meat from the river-creatures that live in the streams in the summer time. I dare not bite my Resonance, though. I know this is working for my mate, because she writhes below me, her hips arching off my bed and her cries growing louder as I increase the speed of my tongue.Â
Her hands are gripping my horns, holding me in place with her desperate pleading. I do not relent my tongue upon her, even when sheâs panting âPlease, pleaseââ because she hasnât pushed me away. I do not know if this part is the human custom, but she isnât pushing away, so I continue.Â
Her slickness is better than any catch, even the rarest. Sheâs warm and balanced and I canât imagine how Iâve lived before having this. Sheâs saying something about moving or going somewhere when her thighs suddenly crash against my head, deafening me. I keep my mouth open as she rocks and shudders upon my tongue. I use a hand to ease the aching in my cock, relieving some of the pressure sheâs caused me to build.Â
I cannot tell if sheâs like the other humans, or if this mating is strange for them. After her thighs ease from my head I go to lick her more, but she pushes me away with a strange, small foot. She waves me toward her, wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling me down atop her.
Her hand goes to grip my cock once I am holding myself above her, and I cannot deny my own need for any longer.
The moment her small hand wraps around me, my mind goes blank aside from the pleasure of it.
+
Heâs huge. Okay, heâs massive, thick and veiny and with the built in ridges it has you seeing stars before heâs even entered you.Â
But heâd just made you come so hard that you need more, and your clit is much too overstimulated. You guide the crown of him to your entrance, and he sucks in a sharp breath. Yeah, you doubt heâll last long, which is a good thing considering his size. Heâs thick and muscled and holy shit, the ridges feel amazing.Â
The first inch of him is a stretch already, and he pulls out to spread your wetness and his own along his shaft. His re entry is smoother, drawing moans from both of you. Heâs shuddering within the first few minutes, and with those kinds of muscles you know its not because heâs getting tired.Â
You adjust your hips, angling upwards more and your mind goes blank. Heâs brushing your g-spot already, and heâs only making shallow thrusts. Your legs squeeze him, pulling him in harder and your eyes roll back. God, heâs perfect for you- your nails bite into his soft skin and you think he likes it, because he leans down and places a bite mark on your shoulder, the elongated canine teeth leaving gentle pock marks where they intended your skin. He looks there proudly, and slams into you. The slapping sound of his thighs meeting yours echoes through his home, and your moans join it.
Youâre wet, dribbling wet and itâs about halfway through fucking that you notice his hands arenât what keeps brushing over your clit, but a second, smaller and softer dick that has been nudging you the whole time. Your legs quiver at the idea of it alone, all the things that it could do-
He stiffens when your insides clench around him, his thrusting faltering for a moment. Then, heâs gripping your hips and lifting you, pulling you forward with every one of his thrusts into you. His pace is demanding and with the g-spot stimulation and his second dick⊠Youâre a mess. You're spilling profanities and cursing him to the worst places imaginable. Thankfully, he doesnât understand what half the shit youâre saying means. Doubly thankful, he doesnât stop his relentless assault on that tender spot inside of you.Â
The ridges on his dick are fucking incredible as he pulls out and slams back in, and it heightens the experience even more. Thereâs no chance youâre not going to cum from this. Itâs hard to hold back, and with the new positioning youâre nearly drooling with the immense pleasure of it all. The second he palms your breasts, your eyes squeeze shut and youâre trying to hold back your climax, but it washes over you anyway. youâre squirming, cumming on him with an intense sense of need and belonging. Youâre sent through the peaks of it relentlessly, his second dick rubbing away at your clit as you ride through it. Itâs intense and demanding and possibly the most mind-shattering fuck youâve ever had. Even without the whole giant-blue-alien-mate thing.
He doesnât stop thrusting, and as you pant and groan heâs bringing you into another orgasm with the way his other member rubs against you. His strokes are becoming frantic, feral and completely brutal as he fucks deep inside you. Your pussy clenches, milking him and he snarls something in his language that you donât yet know. He stiffens, providing only shallow thrusts that have you seeing stars. Your body is jelly as he pumps into you, then heâs tightening his hold, his blunt nails digging into your skin. His eyes flare, and you can tell heâs wishing he had the restraint to keep fucking you.
Heâs groaning, a guttural feral sound that is like a sweet song in your ears. He spills inside you, pulsing and twitching and god heâs gorgeous and so sweet as he fills you. He licks at your neck and flicks his bumpy tongue over your nipples, his hands going to cradle you in his arms.Â
His tail is wrapped around your ankle like some kind of anchor point as you lose yourself in the pleasure of it all.Â
Youâre brushing his hair back and nuzzling into his neck the moment he lies down beside you, pulling you into his embrace. Like youâve been lovers for your entire lives.Â
His plan is likely to be just that.
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new tricks
pairing: yandere abyss prince kaeya x gender neutral reader
cw: dark content, kidnapping/capture, the reader is treated physically well but is still captured/being held against their will, mentions of a punishment, strange and toxic dynamic, mildly suggestive.
wc: 2.1k
a/n: dividers by @/cafekitsune!
this is just a tiny drabble. don't squint at worldbuilding or plot lol. i had this idea prattling around my head and wanted it out. one day i will write the dark long fic of my dreams but today is not the day. thank you to @/lorelune for taking a peek beforehand and assuring me <33
on the back of your neck, goosebumps ripple to life. a chill races down your spine. you know it wellâas intimately as you know the brag of your own heart.
sensing him, you cast your eyes up in the reflection of your mirror to catch the shape of him behind you.
you didnât even hear him enter your chambers. but youâd felt him somehow, known his presence. maybe known his gaze on you.
(it burns deep and vicious to know his gaze. to become accustomed and attuned to him.)
prince kaeya smiles knowingly.
the dark glint to his eye lets you know heâs in strange ways.
âyouâre getting quite perceptive.â he muses. âif only youâd been so sharp when i first took you, maybe you wouldnât be here.â
you were just a naive artist from mondstadt then. a child who knew the sound of the wind in the trees and the birdsong that rose into the sky early in the morning. you knew the golden hills and the valley and a sort of freedom that made you sing like those birds in the morning, too.
(in the dark, he asks you to sing. sing like you used to, he says. and when you open your mouth, youâre always terrified of what will come out.)
now you sit tucked away in the gilded cage heâs made for you in a land far from your home skies. in a castle where the eyes of gods cannot reach you.
âyouâre lucky i wasnât.â you reply sharply, trying to keep your bite around him.
it grows harder and harder to.
every day the edge youâve tried so desperately to keep begins to whittle away. itâs hard to always be angry. itâs miserable to always be vicious.
(and heâs never harmed you. not physicallyâjust in stranger, worse ways. emotionally. mentally. you wish heâd just break a bone or make a scar, so that when it heals, you know youâre okay again.
itâs worse that he spoils you. itâs worse that he cherishes you. itâs its own form of torment. he knows it.)
he smiles lazily, on the edges are amusement. fondness. he is endlessly entertained by your contempt.
he approaches where you sit in front of your ornate vanity. itâs too beautiful. itâs too grand.
heâs a dark shadow of blue behind you in the mirror. you watch his reflection carefully. he watches you back as he approaches.
something thrills inside you, wild and dark and sudden.
he reaches out, touches your cheek.
you watch his knuckle brush against your face in the mirror.
heâs testing you.
the last time you bit him.
the moment you turn your face towards his hand, it slips away, dancing out of your reach.
he smiles again knowingly.
itâs insufferable.
sensing your ire, he says, âletâs play our game.â
you breathe hard through your nose.
you turn to face him so youâre not caught in his endless reflection. you glare up at him with all the vitriol you can muster.
(it isnât much anymore.)
âdonât you have more important things to do?â
ânothing so important as you, darling.â
your teeth grind together. but you get out;
âiâd try to escape from the balcony.â
he tsks.
âthe guards would spot you.â
âiâd poison the guards.â
he laughs outright at this, âwith what poison?â
you feel heat in your face, but you press on, âthe hemlock iâve been growing in the garden.â
he pauses at that. tilts his head.
âmy, youâve gotten good. i canât tell if youâre lying.â
âgo and check.â you dare.
âmaybe later.â he agrees, âsay i destroyed it. i froze it.â
âyouâre not playing fair.â you accuse.
he laughs warmly, reaching out again to tousle your hair. you swat and push at him, but it only excites him, it only makes his hands catch your wrists and come down to your level. kneeling beside you. he holds your wrists tight, presses them down into your own lap. in another world, he could be a lover on his knees for you, his hands clasped over yours.
he fits himself between your legs. he presses himself too close.
but it isnât another world. and his eye is like the endless night sky in this one. so dark, so terrifying.
âfine,â he agrees pleasantly, âthe guards are poisoned. you slip out from the balcony. iâm a light sleeperâi hear you jump to the ground.â
âi try to run.â you breathe.
âwhere would you run?â he asks, nose nudging yours. you can feel the sharp cut of his foxish smile.
âpast the fountain.â
âcome now, youâre cleverer than that. iâd find you and drag you back.â
âiâd kick and scream. iâd make you bleed.â
âyouâve done that all before, it doesnât stop me anymore.â
your nails bite into his shoulders as he lifts you from your place in front of the vanity. you hang around his neck like a child. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist.
you tuck your face into his shoulder so you donât see the pleased look in his eye.
you know where heâll take you.
âyou need new tricks.â he hums as he sits on the edge of the bed with you in his lap.
âmaybe i already have themâif itâs a good trick, you wouldnât know.â you mumble into his shoulder. you hide there.
his hand creeps up to the back of your neck. goosebumps prickle. his fingers slip into your hair and then curl into a loose fist. he tugs gently to dislodge you from his shoulder, to pull you away so that he may see your face again.
he looks at you as if heâs trying to find the trick you speak of. perhaps itâs in your eyes or the set of your mouth.
âi always know.â he warns.
âletâs play again.â you say.
and this time, you use your weight to push him down onto the bed.
he goes down willingly, too easily.
you capture his wrists the way he did to you earlier. you pin them by his head. languidly, he stretches beneath you, amused with this show of sudden power or interest.
âokay, you begin.â he says and his smile is the curve of a laughing, crescent moon.
âi grow to trust you.â
he tilts his head, uncertain or intrigued, you canât tell. but you can tell youâve surprised him. his smile falters.
âiâm pleasedâyou know itâs all i want.â he says and though itâs softened, itâs guarded. you can feel the way he tenses beneath you, waiting, searching.
âand i grow toâto want you, too.â you say and your voice sounds strange to your own ears. far off. maybe too near. not your own, or else, horrifyingly, only yours.
perhaps there is truth there in a way you cannot even begin to untangle.
heâs silent. watching.
âwhat do you do?â you prompt, breath hitching, almost beg him to speak. âplay the game. itâs your turn.â
you feel his wrists flex, the tendons and muscles moving, encircled in your fingers.
âiâcherish you. i foster your desires. i give you whatever you want.â his voice is bedroom soft. his lashes flutter.
âfreedom?â
he releases a slow breath of frustration. you feel it against your cheek.
âa form of it.â he answers. and then, carefully, you feel the shifting of his hand beneath yours. his thumb sweeps over your wrist, into your palm. âmore and more as i grow to trust you, too.â
you let your hand open up to his, feel it bloom to the touch.
âbeing alone in the garden.â you press, âi ask you one day to tend to it by myself, when i please.â
he laces his fingers with yours.
âin time.â he agrees, âand you can tend to your garden alone. you can walk on the grounds, wherever you please. you can take dinner in the atrium or the greenhouse or by the lake. it could all be yours.â
you squeeze his hand, âsay i earn your trustâletâs finish the game.â
âi give you the world.â he breathes it and you feel it against your lips, feel it somewhere deep inside of you. on the other, soft side of your chest, where your heart thrums.
you know he is telling the truth.
but it rings discordant inside of you. just as softly, you murmur;
âand then i disappear with it. you wait for me to come in from the garden one dayâand i never do.â
the tender hold of your hand turns vicious, biting.
you bare your teeth and hiss, âi steal your world and your trust and the love you gave me and i run and run and run. until you canât find meâuntil you canât catch me. i do it when you least expect itâwhen i love you too much.â
he pushes and twists you under him. he presses you down hard like he could keep you from disappearing, like youâre slipping from him already. but you press on;
âand youâll see my face everywhereâin the windows of the atrium and the corners of the greenhouse. in the hemlock i grew in the garden and the wind that howls while you stand on the balcony. but iâll be goneââ
âyouâll never earn my trust now.â he warns, âand youâll never know the garden alone, or the world i could give you.â
âbut iâll know the one you took from me.â
his eye flashes dangerously, the flicker of frigid, dark waters beneath ice.
but then heâs gone. off of you. the warmth of him leaves you in a rush.
he grabs for a coat of his, throwing it over his shoulders in a flare of dark fabric.
âwhere are you going? i thought you wanted to play.â you sneer.
âand i thought you didnât?â he heads for the door anyways, âiâm going to the garden. alone.â
âscared youâll find hemlock?â you ask.
âare you scared iâll find hemlock?â he retorts and then lowers his voice, almost to a caress, âi would punish you.â
âyouâve done that all before, it doesnât stop me anymore.â you tilt your head, âmaybe you need new tricks.â
the door slams behind him. you donât even flinch.
and in a moment, you watch his figure, a dark smudge against the gray fog, trudge out towards the garden.
you watch from the balcony.
there is no hemlock in the garden.
and he is gentler again when he returns that night. but he locks the door to the balcony and he keeps the key tethered around his neck, pressed to you as he holds you; so close and yet so far.
you can feel itâs cool metal against your bare back. you can feel his skin to yours, the way he holds you like youâre going to slip away.
there is no hemlock in the garden, but there is nightshade.
âletâs play our game.â he whispers that night, pressing scattered kisses like falling stars along your shoulder, your jaw.
âi steal the key around your throat. i unlock the balcony doorââ
âi hear you. i let you go, anyways.â
you go perfectly still.
âiâi climb down the balcony and i runââ
âpast the fountain?â
you nod slowly. you feel your heart kick into an unsteady rhythm.
âi let you go. i let you get far.â
âyouâd let meââ
your throat constricts; a ball of emotion wedged there suddenly. you feel your eyes prick withâwith shock. is he reallyâ?
something terrified stirs inside you at even the thought of your real freedom; of the thing you want most.
âand then i hunt you.â
he kisses beneath your ear, like a lover.
your blood goes cold.
âi chase you across the world i gave you and the one i took from you. and every time, i find you. iâd find you. and iâd drag you back.â
âiâdâiâd kick and scream. iâd make you bleed.â you manage to get out.
he props himself up, if only to catch your chin, to force you to look back at him.
he kisses you. slowly. sweetly.
âthereâs no hemlock in the garden. you need new tricks.â
but the nightshade opens its flowers to the moon, just outside the locked door of your balcony, in the garden that you canât tend to alone.
you melt into the kiss, open mouthed and tender. soft and deep like lovers.
when you pull away, you have the key dangling in your hand;
âand this isnât the key to the balcony. so do you.â
when he kisses you again, brutal and dreadful, and with too much heat for someone so, so cold, you feel the sharp cut of his foxish smile.
and maybe even some sick curve of your own.
#cielo writes!#cielo's writing!#kaeya x reader#abyss prince kaeya x reader#kaeya alberich x reader#kaeya x you#kaeya x y/n#cw: suggestive#cw: kidnapping#cw: yandere
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some early fluffy msr featuring once again a very tired scully and a worried mulder. if i end up writing more vignettes like these i might start posting them on ao3. this is set a few days after the first pfaster incident.
â
Mulder should really wake her up.
Not only is sleeping on the desk incredibly uncomfortableâspeaking from a lot of experienceâbut he also knows that her first reaction to realising she fell asleep at work will be shame. She is slumped over in her usual chair, angled towards him and with her back to the door; every now and then she makes a little noise and buries her face deeper into the cradle of her arms.
Her blazer has ridden up her back and her blouse with it, revealing not soft skin but a deep-blue, slowly healing bruise. There are several more littering her entire body, and Mulder has caught her wincing or hissing in pain more times than he can count, swallowing the needle of guilt that comes with it. The memory of her sobbing into his chest is at the forefront of his mind, impermeable and achingly bright, and he regrets not shooting Pfaster dead right where he stood.
Scully had insisted on going back to work and shrugged off any and all attempts at getting her medical attention, eventually telling him to 'leave her alone or so help me god'. Not wanting to push, he had, and yet, seeing the shadows under her eyes match her bruises more and more, he wishes he had said somethingâanythingâif just to make sure she is not hurting more than can be avoided.
It is not difficult to guess what exactly is keeping her up at night, and this is not the first or the last time a harrowing experience haunted them all the way home. Nightmares are as much part of the job as paperwork, and he would carry it all for her if he could.
Mulder watches her lips part for a sigh, a week's worth of fatigue finally catching up with her, and his indecision disappears entirely. He quietly pushes back his chair and tiptoes around their office, first taking the phones off the hook, then switching off their cellphones too. If anyone wanted something from them (and 'anyone' was almost exclusively Skinner), they were going to have to wait.
After locking the door, he turns off the ceiling light, picks up his coat, and gently drapes it over her shoulders; the heavy fabric wraps around her like a cocoon, making her appear even smaller than she already was. Shifting for a few seconds, Scully seems to adjust to the new weight and influx of warmth, but she quickly settles again with sleep softening her features. Hesitantly, Mulder reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, disproportionately endeared by the content noise he gets in response.
In the late afternoon twilight, her red hair is littered with specks of gold, and he cannot resist the urge to run a palm over the back of her head to smooth it down further. Leaning in, he presses a tender kiss on her temple, murmuring "_sweet dreams"_ before he can second-guess himself.
Mulder knows he cannot change what happened or the lingering trauma she is inevitably struggling with, but he can allow her to get the rest she needs, if just for a little while, his gaze never straying far from her. No uninvited visitors disturb her peace, and he busies himself with expense reports and filing while she naps.Â
The sun sets, the moon rises, and a handful of hours later, he catches her lashes fluttering and fingers twitching as she finds her way back to consciousness.
Contrary to his initial assumption, Scully doesn't seem to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, but rather leans back and pulls his coat tighter around herself. Her eyes are clear, and he can spot the beginning of a smile tugging on her lips. He breathes against the sudden wave of anxiety washing over him, worried that he somehow overstepped.
"Better?"
Scully nods, letting out a puff of air and looking away as a blush rises to her cheeks.
"Thank you," she whispers, extending her arm to take his hand, which was starting to make a mess of the files without him noticing. Mulder squeezes it in return, his thumb unconsciously drawing circles along her knuckles. Unsure of how to deal with the emotions surging between them, he bites back the joke on his tongue and settles for honesty instead.
"If you everâyou can call. Anytime. Odds are I'm probably up anyway, and if-" he stumbles, mentally preparing himself to see her walls slot back into place, but she is meeting his gaze with steady, familiar affection.Â
"If that's something I can do, please. Let me."
Scully squeezes his hand one more time before pulling back, carefully pushing herself upright. His coat is swallowing her, merging her with the creeping shadows on the wall, and her hair is a flame, drawing him in like a moth to the light. His light.Â
"Dinner? Your choice."
Mulder smiles, recognising the offer for what it is: gratitude and affirmation wrapped in one.
"Let's go."
(When Scully calls him later in the early morning hours, they end up falling asleep together, and seeing her lively and infinitely less tired at work is worth the phone bills he continues to amass over the next few weeks.)
#alex writes x files#txf#the x files#x files#dana scully#fox mulder#scully x mulder#mulder x scully#msr#txf fanfic#msr fanfic
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taking fate into one's own hands
06âunderstanding
Word count: 1.6k
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âThe harbour.â you say quickly. âIâd like to see the harbour.âÂ
Morax smiles tentatively and nods. âAlright. That can be arranged. I shall return in an hour.â
You nod and close the door behind you, breathing a sigh of relief. Your relief quickly dissipates as you look at the clothes in your hands. Surely, all these items can't just be for one outfit, right? You turn to Alanna, but sheâs goneâshe must have slipped out while you were talking to the king.
You lay each piece out on your bed and try to figure it out. It seems you have three pieces per outfit here, which is a relief, but even with that, you have no idea what goes where. Where on Teyvat did Alanna go?
You sigh at the colours on your bed, and instead of fretting over how to wear them, you decide to take a soak in your tub to ease your mounting nerves. Perhaps you are being a little stubborn. Itâs frustrating, not knwoing exactly where you stand. Moraxâs words must be true, for you do not have proof otherwise, but even so. This arrangement is confusing. But Alannaâs words ring out in your head, and if your being here is for your own good somehow, it would not hurt to make a friend out of the king.
You leave your bath, resolved to be cordial to the Morax, as he has been to you. Perhaps if you do not question him too much, he will naturally reveal the information you wish to know. Alanna has returned from her excursion, having discovered the secrets of traditional Liyuean dress on her travels. She explains each layer to you, even though she knows you will use it as an excuse to give her a break whenever you get dressed for an outing. With each word, she notices the way you visibly relax, and when you say you want to wear the brown set, a colour associated with not only Liyue, but the ruler himself, she does not flinch, nor question you. With a simple nod and barely leashed smile, she puts herself to work.
Morax, on the other hand, finds himself somewhat unsettled. During negotiations, he had been promised a placid and pleasant princess, and so far you had only proved one of those things to be true. Despite your stubbornness, you are pleasant to be around. Much more pleasant than most of the dignitaries he has found himself in company with recently. But he had not been informed of your intelligence, and he now realises that it may cause him some strife. Although he has finished all the tasks he planned for today, he finds himself at his desk once again, reading through requests from his people and noting down the things he finds most important in order to forget his future arrangements with you.Â
âI am glad the two of you are getting along. It may do you well to have a friend.â Xiao says as he enters the room.Â
Morax makes a sound that bears an uncanny resemblance to a snort. âI would suggest you wait before firing off the celebratory lights.â
âAlways the pessimist.â
âI assume you mean realist. Be frank with me, Xiao. thereâs no way that you truly believe she will not find fault in her parentâs reasoning.â Your parents had essentially resigned themselves to death in sending you here, and despite everything, morax can't bear to tell you the truth.Â
âI believe she will appreciate your honesty.â
âWhy do I continue to discuss this topic with you?â
âWhy does the sun rise in the east and set in the west?â
Morax stares at the prince blankly. The prince stares back.Â
~~~
âDid you find the chance to read that letter from your parents?â Alanna asks you as she finishes tying a bow out of the ribbons on your clothes. You sigh as you glance over at your desk, the worn paper and the blue-green seal utterly out of place in the luxurious room.Â
âI havenât found the time to.â a lie so preposterous that you cannot even bring yourself to conceal it. You have all the time in the world, but looking at that letter would make it seem like itâs slipping from your fingers. Itâs too much for you to face. âAnd I am afraid of what is inside.â
You look up from your nails as Alanna silently pushes the letter towards you, and you sigh. âAlright.â
Reading the letter fills you with questions, and you resolve to ask Morax about them. What is this hidden threat that your parents cannot talk about, but seem to be so afraid of? He will tell you whatever he knows, no matter what it takes. You will make sure of it.
âYour Highness,â
âI am fine, Alanna. I simply wish to go to the harbour already. This room is suddenly feeling cramped.â
âUnderstood.â Alanna says quietly. Even though she knows your wors werenât a subtle hint of her to moveâas many would interpret it asâshe excuses herself anyway. To where? You do not know.
You read over your letter, once, twice, thrice, and no new discoveries come to light. You parents had become more secretive as time went on, but you never imagined they could reach these heights.
A knock on your door drags you out of these thoughts, and you pull yourself together as you approach the door. You expect to see a member of the palace help, but no, it is Morax, with his hair untied once again, thick silky ribbons of it falling over his shoulders. You canât quite tell if youâre staring or not. On the other hand. Morax is acutely aware of the fact heâs staring at you. Maybe it's the determination in your eyes or the fact that you're wearing his colours⊠He never would have expected it to cause such a response in him.
He would never deny your beauty, but amidst the turbulence of your first few days here, he might have found himself too preoccupied with thoughts of frustration to really look at you properly. And now he has the chance to; he seems to be enjoying it more than he should reasonably allow himself to.
He clears his throat, and you jump ever so slightly, covering it up with a stubborn cough.
âI thought you might like a brief tour of the palace before we head toward the harbour. I am told you forewent the tour originally. Iâm sure it is stifling, always being in your room.â
You want to scold him for making assumptions, but he is correct, and Alannaâs words ring through your head again. âIt wouldnât hurt to make a friend.â
So, you steel your face, and you smile. âAlright.â
Morax finds himself somewhat shocked at how easily you agreed. No contest, no look of exasperation⊠heâs about to question whether youâre feeling well before you speak up.
âI fear I might have been impolite,â You say as you walk down a particularly boring flight of stairs. Despite the fact it was his idea, the king has been relative vague in his descriptions of each room. He seems to only be showing you the things you might find interestingâthe library, the gardens, the steam rooms and the pools. He walks at a steady pace, slow enough for you to take the time to take in each room, even though you can tell he normally walks faster. It's this steady pace that allows you to notice the slight stutter in his steps at your apology.
âThat is alright. I understand the situation is tense for you. I do not begrudge you for it at all.â
This time, it's you who pauses. âI donât understand you.â
âYou have made that point very clear. I appreciate your transparency.â Youâre sure you're making it up, but thereâs a slight tone of mirth in his voice. âIâm afraid there is nothing else of interest here. Shall we head to the harbour? Around this time of year, the clothing stalls get new fabrics, and jewellers receive the best stones. If you crave any foods from home, iâm sure we might find one or two.â
You exit the palace through the doors you came through when you first arrived. A soldier at the gates nods his head to the king, but otherwise, there isnât much fanfare. How can a king roam his own nation without any guards? You fight the urge to question his newfound friendliness, as he hasn't questioned you on yours and strangely enough, you are enjoying this. Even if it is only a little bit.Â
âYou have sunsettias here?â
âNot that I know of. However, our harvest was bountiful this year and we often trade our surplus with other nations. Iâm sure there will be vendors with sunsettias to spare.â
âI'm sure that when faced with their king, many vendors would find themselves stocking regional specialities from other nations.â
âI think youâll find that a decent number of my people do not recognise the king when he is taking a casual stroll.â
âIf I were to walk the street at home, I doubt my people would recognise me either,â you reply. It is only a passing comment, one that flies out of your mouth before you can stop it, but Morax seems to catch the melancholy undertones. The letter from your parents flashes in your mind, and instead of feeling frustrated, you just feel a little sad. Your parents clearly feel hopeless about something they cannot share with you, and it hurts.
âI am sorry you had to leave.â Morax replies quietly. âI do not know how I would fare away from home. You have my condolences.â
You nod in response. Silence falls between you as you continue your leisurely stroll to the harbour.
notes: reader losing her mind every time Zhongli has his hair down is my fave part of this series and DEFINITELY has nothing to do with me hahahahhaahahaha
anyway it's so nice to be back I missed it here
Taglist: @tartigglez @ainescribe @blue-sapphire-ink
#genshin x reader#zhongli#zhongli x reader#zhongli fluff#zhongli fan fiction#genshin fanfiction#choose your own path#[đ§Ą]âtaking fate into oneâs own hands#zhongli fan fic#genshin fluff#genshin impact#zhongli fanfic#fanfiction#zhongli royalty au#royalty au#genshin polls#polls
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