#‘why did you stop?’ / ‘i thought you looked like a lost soul’

[bluvlet]

intentions.

[httpsleclerc]

the story of us

pairing/s: Max Verstappen x Sister!Reader, Eventual Charles Leclerc x Single Mom!Verstappen!Reader

eries summary: after a traumatic childhood, y/n verstappen leaves an abusive relationship with a 6 month old baby in tow, with her brother trying to discreetly matchmake her with a certain Monegasque.

warnings: DEPICTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE, BABY TRAPPING, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, ANGST!!

word count: 2.4k words

a/n: praying this shit does not flop I put my heart and soul into this one - also ! This one is mostly just backstory!

the first time you ever met Charles Leclerc, you were 9 years old, sporting a poorly hidden bruise under your eye which your so called father had given you for 'talking back' after he had yelled at you for Max losing. You didn't understand that, why was it your problem if Max lost - although he didn't really lose, as such, he came second or third, but in your dad's opinion? They were the first to lose. You had wandered off from your father, claiming that you needed to get yourself a drink of water, but you knew that Max had just came second, Charles had beaten him and you could already see how mad your dad was going to be, you'd seen his grip tightening on the barrier, his face growing more and more red as Max fell further and further behind the young Monegasque. 

"And Charles Leclerc of Monaco is our winner for today, congratulations Charles!"

Your heart ached at the announcement, as now it was confirmed what awaited you when you got home. You sighed, taking the last gulp of your water as you made your way back to the small podium area, seeing who you assumed to be Charles' family cheering him on after winning - You frowned at the very thought of a loving and functional family, you knew that your mother loved you, but she didn't by any means particularly like you, it didn't seem like anyone did, since you only apparently existed as your fathers punching bag and your mom was only interested in you when it was her weekend with you and Max. Spotting your father, you weaved your way through the crowd, your heartbeat increasing as you silently stood beside him, quietly praying that if you were quiet enough, he might not sense your presence and maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't be punished for your brother coming second.

Looking down at his father from the 2nd place spot on the small podium set-up, Max frowned as he looked at Jos and then to you - He was 13, yet somehow understood that this, him coming second, would somehow be your fault, and you would be the one to take the beating from Jos. It was cruel, but it was all you and Max had known, since your mother had taken only your older sister and not you - Max had guessed you had been getting punished since Jos assumed if Max had to watch you suffer the consequences of you losing, then it would make him perform better. In some way, maybe it did - But maybe it just scared Max that one day his father would take it too far, and instead of icing bruises under your eye, he would be calling the police.

From his spot on the podium, he flinched slightly as he saw your father harshly grab your wrist, dragging you through the crowd and away to the car - Max would know to hang back for a bit, he had seen Jos hit you enough to know that it would just end in him feeling such overwhelming guilt for not winning and therefore stopping anything from happening to you.

However

Jos' beatings of you had not gone unnoticed, as the young Monegasque winner of the day had made his way to his families car, his two brothers and parents already inside, he found you, sitting on the wet grass beside your fathers car, shivering and sobbing.

"Um...are you okay?" He asked you awkwardly, unsure of how to either help or console you. When you looked up at him, he immediately recognised you - You were Max's sister, it was obvious, since you two were sometimes mistaken for twins despite having a 4 year age gap. You sniffled and nodded - Which Charles knew to be a lie, the make up which attempted to cover a barely healed bruise under your eye had worn off, and a new bruise under your other eye, along with a cut on your cheek and a busted lip proved that you had taken yet another beating from your father. He frowned, he had only heard rumours that Jos Verstappen was...unhinged - But he had never thought them to be true in this way, despite being the same age as your brother, Charles knew that you were a defenceless child, and so was Max - Yet everyone was too fearful of Jos to help either of you.

"Charles, let's go!" He stammered, looking between you and his older brother, impatient to get home and out of the wet. You hadn't said a word to him, only silently begging him to please, tell someone, about what your father was doing to you and your brother - At this point, you would take living with your mom, even if it meant your existence was ignored, anything would be better than this.

"I have to go, but I hope to see you again soon," Charles offered you a genuine smile, waving back at you as he walked to his family car, shutting the door and staring off at you as they left the track.

You sighed sadly as you dropped your head between your knees once more - You knew that this was only a part of what awaited you when you got home, but some part of you hoped that he would make you walk home, so you could take as long as you liked, and maybe by the time you got home, he would forget about the brutality he had planned out for you as soon as you walked through the doors.

Like that ever happened.

13 Years Later

You had apparently never escaped your dad.

Put better, you had never escaped men like your dad.

Thanks to the way you had been raised and how you had been treated by the man who was supposed to show you how you should expect to be treated by a man, you had ended up with a string of awful boyfriends, who in the end, received a very verbal and intensive warning from your older brother. Most of them ran away with their tails between their legs at the mention of Max's name.

But one had stuck around longer than the others, going as far to get you pregnant with your daughter, Romy. Max had been convinced you were ready to leave him until he baby trapped you, he knew that would send you running back to him, with the hopes of having the happy family you never got to have yourself. He had been fine with you the entire time you were pregnant, even managing to almost convince Max that he had changed, and that he was ready to look after you and your daughter.

Lukas was different, you told Max. You told him that Lukas looked after you and your unborn child, especially after finding out that you were carrying a baby girl. You told Max that he doted on you, talking to your bump like Romy could hear him, which he argued that she could, since she kicked at the sound of his voice.

And for a while, Max was convinced that Lukas had changed, he had changed his mind on the idea that you had been baby trapped and that maybe it had purely been an unplanned pregnancy.

How wrong he was.

After the birth of Romy, everything went back to normal - You weren't allowed to talk to your brother, you could only go out when he let you, Victoria and Max weren't allowed to come and visit their niece, you weren't allowed to have your phone. It was around 6 months after having Romy when you realised that you had to leave, you couldn't bring your baby girl up like this, and have her turn out like you? Absolutely not.

You wanted your girl to have a chance in this world, you wanted to break the cycle.

So that's what you did.

During the night, while you had Romy settled after her feed and your boyfriend was asleep, you slipped out onto the balcony, your phone in your shaking hands as you dialled Max's number, praying that he would either be awake normally or on streaming.

"Hold on guys, I don't know who is calling...me," Max's joking demeanour dropped as he saw your face flash across the screen. He hadn't heard from you since you stopped returning his calls after you had Romy six months ago. Abruptly, Max ended his stream. "Y/N?"

"Max?" He could tell that you were close to tears, if not already crying. "I'm leaving name but I'm scared to because h-he's been drinking and I don't know if he wakes up i-if he'll hurt me or Romy. I don't care what he does to me, I just don't want him to hurt her." You cried to your brother, nervously peering into your bedroom through the curtains to make sure that the two of them were still asleep - If Romy so much as stirred, then it was game over.

Max was astounded.

Of course, he was going to help you, he was your big brother, how could he not? But you calling 6 months after you last spoke to tell him you were ready to leave, he could have cried in relief.

"Okay, do what you can quietly, I'll come over and make sure that you and Romy can get away safely," Max proposed to you, he knew this was a big, monumental step for you, you needed him to be there for you, now more than ever. "We've got a spare room here, I'll ask Kelly if she by some chance has even an old cot of P's that Romy can sleep in for the night." You sniffled and nodded, even though Max couldn't see the gesture.

"Thank you Maxie, I love you," Tears sprung to your older brother's eyes, he couldn't imagine how much you had been through, the fear of your boyfriend harming your baby must have been a constant forefront on your mind, you must have been exhausted.

"I love you too, I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

You hung up, sighing in relief as you realised that you had taken the hardest step of your life - Yes, you were leaving your abusive boyfriend, but you were also leaving your daughter's father. Moving as quietly as you could, you buckled your sleeping baby into her car seat - Thinking if Kelly didn't have anything; which would be fine; then you could have Romy sleep in her car seat. You packed a small bag for her and yourself - If you needed anything else, you could pick it up when you needed it, as far as you were concerned right now, you and Romy just needed out of here.

the next morning when you woke up, the night before felt like a blur. You swore you were high on adrenaline, and now you were on a huge comedown. You turned on your side, reaching to hold your babies hand, smiling gently as you now realised that you wouldn't have to face seeing (Name) when you went out of this room. You sat up as Romy stirred, reaching out to lift her from the next to me bed that Kelly had put beside the bed in the spare room.

"Shshsh, it's okay, my love, mama's got you," You rocked Romy, pushing her small tuft of her hair out of her face as she fussed before latching to you.

"Mommy, I want to see auntie Y/N's baby!" You smiled, hearing Penelope being so excited to meet Romy, even though she would have to wait a while to be able to play with her. 

"I know, but you need to wait until they wake up," Kelly tried to reason with the young girl, who pouted and crossed her arms and turned to Max, as if he was going to risk going in and waking a sleeping baby.

"Maxie!" Penelope whined, pouting as Max and Kelly chuckled at her behaviour. They both looked up as the door to the spare room opened, you holding Romy at your hip. "Mommy look!" Penelope pointed at your daughter excitedly. "Can I hold her auntie Y/N?! Please, please please?!" You chuckled and smiled down at Penelope.

"Maybe not right now P, she just had a really big breakfast and I wouldn't want her to throw up all over your nice pyjamas," You reasoned with the small girl, smiling as she nodded in understanding. "I promise that you can hold her later."

"Yay!" Satisfied with your answer, Penelope ran back to her toys, occupied with whatever new toy Max or Kelly had bought for her. You smiled as you continued patting Romy's back, hearing her coo and try to wiggle towards her uncle Max.

"Aww, she wants me," Max cooed at her, taking her from your arms and holding her the way you previously did. "She's so cute, almost makes you want another, Kelly?" 

"In your dreams, Max Emillian," You laughed at the two of them, you knew that Max was a great bonus dad for Penelope, he was the opposite of Jos - Which was still a pretty low bar. "How old is she Y/N?" 

"She's almost 7 months, which is crazy for me, she was my tiny little baby and now she's starting to crawl," You told Kelly, holding your arms out to your brother as Romy started fussing in his arms, reaching out to you. "Anyway um...thank you, both, for last night. Lukas text me this morning, he doesn't want us back, left all our stuff in the lobby of the apartment which is fine cause I need to go back for my car anyway." 

"Don't be silly, I'll go get it, you don't need to go back there. And anyway, there's someone you're spending the day with to get back into socialising - He's great with kids too, so you can take Romy with you." Max told you, watching as your brows furrowed in confusion.

"What? Who is it?"

"Do you remember the whiny one from Monaco that had the inchident? Him, he got broken up with and he's been depressed so I thought you two could be friends."

[hoonatic]

emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3

sunghoon was miserable. 

it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.

he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.

at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.

he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.

but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself. 

you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.

but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.

he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.

he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn’t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.

so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.

he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.

but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.

SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.

sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.

he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.

his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.

“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”

but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.

for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.

finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.

the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.

why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.

when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.

he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?

the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?

“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.

as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.

“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.

as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you. 

the officer, however, pulled him back.

“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”

“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”

“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”

all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.

he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.

he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,

“sunghoon?!”

his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.

he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms. 

you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,

“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”

suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.

that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.

you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”

the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.

you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.

“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."

"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."

sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,

“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”

after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.

he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.

“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”

you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.

his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.

but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.

he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.

“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.

you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”

“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.

“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”

“i quit my job.”

“excuse me?”

“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.

you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?

while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.

he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.

you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.

“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”

sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”

“okay. and i love you too. can’t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”

one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.

[firelilyfox]

Deadly Eyes

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort

If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate

Words: 1k

_______________________________

You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage. 

Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever. 

„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you. 

A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“ 

You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“ 

Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you. 

„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind. 

„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“ 

The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness. 

„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“ 

A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest. 

„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke. 

„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off. 

„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes. 

You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“ 

For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms. 

Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“ 

The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you. 

„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away. 

„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little. 

„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“ 

Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“ 

„And you did.“ 

He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart. 

„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between. 

_____________________________________________

Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3

[natalievoncatte]

Every part of Lena Luthor’s soul was screaming at her do not do this.

Yet there Kara Danvers

(Kara Zor-El, last daughter of the house of El, LIAR.)

stood, bedraggled and tear-tracked, hunched in Lena’s doorway like a tiny kitten begging her for food. Lena wondered how she did it, how she made herself so small and unassuming, pathetic even. It was more than a change of clothes and hair and ripping off her glasses. She truly changed, somehow.

Changed to deceive. Changed to mock, changed to take without giving, to make Lena a fool.

(it was a cruel thought, a green thought, a Lex thought)

“I’ve told you already, Kara. I don’t want you here. You’re a liar, you and all your little friends mocked me to my face and kept secrets behind my back.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

That relentless sad puppy look of hers softened even further.

“Why?”

God above how Lena hated her. Hated her for daring to ask. Fuck you, that’s why.

(nothing hurts more than a question that has no answer)

“I hate you, that’s why.”

Kara swallowed hard, wringing her hands. She was dressed in her pajamas and had probably flown here, then landed and asked to come up like a normal person. Didn’t she see that was the problem?

“I don’t believe you.”

Lena threw up her hands. “Oh fuck off with that, Kara. You lost your favorite toy, get over it. I’m done with you. I moved on, you should too.”

“You let me in. I’ve seen the real you. You’re not vindictive. You’re not cruel. You’re a kind-hearted, selfless, compassionate person.”

“And you didn’t,” Lena snapped, moving to close the door. “You deceived me in the most fundamental way. You made me believe you cared for me and believed in me and saw the good in me. No one sees the fucking good in me, no one. No one did but you… and it was all a trick to keep an eye on the Luthor.”

“No, no, I didn’t-“

“You didn’t? Then why did you get James to spy on me? Why’d you question my motives? Why’d you keep lying to me after I proved myself over and over and over again? Because I was never good enough. It was never real.”

Kara rubbed her arms. “Do you really think I brought you into my circle of friends and held you in when you were sad and brought you to Thanksgiving and let you sleep over in my home to keep an eye on you?”

There was a heavy pause.

“That’s fucking insane,” Kara snarled.

Taken aback, Lena flinched, half at the profanity and half at the anger in Kara’s voice.

“I admit it,” her voice broke suddenly, “I can’t deny it. I can’t just dismiss how you feel, I get that, but I didn’t keep my secret from you because you were some kind of a project, Lena. I kept my secret because keeping it let me keep you. It was selfishness, pure and simple. I wanted my one friend who didn’t see me as a superhero. I wanted… I wanted what I always want, things I cannot have.”

There was such agony in her voice that it cut through Lena’s growing fury like a blade sinking into clay, stuck fast, hot in her chest.

“I knew I’d lose you to it eventually. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”

Lena blinked a few times, feeling her resolve start to shake.

(another manipulation. she will do anything, say anything to get back in your good graces)

(to do what, Lex? to what end?)

“Say what you came here to say.”

“I kind of did, but I have one more thing to ask.”

“Then ask it.”

Kara swallowed. “I want to pretend.”

Lena’s brow arched.

“Pretend what?”

“Just pretend it’s like it was. For one night. Just give me one more night and I promise you I will never bother you again. You’ll never see me or Supergirl for the rest of your life.”

“You’re on TV every day.”

“I meant in person.”

“And stop talking about yourself like you’re two different people.”

Kara sniffed.

“Okay,” she muttered.

Lena stood there for what felt like an eternity, screaming at herself not to do this.

(do it, it’ll make it hurt more)

(me or her?)

Lena stepped aside.

Kara entered. She brushed at her eyes, adjusted her glasses, and walked into Lena’s expansive, cold, dark penthouse.

As soon as she did, it was as if the light came back. It felt warm again, seeing her standing there. Having her here, in her cute little pajamas with her braid over one shoulder, those big eyes open and hopeful.

Lena closed the door.

“What do… what do you want me to do? Us to do?”

“We could watch a movie, maybe get Chinese delivered. Have you eaten? I doubt you’ve eaten.”

Lena hadn’t, actually. She hadn’t eaten today and had eaten only scraps yesterday and only because Jess insisted.

Kara touched Lena’s side, a soft brush of fingers over her ribs, and winced.

“You’re starving yourself,” she murmured. “Oh, Lena.”

“Kara-“

She already had her phone out and was ordering. Of course Kara had Lena’s place still saved in DoorDash.

Lena grabbed her hand to stop her.

“My treat.”

Lena fetched her own phone and put in a quick order- of course she had all of Kara’s favorites saved and of course she almost sent them to Kara’s address instead of her own.

“I ordered.”

Lena looked down at herself, wondering why the hell she was doing this. She was still dressed for the lab, so she retreated to her bedroom.

When she opened the closet her eyes immediately went to the maroon Midvale High School sweatshirt hanging at the far end of the rack, where it had been defying her for months. She should have burned the god damn thing but every time she reached for it, her hand pulled back of its own accord.

Not today. She let it fall over her, oversized for her frame and too long, and changed from slacks to leggings and pumps to bare feet, her toes curling from the cold hardwood floors.

Kara had already taken up position on the couch and had put on one of her beloved movies, one they’d already watched together ten times and Kara had probably already seen ten times more. The Princess Bride.

It was a cheap ploy and Lena knew it.

It gouged at her anyway, leaving something raw in her chest. It ripped open every place she’d forced to herself to scab over, broke every stitch. She killed the lights, halfway out of tradition and halfway to make sure Kara didn’t see her fighting back the tears.

Neither of them spoke. They sat on opposite ends of of the couch. When the food arrived, Kara got up to get it from the driver and her absence was keen, the void she left behind ripping at Lena.

When she sat down again right next to her, Lena let her. She shoved a box of take out into Lena’s lap and insisted she eat. They ate in silence.

Kara’s heart wasn’t in it. She are aimlessly rather than shoving her food in her mouth and gobbling it all down in minutes as she usually did. She was pretending, hard.

Lena barely paid any attention to the movie. The food, normally seasoned and spiced to the point where she couldn’t stand it and ate only to please Kara, was bland and tasteless in her mouth.

Kara, haltingly and hesitantly, put her head on Lena’s shoulder, and winced when Lena’s shoulders hitched. Why the fuck was she doing this to herself?

The worst part was that it didn’t hurt. It felt like home. Even now after all she had done and all that Kara had done and said, feeling Kara’s sadness in her soft weight beside her was ripping her apart, the mad anger and rage swept aside by a torrent of grief she couldn’t hold back.

If she was going to pretend she might as well pretend. She put her arm around Kara and leaned into her, nuzzling her nose into Kara’s soft hair, wondering if her alleged best friend ever noticed that Lena’s favorite thing in the entire stupid fucked up world was a Kara Danvers hug and nothing was more precious to her than these times when she almost kissed the crown of Kara’s head.

How she ached.

The movie ended and Netflix began making suggestions.

“Kara,” Lena murmured. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“If we go to sleep the night will be over,” her voice was small, trembling.”

“I know, darling. Just let it be what it is.”

Kara nodded.

Lena’s pulse was pounding as she headed for the bedroom, wondering how Kara had never picked up on how decidedly unplatonic it was to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Neither spoke as they climbed into Lena’s California King, a bed big enough to drown in, sinking beneath a goose down comforter, Kara’s body heat like old coals from a campfire.

For a moment they lay apart, and then slowly came together in their usual way, Kara forming herself into a protective cocoon to shield Lena from… from everything. Morgan Edge, her brother, alien shotgun weddings, random nuts with a gun and a grudge, everything but the greatest threat, her worst enemy.

“I have to go in the morning,” Kara whispered, “so I better say this now. You are not a monster, Lena. I never wanted to ‘keep an eye on you’ other than to protect you and keep you safe. No matter what you do, I will never, ever give up believing in you, but if you want me gone, that’s what I have to do. I love you so much it hurts me. I can’t stand being apart from you but if that’s what you need from me that’s what I’ll give. I would do anything for you. If moving on is what you want…”

Kara took a ragged breath.

“As you wish.”

Lena felt something crack inside her. An image filled her mind: Kara. Kara with graying hair, walking away, walking off into the sunset like the hero she was, and with someone else… with a child between them, a future, a home…

“God damn you, Kara Danvers!” Lena snapped, shocked at the sound of her own voice. “God damn you for making me feel this way! Do you have any idea what you did to me? I can’t just turn it off, I can’t stop feeling.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Kara sighed. “I should have known better. I’m just hurting you more.”

Kara began pulling away.

Lena threw out her arms, locked her hands behind the neck of the most powerful being on the entire planet, and yanked. Hard.

Their lips came together in a crash. The force was all Lena’s, as Kara’s inhuman might yielded to her control. There were no words. Kara hesitated for a shocked moment before she kissed Lena back, looping her arms around Lena’s waist.

This was no stolen glance, no innuendo, no coy hint. When Lena kissed Kara she made as if to devour her, and was mounting her before she realized she was doing it. Kara yielded, she always yielded even when Lena pinned her wrists to the mattress and clamped her legs around Kara’s hips and ground on her like a horny teenager.

She kept expecting Kara to sputter, to push back… to be fucking straight, to be brutally honest about her intentions, but there was nothing straight in the way Kara shifted to grind against her, or the way she twisted her hands free and slid them under the soft Midvale High Sweatshirt and skimmed them over the bare skin of Lena’s back. There was no mistaking the intent of her kisses or the feral sound she made when the shedding of clothing began.

Lena must have shocked her at first, because when Kara recovered, she became a force of nature. Lena was quickly on her back and let out an excited yelp when Kara simply tore her leggings apart and bared her with a feral grin on her face before shedding her top with the same desperate energy.

When they came together, really came together, Lena was nearly overwhelmed. Kara was insatiable, relentless. Hokey cliches like “force of nature” were woefully inadequate.

She never ran out of stamina and she was gentle when needed and forceful when Lena wanted it, every stoke and motion and caress somehow perfect, and she sensed without needing to be told when Lena was ready to give rather than receive and yielded without a word.

They barely even had to talk, and when Lena was finally exhausted, Kara was there with kind touches and soft words and cared for her like the most precious thing in the world.

Lena fell asleep, deeply and soundly, and when she woke up with the sun on her skin and an empty bed she wondered if it was all an elaborate dream until she heard Kara humming halfway across the penthouse, grabbed the sweatshirt, and padded barefoot from the bedroom.

Kara was at the stove cooking breakfast and holding a spatula like a microphone, singing… a fucking Britney Spears song.

“I thought you were going to leave in the morning,” Lena sighed.

Kara froze.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I’d have to come get you.”

Kara turned to her with a billion watt smile.

“I was lying about leaving you alone.”

Lena walked over, arms around her waist, hugging herself. She cupped Lena’s chin with a hooked finger and the casual intimacy of it made Lena’s heart swell.

“I love you so much. I can’t breathe without you,” Kara whispered.

Lena took Kara’s wrist and guided her hand to cup her cheek, nuzzling against the soft skin of Kara’s palm.

“Stay?”

Kara nodded.

[renren-006]

Familiar Eyes | Lucius Verus x fem reader

plot: eyes will look familiar when they belong to your best friend.

a/n: ahhh im obsesed!! I can't stop watching edits of Paul Mescal!!! I just had to write something for him. I also have another story idea I'm playing with for him as well! Let me know if you have any ideas for more Lucius stories!!

Word count: 2136

You sat in the emperor's box, watching the gladiators in the pits with curious eyes. Geta and Callicalla both sat in front of you, turning to see your expression every once in a while. They were both playing the game of waiting for you to grow yourself at them. You were playing the game of waiting till their deaths to celebrate. You wanted nothing to do with either emperor. You only wanted to sit and watch till it was time for you to take your leave. Lucille cast you a look of subtle remorse for the role you were thrown into, and you returned it with a small smile. You had known the woman for so many years, when you were younger you were her son's favorite friend. Lucius’s disappearance cast a hole in your heart and soul that could never be filled by anyone; your love for him lasted all these years and forever will. 

Your eyes again focused on the arena, already cleared of bodies and resetting for the next fight. The announcer's loud voice boomed through the Coliseum, causing an uproar from the spectators. Awaiting the next game was always torture, anticipating who or what would fight. 

When those doors opened and out came the group of gladiators, but one, in particular, fought your eye. A man with brown hair and the bluest eyes caught your attention. When he made eye contact, a sense of familiarity warmed your heart. He looked away almost as fast, leaning down to grab at the sandy gravel. You remember from your youth a particular gladiator used to do the same.

 It couldn’t be him, could it? 

The question swarmed your mind as you watched the man before you fight. It was mesmerizing watching him move around the arena; it was an art. How he moved around the arena reminded you of the boy you used to watch play “gladiator” with his guards. He would always have you watch and clap when he had won, always smiling brightly when you sang him praise. As you watched him, the realization shone through your eyes; Lucius was the gladiator. You wanted to scream, to run into that pit and throw your arms over that boy you loved and thought lost. You looked to Lucilla whose face was unreadable and calculating, she too was watching Lucius. When the game was over, and he and a few of his men won, you knew you had to wait and be careful before you ran to see him. 

It wasn't until late in the evening when you rode our horse over with one of your guards and snuck inside the gladiator's cells and training grounds. You watched some of the men in the late hours training, and a few stopped and stared as you passed through the halls through the cell you were told Lucius was in. As the door opened, you saw the man sitting facing away from you. 

“To go from the boy who played gladiator with his guards to being one in the Collosiem is quite a jump,” you said, causing Lucius to slowly turn, “or have I mistaken you for my best friend?”

“You have the wrong person,” he said; the hurt look in his eyes told you enough. The man in front of you was not him, not anymore. Lucius was a diffrent person. 

“Ah. Seems I am wrong,” you said, stepping back and slowly turning to be able to tell the guards to let you out. A hand came up and took your wrist lightly. You jumped slightly. 

“Your best friend…the one you thought I was…why did you think I was him?” he asked. 

“When I looked in your eyes, you made me feel like I was looking at him. My heart felt whole again.” you told him, “Sorry to have bothered you, gladiator.” His hold on you loosened, and your hand slipped out when you left his cell. You didn't turn to see if he was still watching, but the feeling you got told you he was.

The next time you saw Lucius was the next round of gladiator fights he was to partake in. Another group battle was to commence. Watching Lucius, you could see there was a fire in him today. He glanced at at the box to see you, you tried your best to hide your gaze but it failed. Lucius gritted his teeth and looked back to fight. 

“Seems that Gladiator has an attitude today,” spoke Geta, “I hope it foils his game”

“I hope he proves you wrong,” you said. Geta's eyes met yours, and fury was in them. His face folded into anger. 

“How dare you speak to me that way. We have done you favors, making you a woman of high status,” Geta said, “Would you like that to be changed?” “It seems I spoke without thinking; truly, I am at your mercy,” you spoke, bowing your head toward the emperor. You knew your mouth would get you in trouble one day. These emperors tested you constantly, and the game you played was tiresome. Geta and Callicalla expected things from you, but you never gave in. Their feelings of annoyance were always made clear to you about this affair. 

“Sit,” he spoke. “We shall not rid you of your status today,” Calicalla said from his chair. The man was relaxed in his chair with that pet monkey he loved. Geta sat down, letting the words of his brother flow over him. You bowed your head again before looking back towards the fight. Lucius caught your eye. He had seen the spectacle. A small smirk appeared on his face, one matching that same boy from the courtyard. You smiled slightly, this boy has a history untold to you making him difficult to understand. You were desperate to understand. 

You revisited him a few nights after his battle. He was waiting for you this time. Lucius sat on his bed, watching the door with intensity. When you entered, it was clear he wanted you there. 

“I was waiting for you to come,” he told you. 

“I can see that. I tried to come sooner, but…had to play the role I am stuck in,” you told him. He scooted over in his bed. You took that as an invitation to sit next to him. Your blue dress flowed around you as you did. 

“I see,” he said. You both sat in silence. Lucius nervously played with his hands, something he never grew out of. 

“I have to know; you are Lucius, right?” You asked him, eyeing him hopefully. Lucius nodded. 

“I am”

“Why lie to me?”

“I am not the same boy you knew, y/n,” He told you. You laughed a bit and smiled at him.

“You think I would care if you were? You were gone for almost 20 years, Lucius. I should not expect you to be the same. I know I am not”

“You are a woman of status now,” he said. You nodded your head.

“Underneath, I am still the same,” you told him. “I hate this role I was shoved into”

“What happened when I left?” he asked you. 

“Rome was in disarray for so long, they still are. No one truly likes the emperors, and they are too blind to see the hate people have for them.” You told him, “I was still working in the palace when they came into power. For some reason, they wanted me, so they gave me a higher status, a ploy for me to…marry one of them,” you spoke slowly, looking up a few times. Lucious had his hands in his lap, fiddling. It was enough for Lucious to understand that there was a game at play with the gladiators and in Rome.

“Have you?”

“No” you spoke fast, meeting Lucius eyes. 

“The emperors are not happy about that.” The open-endedness of his statement answered itself. Lucius had always been a smart boy. Even when his uncle played emperor in his palace, he could see through it all. Rome had always been home to a game, not the gladiatorial games, which was worse. 

Lucius started calling on you throughout the week. You would enter the gladiator's home and walk with him, watch him train, or even sit with him and talk. You knew these meetings would get to the emperors sooner or later, and with what was conspiring behind closed doors, you knew it was sooner. Lucius was informed by his mother of the plan she and Acacius were planning. He didn't particularly like the man, but seeing how happy her mother was with him, he let his hatred die. He never would tell you that a part of him was also less hateful because he had found you again. 

It became apparent the word of your meetings had spread to the emperor's ears. The tretory of your betrayal to the emperor's hearts while the tretory of two others came to light the same night. You stood in their halls in your evening gown, feeling as though you wore nothing. Acacius and Lucilla stood in the halls, too. 

“You have betrayed your emperors,” Geta yelled, “You have betrayed our hearts,” He yelled at you as he grabbed your hair. A shrill cry left your mouth. “Do you love this gladiator? Hm? Should I make a show of his death for you”

“No! Please!” you spoke. Geta sparked a plan brewing.

“When I make a show of your treasuries, I shall put this…whore…on display as well. Show these gladiators never to mess with what is mine” 

You stood on the balcony with the emperors, your hands bound, and a giant bruise was forming on your cheek. They had not done too much, but the show of your night clothes, a bruise, and unkept hair was enough for the people of Rome to know something had happened. Next to you stood Lucilla, a similar unkept state about her. 

“Today! We have some traitors in our mist!” In the pits was Acacius. You watched as he fought and as Lucius entered the pits. He saw his mother, and he saw you. When you made eye contact, Geta grabbed your face.

 “In horror of the betrayal of Acacius and the lover to my betrothed. Fight to the death.” Lucius was furious and wanted revenge on Acacius for his actions in Numdia. You watched as they fought; he was angry.

“Do you see now why you should have kept your promise” Calliclla spoke. You looked at him with hatred in your eyes.

“I will never be with you or your brother,” You told him. The slap rang in your ears and turned the heads of others. Lucius and Acacius both stopped and looked at the emperor's box. Lucius stepped twords the box.

“No,” you said to him; Callicalla didn't like this. He took your face in his hands and made you look at him. You wished your life at come to this moment. 

“Let her go” Lucius yelled twords the box. 

“Back to your game, gladiator. Kill the general, and all will end for today,” Geta told him. When Lucius refused to end the general's life, his was taken anyway. You watched as the crowd took uproar at the action. A small smirk played on your lips.

“You think my hate for you is small,” you told Callicalla. “Try Romes hate.” You were let go when the mob started their terror in the stands. The Romans disrupted so much that you managed to be forgotten about and were released. You ran down to the gladiators, many letting you pass so you could get to Lucius. He turned in the hallway as he heard your footsteps. When you saw him face you, he started walking towards you, picking you up in his arms and holding you tight. 

“I will never let you go again” He spoke softly to you.

When all was done in Rome, you could finally rest. Sleep came easy to you next to Lucius in his mother's home. A new room and bed to accommodate the older prince. You were brought to his home and welcomed warmly by the others. You were no longer the mistress of the emperors but the wife of the Prince of Rome, your true love. You lay next to him, watching the stars through the window. 

“Awake are we?” Lucius asked. 

“How am I to sleep when you are here, home, next to me,” you spoke to him, smiling. Lucus met the smile with a kiss.

“Sleep my love,” he told you, “I will be here when you wake”

[bwabys-scenarios]

Sweet Sunday NSFW

Obanai x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: this is an AO3 request :3 gonna try to prioritize requests sent on AO3 since I plan on being more active there. This is short but sweet :) also I don’t know Obanai too well(it’s been forever since I read the manga) so sorry if he’s a little out of character… or if this just sucks. LMAO

warnings: pussy eating, very soft and sweet sex, Obanai worships your body, breeding, mostly nsfw, fluffy

You never did quite like waking up early in the morning, and thankfully your boyfriend didn’t either. Even when he was supposed to be off fighting demons, Obanai hated getting up before 10 am.

So that’s why on his day off, the two of you stayed curled up together the entire morning, sharing kisses and soft words of love. It had taken him so long to open up to you, and now that he had, it was almost like he was making up for lost time.

“You’re just radiant…” he purred, brushing back your hair from your sleepy face. “My love, my angel… my everything.”

It was enough to get your cheeks feeling hot to the touch, your heart beating out of your chest. “And you’re so handsome it makes me nervous…”

Although Obanai still struggled to accept compliments, he knew you would never lie to him. His own pale cheeks flushed pink as he looked away. The bandages that usually covered his mouth lay on the nightstand by your shared bed.

You traced the scars on the corners of his mouth, your eyes full of love and adoration. He could have never thought that anyone would look at his mmm in such a way, especially without his bandages to cover up his biggest insecurity.

“You’re too kind, my love. Sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream, that I’ll wake up back in my childhood home.”

You paused, your heart twisting in pain. Obanai often suffered from nightmares, waking up screaming and clutching onto you for dear life. It left him trembling, tears pouring down his cheeks as he struggled to soothe himself.

But how he didn’t have to face it alone, he had you.

“You’re safe now, Obanai. You never have to hide away when you’re with me…”

His eyes softened, and he couldn’t help but pull you close. You smelled so sweet, like sunshine and vanilla, with hints of something sweet he couldn’t quite place. Whenever he inhaled your scent, he knew that he was right where he needed to be.

Home.

It didn’t help that your scent also stimulated other feelings… other desires… before he knew it his hands hand wondered along your hips and to your thighs, lightly pushing them open. “O-Obanai…”

You whined softly as his nimble fingers danced across your closed cunt, stopping right above your clit. He pressed down, causing you to squirm lightly as he began rubbing gentle circles into it. “Shh, princess. Let me make you feel good.”

If Obanai was anything, he was devoted to you body and soul. Every little sound and movement you made was enough to get his pants tight and his body ready to please you.

He slid off your soaked panties, giving your pussy a soft kiss. “Gorgeous, taste so sweet, princess…”

Eating you out was one of his favorite activities, and he enjoyed pinching your pretty nipples as he did. Obanai loved to overstimulate you until you were pushing his head away, begging for his cock instead.

But this morning, he decided to let you off with only three orgasms with his tongue. “Okay, okay…”

He lined up his hips with yours, peppering your neck in kisses. “Do you want me?”

“Y-yes please!”

No hesitation, just pure desire for him. It felt good to be wanted, to be so desperately desired by you.

And so Obanai complied, snapping his hips forward to plunge his cock into you, groaning at the feeling if your tight cunt. Despite him not being huge, you always needed a moment to adjust, and he was more than fine with your pretty pussy cockwarming him as you got used to his cock.

“There you go…” he said, moving his hips at a slow and steady pace as your arousal pooled on the bedsheets below. “That’s my girl… that’s my love.”

His fingertips dig into your plump hips as he fucked info you, his warm breath tickling your neck. Obanai wasn’t really the type to moan, but he started getting talkative when he was close.

“S-so good, my love. So fucking good for me…”

The two of you came together, and he didn’t bother to pull out. He planned on marrying you after all, and getting you pregnant was the goal. “G-gonna… gonna knock you up, okay? My love, my beautiful wife, so pretty for me…”

The two of you laid together, your naked bodies glistening with a sheen of sweat of you snuggled. Soon, you’d have to leave the comfort of your bed to bathe and eat something to replenish your strength…

But for now, you’d need to comfort your lover. He always got a bit shy after sex, embarrassed of the things he said while pussy drunk. You didn’t mind though… you wanted to be his wife after all.

[thewitchblue]

"I'm curious about something."

Jason asked you one snowy November. You turned away from your computer to face him with a fond smile on your face. You were working on a case for him by researching the deceased and locating their soul to speak to the victim. He approached you and leaned against the desk. You asked,

"What's up, buttercup? What's on your pretty mind?"

You noticed his hand trying to hold yours, but you turn ghostly to prevent him from touching you. You're a grim reaper, one of several scattered throughout different continents, and very dead. Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he asks as casually as possible,

"Is it true about the embrace of death?"

Well, that's a new thought you didn't expect to hear him ask. You blinked in confusion before answering vaguely,

"I'm a Reaper, pretty boy. Consider me one of the Valkyries from Norse mythology; I'm here to guide souls to their specific place. I don't embrace or kiss the souls. Their soul is often already floating around when I get there. That's why some people experience after-death moments with loved ones. Grandma's last kiss, a child holding their mother's hand, parents embracing their newly orphaned children, little things like that."

You weren't sure how to explain your job in a way that makes sense for the living, but you tried. Jason seemed unsatisfied by your answer, so you asked kindly,

"What did you really want to know, my love?"

He frowned at your ghostly hand. Is it really too much to want to touch his partner? He paused and said after a beat of silence,

"I... want to hold your hand and kiss you, but you always pull away. I want to know why."

You gave him a sad look and softly admit,

"I've never touched a living soul since my death. I'm worried what will happen to you if I did touch you."

He grumbled and offered his father as a sacrificial lamb to find out what happens, but you laughed and softly said,

"If you can stomach Bruce being the first man to ever touch me post-mortem, I'll touch him."

You knew that wouldn't be the case. He huffed and pouted, but softly admitted,

"I want to be the first man you ever touch since your death."

You look at him seriously for a moment. You know Jason would drop the topic if you told him no, but part of you wanted to say yes. You weren't sure if you wanted to let this go. You want to hold his hand on a cold winter day and kiss him thousands of times to make up for lost time.

With great hesitation, you touched Jason's arm. He was warm against your timid hand and so muscular. You slowly run your hands along his arms while watching him carefully. You waited to see if he was feeling anything negative. You weren't sure if you felt his life force leaving him or his pulse racing under your hand as you held his wrist in your fingers.

Jason shivered under your light touch. You were freezing cold, but he didn't feel any different than he felt before. You looked in awe that you could touch a living soul without consequences, and he was so smug.

He had a feeling it would be okay to touch you. He thought it was adorable that you wanted to protect him from your ghostly touch, nonetheless. He was only 87% sure he would have been fine. He didn't know if you could turn your power on-and-off like he hoped and now knew was possible.

You hadn't known people could be this warm. You've been dead for so long, you had forgotten. Souls are cold, so you're never warm.

You grin at him and immediate pull him into a kiss. You could kiss him! His soul isn't being pulled out of him! You were ecstatic. Once you started, you found you couldn't stop.

You gave him thousands of kisses as he chuckled. He's never seen you so happy. You held both his hands in your scarred ones.

Your soul shines in happiness, which makes him grin. He loves you and loves the confirmation you loved him, too. Your soul tells him everything you're feeling, and he's never seen you this happy. It's reassuring to see your love for him pulsing throughout your ghostly spirit. It's like you couldn't keep it in.

Your eyes lit up at the new revolution. You were bursting with love and adoration. You tell him as you held his face in your hands,

"These hands are forever yours. You're going to be stuck with me now onwards."

He laughed at the serious tone and kissed your hands with a grin on his face. The lights in your apartment flicker in response to your happiness, but you can't help it. Your powers charge and pulse when you get emotional.

You murmur as you caress his face in your hands,

"I love you."

You run your fingers through his hair while he buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around you.

"I know, pipsqueak."

He nips your neck playfully, partially surprised you let him. You kiss his forehead and draw him closer with your arms,

"Good. You deserve to know."

[hai7ani]

我的心肝宝贝 / i have found you / haitani rindou

sequel

losing your memories after a terrible car crash that's left you confused, quiet, and a little clumsy afterwards. all confidence had left your soul just like the past 2 years of your life, and honestly, you didn't think you'd be able to get through not knowing anything. things had changed a lot from when your memories had last stopped at.

you still manage to pick yourself up, however, even though it'd took you quite some time to gain back the confidence to go out in public with the blank and empty feeling in your head, your heart. you still don't remember much from the memories you've lost, and you find yourself constantly searching for something that you don't know.

and now you're in Don Quijote a little after 9 to run some errands for your mother who insists you go alone this time. before you left she had claimed that this may be helpful for you. she'd pointed out that this used to be your favourite place to visit at night when you had nothing to do. at first you didn't understand what she meant by it 一 you couldn't figure out why a place like Don Quijote would be somewhere you like spending time in, considering the loud, overwhelming music constantly playing through the speakers and the crowds of people who were somehow always everywhere in all corners of the store.

until you're queuing up for checkout and you hear a deep voice call for your nickname that you haven't heard in a while. you don't recognise the voice, though, and you think to yourself that this might be someone you had known just before you had lost your memories.

so you turn around, already getting ready to say the words you find yourself repeating quite a lot recently.

"i don't remember you."

the man before you is tall. he towers over you, he's a little tanned, and he's also the same guy you'd made eye contact with a while ago when you were browsing for ramen. you remember he had been staring 一 he seemed very mysterious, but you didn't think of him as creepy nor did he give off any human-trafficker vibes, and he never once broke eye contact too when you were passing him at the aisle.

"hi," you start with a little smile, and he thinks your eyes are bright with so much sun despite it being nighttime and you don't seem to be bringing anything up. he looks at you with an expression you think strangers don't normally give to another stranger, so you figure he must be someone you had known closely before.

"i, um," you blink once, twice 一 suddenly feeling a little out of breath and warm 一 and your chain of thought gets interrupted when he takes a step closer to your body. you can smell the hints of tobacco off his clothing and you resist the urge to pick away a loose thread from the collar of his black coat. the sudden temptation to do that was shocking to you, as you'd never felt anything like this before to anybody you've met recently.

then he lowers down a little to grab the handle of your basket and swiftly places it on the conveyor belt when you don't notice the cashier calling out for you (your back had been turned).

"thank you." you say as you start pulling out your wallet, getting ready to pay.

you turn to look up at the man again while waiting. you had bought quite an amount of items today, so this would give you time to converse with him.

"i'm sorry, have we known each other before?" you begin. you notice from his body movement that he is a little stunned when you'd asked him that, because he had taken a step back and frowned. he seems a bit confused as he curls his fingers inwards and forms his big hands into fists. the Don Quijote song plays softly in the background as you stare at each other like that 一 as he swallows the pit in his mouth, as you dig for just anything at all, right at the core of your brain.

nothing.

you decide to explain further when he doesn't budge. "i'd just lost my memories recently, from a car accident. i don't remember anything from the past 2 years..." you bite your lip, trailing off.

"so if we had known each other during those times, i'm really sorry, but i don't recognise you at all." your shoulders slump as you say it to him.

during those times.

you feel a little something, probably in your heart, rip apart inside of you when you see the light in his eyes swiftly disappear. you think the purple of his orbs had just turned into a darker shade. from violet to eggplant, his frown disappears, and he opens his mouth to speak-

"cash or card?"

you hurriedly look away from him and he sighs. out of relief, out of disappointment, or out of sadness?

"oh, cash-"

out of nothing but love.

"...we're paying together." he slams his own basket on the conveyor and eyes the cashier in a way that would've made you squirm out of fear because he looks so intimidating. "make it quick." he's stern when he says it, and the poor cashier looks so afraid that she does make absolute quick work of scanning his items together and checking you both out. but surprisingly to you, you don't sense any malice in his voice. you know he didn't mean anything bad by it -- he'd just really wanted it to be quick.

he's a nice guy, just a bit rough. he doesn't know how exactly to be polite. he has good intentions. he speaks up a lot, but he doesn't voice out very often.

you know. you want to tell her that. but he covers your sight by stepping in front of you and hands the lady his card.

(you end up sliding the cashier a piece of sticker you'd randomly found in your purse while mouthing a quick "sorry!" to her on your way out of the store.)

ane now you're standing outside the store, under a dim lamp post and you're searching for something inside your bag of groceries.

and he watches as you fish out a bag of chips, rip an opening easily, and hand it to him with a big smile. "here! my treat for paying for my groceries."

oddly to you this entire interaction feels so normal. usually a stranger would've never let another stranger pay for their things this easily, but with this man, it feels fine. it seemed okay to let him do that. you feel like this has happened before.

"why this snack?" is what he asks when he grabs a chip from the bag and shoves it in his mouth. he chews and chews and grabs another and chews, and your smile grows even wider when he finally takes the entire packet away and starts eating it like it belongs to him.

"dunno. i thought you'd enjoy it." you shrug, "and you do seem to actually enjoy it. i'm glad. i didn't buy it for any reason exactly, just felt right for me to grab it off the shelf."

he cracks a smile at that.

"you really don't remember me?"

"no, gosh, i'm sorry. what's your name?"

he eyes the small purple keychain of a specific initial hanging off your handbag. you hadn't switched it out even after so long, he realises.

...perhaps you did feel the same for him after all.

regret.

longing.

maybe still some love.

"Rindou. i am Rindou."

you give him a smile. he feels young all over again because you're looking at him the same way you always did.

"hello Rindou, i am y/n." you giggle as you say it, knowing he already knows, but you still want to say it anyway.

"were we friends? where did we meet?"

he sucks the flavouring off his thumb. it starts snowing a little. Don Quijote is no longer lit up and noisy as they start closing up the store.

"here." he looks down to the packaging in his hands and folds it nicely before throwing it in the trash. you tilt your head to the side, obviously extremely confused and a little nervous.

"we met here, two winters ago. i was lost as i was new to tokyo, and you bought me this snack as a cheer up before walking with me to my hotel."

"...and?" you grin, patiently awaiting for the rest of his response. it felt good to know you were nice to him back then 一 that this place was also coincidentally where you'd first met him with him eating the same snack that you bought for him.

a light layer of snow starts covering your head and shoulders, but he is warm when he moves closer to you and pats them away gently.

he then slides his hand down to rest it on the back of your head.

and he kisses your forehead.

you think you want to melt away like the snow on the ground. you think the empty feeling inside of you has been filled and you don't ever want him to leave again.

you think you have found what you have been searching for so feverishly after losing your memories.

"i loved you before."

you don't move in his arms when he snakes them around your figure 一 as he pushes you anymore closer to himself, into his chest.

you hear his heart beat for you before your ears.

"i still do."

in chinese we have this term of endearment: 心肝宝贝 (xin gan bao bei) which is a very cheesy endearment for a loved one, commonly used by parents for their child, but it can be used between lovers as well.

心 xin (heart) | 肝 gan (liver) | 宝贝 bao bei (baby/sweetie for endearment, commonly used between lovers) = basically saying that you are just as important as my heart and liver

i was picturing rin saying this to her in his heart when he was hugging and pushing her to his chest :(((

[hislittlesparklejumpropequeen]

I never blamed you for loving me the way you did.

Lestat De Lioncourt x reader

Summary; Lestat De Lioncourt had a wife once. And a beautiful life. Until he lost everything. Warnings; fail marriage, blood and injuries, vampire sex, character deaths, suicide, self-hatred, penis in vagina sex, creampie, sex as a coping mechanism, child loss, grief and mourning, ANGST, hurt no comfort, BISEXUAL Lestat de Lioncourt

Word count: 11,181

(Pre-canon)

Lestat had spent decades on this planet. He had known thousands of people, been to hundreds of cities, lain with both women and men. He had fallen in love, once upon a time. And he had known loneliness. He knew it even before he was turned into this vile creature. When he had to spend his days in his cold bed as a little human child. As his father and brothers torture toy, his mother’s suffocating burden, when had to spend days in Satan’s dungeon with the dead and the undead, waiting for his final day see his god for the first and last time. The nights he prayed to God to spare his life and how his prayers turned to pleadings for his death. He begged it to be quick and painless. He wanted his mother’s comfort that he never knew. He wanted to go back to church and attend the sunday service with the people of his small town. He wanted to hold cross one more time and feel the love of Christ in his bones.

He thought about God and Jesus and his mother when Magnus nearly ripped his neck open with his sharp fangs one night. He drank so much that Lestat thought he saw a bright light in the corner of his eye. He felt his soul slip away from his body and the lightness wash over him. It was a comfort that he never felt in his entire life before. Not when he used to lay beside that tree on the hill and exchange glances with the pretty looking shepherd boy as the warm breeze danced with his own blonde curls. Not when he fell asleep with that beautiful daughter of the baker by the river, naked, arms wrapped around one another, his head on her chest, listening to her heart beats.

He had tasted blood for the first time when Magnus pressed his bleeding wrist to his lips. Lestat started to drink. He had no idea why he was drinking. It was an instinctual command coming from his body, from his very existence. He felt life come back to him. But not his soul, it was gone. He felt his flesh harden like rocks and the colour drain away from his rosey cheeks of humanity. He felt Magnus’s blood flow trough his veins, fast and burning. He felt the warmth in his chest. His fingertips hurt with the sharp nails that grew in seconds. His eyes were sore and when he opened them again, the bright colours made him dizzy. He could hear everything and everyone. He could feel everything at once. He wanted to die. He wanted to beg Magnus to stop playing with him and let him die peacefully. And he was alone one more time when Magnus died in the flames, in front of his eyes. He smelled his burning rotten flesh. Dying like him disgusted Lestat.

Over time his yearning for God’s love turned into grudge. He wondered why God let him turn into this blood thirsty monster. Yes, that was what he was. A monster trough and trough. And no one would dare to love a monster like him. Even tho the monster would love anyone in the purest way possible if he was given chance.

And he did. Lestat loved Nicolas. As much as he could at least. Nicki was a troubled man since the first moment Lestat laid his eyes on him. He thought that being with him and having countless adventures could change him and plant seeds of happiness into soul. But it didn’t. He hesitated turning him into a vampire when Nicki was begging him to do so. He could sense the consequences of doing it. But spending centuries with the man he loved convinced Lestat. Nicki sinked into his dark thoughts more. His violin played with sadness and sorrow more than ever. Lestat felt his darkness in himself. He could not hear but see Nicki’s feelings in is empty looking eyes. He felt the guilt filling his heart as his first love was turning into someone he didn’t know. Armand’s presence wasn’t helping at all.

Lestat never thought about being loyal to his spouses when the world was full of fruits in different shapes and colours and tastes. There was so much to explore in his infinite life time. Armand was a capturing thing. With his eyes looking into his soul and reading him like an open book. Armand was offering so many things to Lestat that no one ever could. He yearned for the care and affection from Armand. He wanted to drink from him, lay with him and taught by him how to survive, live with the nature of a vampire. But being with Armand in front of the eyes of Nicki pushed the poor boy into madness more and more every passing day. Lestat was hungry but not for the destruction of the ones he loved.

He left Paris with his mother. He had left Nicki and Armand and the theatre. Only to receive the news of Nicki’s death. He fell onto his knees when they sent his violin to him. He touched the places where Nicki’s fingertips traced over. And he played it for the last time to feel his lover again. It didn’t matter if he was feeling Nicki’s love, rage or sadness. He only wanted a piece of him. His lips trembled when he played his favourite melody. The melody Nicki would play for Lestat after the moments they spent in each others arms, tasted one another and explore the corners of pleasure. He remembered that fearless little boy that he met with back in the day, when they were both humans. He remembered the shy glances of Nicki when he was looking at Lestat’s eyes, lips and every detail on his face. He remembered the moments they danced together and his mother would sing for them. He remembered their last happy moments. Tears of blood flowed down his cheeks and stained his white shirt.

He was alone again when his mother left him. He felt unlovable. Even his own mother couldn’t stand his presence. How could anyone in this world would love a man like him? By that time he had forgotten how it felt like being close to god and feel his love. He knew that God left him when he was turned into a seed of devil. He wanted to scream and shout and tell God that he never had a chance to choose. If he could he would choose God over everyone and everything without a second thought. Therefore Lestat knew believing in something higher and more powerful than you was a great comfort and happiness a man could ever have.

He traveled for years after his mother left him. He wondered around the countries, saw humans kill one another, cheat on one another, trick one another and destroy one another. He saw that it was not only him that was hungry for something he couldn’t name. Then his bright greyish blue eyes found the figure of a little human being in the crowd, dancing with a beautiful smile on her face. His eyes watched you for the whole dance. He heard your fast breaths, how they go trough your delicate nose and reach to your lungs that were still fresh and youthful compared to his rotten body. He saw the drops of sweat sliding trough your temple, your hair damp and the braid crown that was about to fall off. He heard your laugh, full of life and joy. He saw your skirts fly off as you tap your feet on the floor with your human strength. Your dance made him smile. His smile widened as you kept dancing and laughing. He felt like he never saw something or someone more alive. He felt a warmth in his chest. So different from the one felt when he first drank Magnus’s blood. It was type of warmth he felt when he was still human, when he had fears of a human and desires of a human.

He took you into his arms as you were still dancing. The dance floor was crowded as you felt his hands on you. You turned around and saw the most beautiful pair of eyes that you ever saw in your entire life. It felt natural to be in his arms, to be close to him and smiling at him. Lestat looked into your eyes as both of you danced trough the song. You didn’t want this song to ever finish. His body was pressed against yours and it felt like you were the only ones in the dance floor, in the world. He felt your gentle hands on his arms, going to his shoulders. It felt tingly and he realised how much he missed this human feeling. He laughed when you accidentally stepped on his feet and his laugh sounded more beautiful than thousand melodies that you ever heard. Which musician could ever write a song that sounded like his joy? Who could ever be the inspiration and make any musician to write it?

You watched his blonde long curls shine under the colourful lights. The thought of running your fingers trough his curls sent shivers down your spine. Lestat shook slightly when he heard your thoughts. You didn’t think about laying with him right away or take advantage of things that he might offer you. You only wanted to caress his hair. Something his mother never did. He closed his eyes and leaned down to your neck. The flavour of your blood filled his nostrils in seconds. He felt dizzy and wrapped his arms tighter around you. You felt his lips ghost over your skin and you had to hold onto him.

“Wait for me, ma cherie.” He whispered and you opened your eyes. Your arms were on the air, hugging no one. You felt coldness wash over your burning cheeks.

“Wait for me.” You heard his voice again. You turned around but he was no where to be seen. Your hands held your long skirts and put the strands of hair behind your ear. People around you kept dancing as you walked out of the dance floor with shaky legs.

Lestat watched you for the rest of the night from far afar. You didn’t dance again or laugh. You sat down, sipped on your drink, answered question when they were referring to you and looked for him with curious eyes. He felt sense of pride in his heart. Not because a mortal girl was mesmerised by him but because it was you that was mesmerised by him. You were not his prey of the night. He could fill that place with someone anytime, anyone could be his meal tonight. No, you were meant to be alive, and you were meant to be by his side.

For eight long weeks he watched your every step. He watched you wake up every morning, have breakfast with your family, attend your daily lessons, sew with your lady friends, read your books by your window and think about him. He could hear your sweet dreams about him, even when he was in his house. You were waking up everyday, hoping to see him somehow. You thought about telling your mother many times. Maybe she would’ve known about that otherworldly lord that attended the party in the gambling club. He watched you blush like a cherry in summer when one of your mother’s friends pointed out that you were zoning out and getting lost in your thoughts pretty often, just like a young lady in love would do. Your mother laughed it off as you kept your eyes on the floor and your thoughts on Lestat.

He watched you go home that day. Slip away from the heavy layers of your dress, undo your beautifully braided hair and lay on your back on the bed. Your room was lightened by the few candles on your desk and nighstand. He could hear your heart beating fast as you pictured his eyes again and again. Oh how beautiful he was. As if carved by God himself carefully within the image of an angel. You could feel that weird, tingly sensation in your stomach when you remembered his lips on your skin. Lestat smiled softly as you drifted into sleep thinking about him. And he was in your room. He walked to your desk first and looked over the poetry books you were reading, and the some poems you tried to write. A little poet i have hear, Lestat thought.

He walked to your bed. His hands traced over your neck to your chest and lastly to your stomach. His touch was so soft and light, he could feel you hardly. But he could feel your warmth so clearly. He could feel it even with just being in your room. He tried to remember the last time he felt the warmth of humanity in him. Nearly two centuries. He sat on your bed and looked at your sleeping figure. You looked so peaceful. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to sleep for night without all those memories haunting him? He listened to your heart beats for a moment and the way your eyes were moving slightly during your sleep. He leaned over you, to your neck. He inhaled deeply as his lips were close to your skin. For a moment he feared that his cold lips would wake you up but you didn’t open your yes. Your blood made his mouth watery. He was so hungry. For blood yes, but he was hungry for something more. Something that could make him feel alive after two centuries of being dead. Something that would make his heart beat faster with excitement again.

He wondered if God was looking down at two of you in that moment. If he was, would he let Lestat to defile one more of his human children? If yes, why? Wasn’t it both torture for Lestat and them? He had the blood of thousands on his hands. And there was no soap or water in this world that could wash it away from him. He was carrying all his victims within himself. They were in his veins, staining his fangs.

He laid his body on top of yours slowly, gently. His broad shoulders blocked your eyes and his legs trapped you between them. Your eyes opened wide with the pressure on your stomach. First you could only see darkness, then you felt a cold hand against your cheek.

“Don’t be afraid, mon cœur.” He whispered. Your fast breathing calmed in seconds. He looked down at your face and your gaze met with his own. You looked divine under the moonlight, under him. The way your eyes were still half open, in the grasp of sleep. And the way your cheeks were flushed with shyness and excitement. But not fear. His eyes found your lips lastly. Your lips that were slightly open, sucking in little breaths, looking all soft and warm. Lestat felt your hardened tetes peaking trough your nightgown, pressed against his tough chest.

You saw his bright blue eyes go darker with lust and his teeth grow into sharp fangs that only a wild animal would have. You felt his sharp nails digging into your skin and make you bleed. You both hissed as his fingertips got covered with your blood. He snarled just like an animal as the smell of fresh blood surrounded his very being. Your body trembled and you held onto his arms tightly

“Are you going to kill me?” You whispered. You did not feel horror, or rage or sorrow. You were only exited as he held you in his arms. Lestat smiled softly at your question. He pressed his nose against your cheek and inhaled your scent one more time. Your humanly, sweet smell made him dizzy. He felt an unfamiliar sensation down below his stomach.

“No, I will give you life. Better than the one you have.” He said and bite down your neck. First thing you felt was a sharp pain that made your neck go numb. You could not move, rather dare to move. It felt like if you moved, the pain would get worse. Lestat let his body go and laid on top of you fully, giving his whole weight. You opened your legs and welcomed his slender figure. And for the first time in decades, Lestat felt like he was home.

The wound that his fangs made on your neck started to burn when he licked and played with it with his tongue. The tears filled your eyes as Lestat laid his head on your neck. He kept drinking from you, slowly, taking little sips with the tip of his tongue, still breathing in your scent. His arms were wrapped around you and you could feel him all over you. He felt himself harden against your hips. He had to do it. He had to put an end to his loneliness.

He slashed his wrist with his nails, deep enough for him to bleed. Then he pressed his wrist against your lips. Your slowly closing eyes opened up at once as the strange taste of blood hit your tongue. Lestat shifted his position to open up the breaches of his trousers. He watched you drink him up hungrily as he lifted your skirt up to your waits. You felt his cold fingertips tracing over your bare stomach and thighs. His blood tasted sweet. Sweeter than the liquors you tasted in the balls, sweeter than the sherbets in the centre of the candies you ate, sweeter than the tropical fruits that your father bought very rarely.

You felt your whole body burn in need, in lust. You felt the buzzing sensation in your brain and your ears ringed. You pushed his hand away and pressed your lips against his own. You had to have him. It was a primal instinct that made you think so. Lestat held your back and positioned himself against your leaking entrance. Your warm walls welcomed him. You were sweet, warm and wet. In that moment it felt like it was all he ever needed. You tasted each other’s blood on your lips as his tongue explored your mouth. The he pushed you back and pressed his wrist back onto your lips. He wanted you to drink, cure your thirst and hunger with him.

He thrusted into you hard and deep as you kept drinking and drinking. He had to tend to you, he had to care for his fledgling. You were his. From head to toe, you belonged to him. Magnus had never claimed him as his own. His mother had no maternal instinct for him. He belonged to no one in this entire world. Nicki was in his own little world despite the love Lestat gave him. And Armand would never belong to anyone. Oh but you, you were perfect for him. Your walls tightened and it drove him over the edge. He ripped his arm away from you and held your face. You whined in need for his blood. His length went deeper and deeper into you as your shaky breaths hit his face.

He heard your heart sync with his own as he looked into your eyes. Your face was covered in blood as you moaned in pleasure. Lestat wanted to get lost in you. He wanted to be buried in you. He spent himself in you with one last thrust and felt your walls tighten more than before as you choked on your breaths and held him tight against you. He looked down at you and saw your thighs and his pubes sticky with blood. I had claimed her in every way possible, he thought.

He let you lay back down as he laid himself on top of you. You tried to catch your breath and he laid his head on your chest, between your breasts. Lestat kissed your skin, his lips left marks of blood on you. Then he felt your hands in his hair. Your fingers played with his lose curls that was ruined when he lost himself in pleasure. He felt your fingertips caressing his forehead and temple, gently, softly. You were still gentle with him even after what he did to you. His shoulders relaxed under your touch and he let out a shaky breath. What was he going to do now? He should’ve ask you before turning you and prisoning you into darkness. How he was different from Magnus when he just grabbed you like a piece of meet and drank your essence of life just to replace it with his rotten, blood of death?

“My family will think I coupled with the devil.” You whispered as you kept caressing his hair. Lestat’s breath hitched in his troath. He looked up to you under his lashes. He looked like a scared little boy in this light. A little boy that feared the monsters under his bed, scared of his father’s rage, scared of life and death. The tears of blood filled his eyes as he looked into your eyes. He saw the bright colour of your irises that matched your new nature. He nodded as he agreed with your statement.

“You have.” He said quietly as he avoided your eyes. He heard your small chuckle, felt his arm move as your chest rised up. You were still so calm. Maybe you were in shock after what he did to you. Poor girl, Lestat thought. I have driven one more innocent into madness.

“How come devil is so pretty then?” You asked as your fingertips trailed around his eyebrows. He stopped frowning with your touch. Then your touch continued to his eyes. Then to his nose. You caressed his straight bone. Finally your fingertips reached to his lips. Your hand brought grace to his well shaped lips. He planted a small kiss to your fingers.

“I never knew devil would look so perfect.” You whispered. As if even you couldn’t believe what you were saying. But Lestat heard you. He heard you so well that he received your compliment as a sharp pain into his heart. Growing up he had always heard that he was a pretty boy. Many of his lovers had said so even after his humanity was ravaged. But he couldn’t see anything but a monster when he looked at himself in the mirror. He had a attraction for violence. He couldn’t feel fulfilled if he didn’t kill. And he couldn’t satisfy himself if he didn’t hurt.

“You don’t know what I am. How can you say I am perfect after what I’ve done to you?” He asked his his tears started to spill from his eyes. You caught them before they could flow down his cheeks. Your small, soft smile remained on your lips. Lestat thought that he never seen someone so beautiful. He was surrounded by your smell, your beauty and compassion. He was covered in your blood and you were carrying his blood. He felt himself warm next to you. Centuries of coldness in his chest was replaced with your smile. He could feel your body calling for him, desperate for his touch and taste. There was a soreness in his troath. He wanted to scream it out.

“You have bewitched me.” You said, almost like a confession. His sharp gaze found your eyes immediately. Lestat’s tears kept spilling from his eyes as he laid his head on your chest again. He stayed in your arms who knows for how long. How could he let you go know? When you were calling him perfect, even after seeing his blood thirsty animalistic side, touching him with love and passion, carrying a piece of him in you, opening your arms for him without a question and accepting him as he is?

The next time Lestat knew loneliness was the hardest time.

You were a great companion, lover and a wife for him after the night he had you in your room, in your bed of youth and innocence. You were a brave little thing that was ready to face an army for him. He felt like the luckiest man alive when your laughs echoed trough the walls of your home. After decades he was finally living, sleeping in a house that he called home. He tried to taught you french but you were impatient and often ran away from his grasp to play his favourite melodies on the piano. He couldn’t get mad at you and watched you for hours as you played, looking at him for the whole time with a big grin on your face. He bought you the finest dresses in your favourite colours, had beautiful jewellery made for you. He loved making you happy more than everything in the whole world.

You were getting into an excited hurry every time you two decide to host a party in your home. People of your city were adoring both of you as a couple. You were so cheerful that there was no room people didn’t smile and the place didn’t lighten up as you entered. Men and women considered themselves lucky if you danced with them. But Lestat knew your first and last dance always belonged to him. Your heart and soul belonged to him. He didn’t know how many nights he pressed his forehead against yours, smiled like a teenage boy in the bliss of love and lifted you into air as your skirts flied behind you and your laughs filled ears of fortunate mortals. His heart was syncing with someone that loved him deeply. And he was so full of love, that he couldn’t remember the times he had lost himself in darkness.

He would have children with you if he could. If he was still a human. He would love to raise a boy that looked like you and a girl that looked like him. He had imagined the picture many nights as he closed his eyes in his coffin, his arms wrapped tight around you. He could see them running around the house, laughing beautifully like you. He could see them growing up and having their own lives as he grew old with you. I was so close to have a life, he thought after every single time he dreamt. The thought brought him sorrow. But he had you. It was more than enough for him.

Lestat met with your family when you two decided to get married. Your parents loved him. They called him a great gentleman with knowledge and culture. A husband fit for my daughter’s hand, your father said. But as the years went by and you still didnt have children or added wrinkle over there and there, your family sank nto silence. The letters became lesser and lesser. By the last letter, it was a dry piece of paper with few words written on it. No feelings, no longing or great love of your mother. You two attended the funeral of your father as he passed away after 15 years of your marriage to Lestat. Your mother’s eyes filled with tears and hatred as you watched your father getting buried. Lestat held you as you fought so hard to keep your tears back from spilling. You could see everyone’s eyes on you, examining you with fear planted in their heart, convinced that you are no longer the girl they knew. You tried to approach your mother and got blocked by cousins and other relatives.

“Tell that devil to leave my poor girl's body and find someone else to be the servant of satan.” You mother’s harsh voice made you step back. And Lestat could hear your heart shatter into pieces. He knew her words were referring to him. How many times I will hear the same thing, phrased differently? He thought. After the funeral you refused to leave your bed chambers for days. You didn’t eat even if Lestat hunted for you. You refused to sleep either. As the sun rose from the east and Lestat closed his coffin, he could hear your muffled cries in your own coffin. You couldn’t get yourself to sleep with him. You couldn’t get yourself to face to world. Your mind kept drifting back to the times you were with your family and how much they loved you. Lestat never wished something as much he wished to hear your thoughts and take your pain away. If he could, he would take all it of to himself. He was used to be in pain since he knew himself. But seeing his sunshine fade away was like tying his hands and feet and abandon him to starve to death.

After days, you left your coffin for the first time. Lestat’s bright eyes scanned your body head to toe. All he could see was a hungry vampire that was broken. Your under eyes were purple and your skin was paler than usual. The veins under your skin was showing trough. You could barely walk and talk as he held you in his arms and carried to the living room. Your hands fell to your thighs and he fell to his knees in front of you. His eyes were filled with concern and fear.

“Ma cherie, you need to eat something.” He said as he tried to make eye contact with you desperately. But your eyes were avoiding him by all cost. Your lips parted and some whispers left your mouth. Lestat leaned closer to hear you.

“It’s you.” He heard you say. He frowned and his mouth opened but nothing came out.

“I don’t understand.” He said quietly after a moment. You looked like a mess in front of him. And he wanted nothing more than pulling you back into his arms and never let you go.

“You never did.” You said as you finally made eye contact with him. “You are the reason of my current state.”

Lestat felt your words form into a dagger and stab him on his heart. His stomach dropped and he fought the urge to get away from you. He wanted to step away and take one more step away and one more… Your eyes were looking at him differently. There was a feeling he never felt from you before. Hate.

“You made me what I am and you ruined me.” Your voice sharp and your eyes full of bitterness. You collected all your strength to get up but it was not enough to keep you standing. Lestat held you gently before you could fall. Then he felt your sharp nails scratch him and rip his hands away from you.

“Don’t ever touch me.” You hissed and crawled away on the big sofa. Lestat’s eyes could not leave the empty space that you used to sit. He could hear your heart beating fast and he could almost taste the poison in your words you spoke out and you were going to speak out.

“You put me in a prison that I will never be able to leave. No matter what I do.” You said. Lestat looked over you and saw the tears of blood flow down your cheeks. Your fragile figure broke his heart repeatedly. He came in front of you on his knees and tried to hold your hand but you pulled away again. He sighed and did his best to hold his tears back.

“It will get better. In time everything will feel less weird and more normal. You will embrace what you are.” Your eyebrows lifted and a cold smirk appeared on your lips.

“And what is that? A murderer? A sinner? A cursed woman?” Your voice raised with each word and Lestat moved away. He turned around to avoid your eyes and words. His left hand found the corner of the window to lean down and his right hand covered his mouth. Muffled cries left his lungs as he shut his eyes tight.

“You will carry this feeling for the rest of your life.” You said and your presence left the house in seconds. Lestat did not move from his spot as he felt you going away from him. Your heart beats faded away in the night until he couldn’t hear you anymore. Me and you both, he wanted to say.

8 years.

He didn’t see you for 8 years after that night. He knew you were out of the city, far away from him. He called for you every night for a year at first. He screamed your name in darkness, hoping desperately that maybe you would hear and answer him. But you didn’t. Once his voice became hoarse, he wrote letters to your family. But got nothing back. Was it still possible for them to take you back after everything? Your mother couldn’t look at you and your siblings had nothing but fear and disgust in their eyes when they glanced at your direction. You were truly all alone in the entire world. You had no one but the person who trapped you into loneliness.

Lestat wandered around the city for days, searching for your scent, your gentle figure. You were no where to be found. He stopped going out after some time and trapped himself into his house. His coffin was full of pictures he could find of you. For nights he stared at your smiling face, frozen in those moments of happiness and joy. He missed your smile. He craved for you in every way possible. The house felt like a grave and his good old friend, the coldness was back. The memories of his youth started to haunt him one by one as he laid in his coffin during daytime. He could not find sleep when your side of the coffin was all empty.

He thought about his life before and after Magnus. He wondered if he would have a good life still if he wasn’t turned into a vampire. The thought of not meeting with you sent a gut-wrenching pain to his stomach. You’d be centuries apart, in different lives and countries. The picture of you marrying a decent man that your family found for you, wear a wedding dress for him, have his children, raise kids that looked like you and some man, have fights and love making nights with him, grow old with him and hold his hand while you greeted by the merciful arms of death made him tear up. He felt his heart pound painfully fast in his chest. A sob ripped from his throat and this time he didn’t cover his mouth. The guilt ate him from inside out. The honeymoon was over and now, he had the face the fact that he stole your whole life, your one chance of being alive, only for him to take your love for himself, selfishly and hungrily.

As the days turned into weeks and weeks urned into months, Lestat started to lose his hopes of seeing you again. Once again he was assured that no one could love a man like him. He didn’t want to stay in the house that use to be the home to two of you. Every corner was you and he couldn’t finish a day without thinking of the times you had spent together. But the small chance of you coming back made him stay. If you wanted to come back, you would love to see everything same and your husband waiting for you, Lestat told himself in the moments of doubt.

And one day you opened that door and came back. He was in the music room when he heard your heart beats. He felt like the time had frozen and his heart skipped a beat. His fingers on the piano stopped, his lips twitched with longing and tears formed in his eyes. When he saw you again, standing in front of him, beautiful as always, he wanted to get on his knees in front of you and beg you to forgive him for what he did to you. Then his eyes found the little body of the human boy in your arms. The child was maximum 4 and he was shaking uncontrollable. His blonde hair was dump on his forehead and weak breaths mixed with moans were leaving his mouth. Lestat didn’t need to be doctor to know that the boy was in great pain. And perhaps fear.

“He is going to die.” You said and hearing your voice after years made Lestat break down. He had to turn around at the doorway to hide his tears.

“Help me. Please.” Cracked noise from your sore throat was heard in the room. The boy was clinging to your dress, like a little lamb. You walked towards your husband as you held the little child tighter.

“Please save him. For me?” Lestat didn’t know if he was feeling grateful that you were back, guilty for his mistake or angry because you only showed up when you needed something from him. He looked at the boy. He was cute little thing with blue eyes like ocean and long blonde lashes that framed his doe eyes. He saw his clear tears run down his face as he coughed. An innocent, Lestat thought. An innocent dying in the arms of the woman I love.

“You can turn him. I don’t know how to. But you do. Please Lestat.” He saw your tears dripping down to the boy’s hands on your dress. The pain in your voice twisted his stomach. You sounded helpless and he whished nothing more than take this feeling away from you.

He shook his head no.

“I can’t.” He spoke. The dryness in his voice made more tears fall down your eyes. You held the boy closer to your heart. His head rested on your heart as you caressed his blonde curls. The curls that reminded you so much of Lestat.

“Yes, you can. Do it for me, please!” You were ready to beg if you needed to. There was nothing more you wanted than saving his little life. He had to live. He had to survive this filthy world and show everyone that he was strong. And maybe you would have a chance of being a mother.

“Children cannot be turned.” Lestat said as he reached out to hold you but you took a step back. You were shaking your head endlessly as tears kept flowing down your cheeks.

“Great laws forbid it. Otherwise a vampire child would live in misery.” He remembered Marius’s voice as he spoke these words to him before he sent him away. Someone under 17 cannot be given the dark gift.

“Laws? Are you serious? He will die if you don’t save him!” Your scream echoed through the walls and found his ears and heart. Your anger and sorrow shook him slightly. He knew he was walking on thin ice in this very moment. You could turn around and leave him again. And never come back this time. Who knows maybe you would find another vampire out there that could be your companion? Or turn this little boy for you to only make you happy? The thought hardened his blood and tightened his chest.

“My love, he won’t be saved if I turn him. He will live his life in desperation. For something more. Something he will never have.” He said gently as he wiped his tears away. He had to be strong. For both of you. His eyes found the boy again. He was so thin. Lestat wanted to put an end to his suffering. The boy’s eyes opened slightly and he looked at you. His fingers were shut tight over the fabric of your dress. Lestat could feel your love and care for him. You felt like you had to protect him. The boy’s big eyes found him. He looked at him with softness and hope. His eyes are full of life even when his life slips away from his body, just like hers were once upon a time, Lestat thought.

“We can be a family Lestat. He can be our son.” You said quietly. As if you feared that the world would take him away from you if they heard your words. “He looks just like you.”

Lestat didn’t look away from the boy. Yes, he did look like him. His blonde curls were just over his shoulders and his nose was small like Lestat’s nose when he was little. His mother loves him, unlike mine, he told himself.

“You and I and him. We can be happy together. We can try again.” The desperation in your voice broke his heart. You were willing to go back to him. To where you belong. Lestat wanted you back in the house, in his arms, in his coffin. He wanted you on his lips, on his skin. He wanted your fangs back in his neck and your heart on his. He wanted to be the one made you smile again and he wanted to be your dance partner in your extravagant parties. He wanted the boy to watch two of you as you danced and clap for his parents. He wanted to take him into his arms and feel a father’s strength in his bones. He wanted the pure and unconditional love of a son. The one he used to have for his father, way before he became his father’s unexplainable enemy. He wanted to see the boy become a man and be his pride.

“We are killers. A child has no place among the demons.” His words cut sharp as the boy started to cough again. The blood covered his lips as you tried to calm him down. Your own tears were spilling uncontrollably and sobs were coming between your lips. Lestat heard your irregular heartbeats.

“He cannot die.” You said between your sobs and cries as the boy kept coughing his blood out. You fell to your knees and kept his little head on your heart. His small, fragile hands were holding your hand tight. The fear in his eyes were piercing trough Lestat chest. He knelt beside you, held your back to his chest as you rocked back and forth. Both of you stopped breathing as the boy’s heartbeats started to slow down. His breaths calmed down and he closed his eyes. He clinged to your cold skin and did not let your hand go. With his last breath your head dropped back to Lestat’s shoulder. His arms were wrapped tight around both you and the boy. His long fingers intertwined with your and the boy’s hand. His decreasing temperature was slowly matching the coldness of both vampires.

“My son…” he hard your whisper. Your eyes were focused on the ceiling. Lestat buried his face in your neck when your cries filled the room. If only I could take all your pain away, he wanted to say but words did not leave his mouth. He could take your pain away, if only he made you a mother and gave you another family.

Lestat carried you to the coffin when you were exhausted from crying. He took the boy’s lifeless body and burnt it while you slept. He stayed until he was nothing but ash. He looked at the scene as the flames took him away and listened as his bones cracked and his flesh melted down. He didn’t let himself cry. It was his vilest murder. He had no right to feel guilt or shame.

He laid beside you in the coffin. You were whispering and crying still, even in your sleep. His fingers traced over your hands gently. He looked at your sleeping form and took a deep breath. Your scent filled his lungs once again after many years. His insides blossomed and he felt the life come back to his body. You were his home. It didn’t matter to him which form you were in or how you looked like. It didn’t matter if you were laughing or in sorrow. As long as you were beside him, he was happy to have you in any way. And you were back. Lestat knew he could not let you go again. Not after this night. Not when you needed him the most. He was the only one you had left with and he had no intention of leaving you alone. He was going to make you happy again. Just two of you were enough.

“You came into my life when I needed you the most. Now it is my turn to bring you joy.” He whispered to your ear and wrapped his arm around your waist. Your eyes opened as he closed his own. Your gaze traveled trough his beautiful features. He was beautiful as the first day you saw him. Years ago, in that party, where you were still innocent and human. Now I know that devil can be this pretty, you thought.

Lestat was in the corner of your mind for 8 years. You were carrying him in you wherever you traveled to. His face was carved onto your eyelids and you were too afraid to close your eyes. His voice kept echoing in your head when you killed, drank or spared a life. You played his favourite songs on the piano when you needed him by your side. But no matter how much you missed him, you couldn’t forgive him. You knew Lestat De Lioncourt loved you. You felt it in your bones, in your flesh. You carried his love in your veins. But you knew he cursed you forever. And you weren’t naive like you used to be to forgive and forget what he did to you. You were young and in love. How could you know it meant to lose your everything when you gave yourself to him that night?

You could not deny the fact that you were happy at first. Lestat gave you things no one ever did. He respected you, he loved you gently and made you feel like the only woman in the world. And you loved him. There was something in Lestat that pulled you to him. You were like opposite sides of a magnet. It felt right to touch and kiss him. Your heart craved for his heart just like your body craved for him. When he was deep in you, made you scream his name and planted soft kisses to your face, life was good. Until you started to see question marks on people’s faces. You were in peace with your fate and the things came with your new life. But everything seemed meaningless once it cost you your family. Lestat’s arms failed to comfort you when you were invited to your own father’s funeral at the last minute and saw that no one wanted you there. Not even your own mother.

You were motherless and fatherless. You were a demon who could only see the world under the dark sky. You could only stay alive if you killed humans. And seeing Lestat every single moment of your life vexed you. At the time you needed someone to blame other than yourself. You were already aware of your mistakes. And knowing that Lestat still turned you despite the fact that he knew what kind of a curse he was bringing on you, made his existence unbearable. You had to leave. You had to be alone with yourself after decades of marriage. Still, no matter where you went, Lestat was the only thing your heart ever wanted. You would always love him.

Then you found him. Leonardo. That was his name, you tried to remember. He was the son of a homeless woman that lived on the street of your small home. It was nighttime when you heard his cries. You saw his dead mother and him crying his eyes out over her body. You felt your heart shatter into pieces with the sight in front of you. He was so small and so scared. When his blue eyes found you and you could see his face clearly, you knew that you could not leave him to die. His arms reached out to you when you knelt beside him. He didn’t know why his mother wasn’t waking up and taking him into her arms. He was shaking and coughing between his sobs full of fear.

“Mummy.” He cried as you caressed his blonde curls to calm him down. He was cold and hungry and sick. I want to help you. I need to hold you, you thought as he snuggled to your chest. There was only one person who could help you. But could you go back to him? After everything that happened between you? Could you find that strength in yourself or would he take you back?

“Mummy!” Leonardo screeched in your lap in pain as his coughs got harder. His little hands were trying to hold your arms. You had to do it. Both for yourself and him. So that was now you found yourself in front of the door of your home.

You reached to hold his cheek. His breath quickened with your touch but his eyes kept shut. You were pressed against him. Your lips were nearly touching and you could feel his breaths all over your face. Your fingertips traced over his face to his neck and to his chest. His body shook. The soft touch made you both shiver when your hand slipped under his expensive shirt. It has been years since you last touched one another and you realised how much you missed him. You needed to touch him. When you pressed your lips against his, Lestat’s arms wrapped tighter around you. His kisses and biting continued to your neck and to your chest. The soft lips of your lover were sending you into oblivion. You had to be closer to him. Closer than being skin to skin, something more, something more painful, something full of love and the suffering that comes with it. Something that would destroy that pit in your stomach and be worth of all your sorrow.

“I love you. I live you. I-“ Lestat’s raggedy voice stopped as he kept kissing you hungrily. His words weren’t able to keep up with his desire. Your mind was foggy as he undressed himself first, then you. Tears were flowing down your cheeks and you were feeling his cold fingers spread the wetness between your legs. His fingertip caressed your leaking opening and moans left your mouth. You could barely see because of tears when you held his face and made him look at you. He was crying too. You kissed him. His tears and yours mixed up and found your pressed lips. The taste of blood was exquisite, vibrating, destructive.

The next thing you knew was you were on top of him, the lid of the coffin was wide opened, he was inside you, fully. You rode him to the bottom of the coffin, hard and deep as his impressive size stretched you out immensely. Your eyes rolled back when his hands groped your breasts. He was talking but you couldn’t hear him. Your ears were ringing and the pain was too great. Your moves became faster and harsher. Your sharp nails digged into his chest and scratched him all over.

“You’re crying.” Finally you heard him and opened your eyes again. It was a mess in his coffin. His chest, between your legs, his face, your body, you were both covered in blood. Yet Lestat managed to smile when he saw the unsettled look on your face. He held your waits tight and moved you back on forth gently on him. He kept caressing your body and say sweet nothings as he controlled your movements.

All the memories of your shared life passed before your eyes as you went closer to the edge. Your legs shook when Lestat’s thumb found your pearl and circled it skilfully. There was a soreness in your throat and your climax was building in your lower belly. The image of two of you filled your mind over and over again. The image of you happy. Would you be able to be like that again? You didn’t know. And learning the answer of this question scared you to death.

“I can’t.” You cried out when your orgasm hit you hard. Your body froze as Lestat kept his hands on you and reached to his climax. His dead seed spilled into you. Deep into your dead womb that was never going to be a home to a babe. Was Lestat enough for you to be fulfilled? Were you going to be enough for him when he got bored of searching for things that made him feel human, made him feel young again?

When you made eye contact again, you could see fear and doubt in his eyes. He was scared that you were going to leave him, just like everyone he ever loved. And he was not sure if it was still you in your body. He was looking for you in the eyes he saw for thousands of times and more. Yet nothing about your eyes felt familiar. Your body felt like you, your kisses felt like you, your heart felt like you. But it was almost like a death itself looking down at him in this moment. He left out a deep breath when you leaned down and laid on his chest.

His heartbeats were fast under your cheek. You turned a little and pressed a tender kiss to his chest. And another. And another. You kissed him until new tears stained your face. You hoped that you could find him again one day. You hoped that you were both humans when you meet again. You hoped that you had a life in another world, with the love of your life. You knew Lestat would find you no matter what. He would love you the same if not more. He would be yours in every lifetime until you had no more love to give.

“I’ll love you forever. Now and always. Until my last day and after.” You whispered but your quiet words reached to Lestat’s ears. He smiled sadly, his tears spilled down to his paper white pillow. He tried to speak but his voice shattered.

“And I you.” He could only say without sobbing. He shut his eyes tight when he heard you fall asleep on him. Tomorrow was going to be better. Everything was going to alright. He had you in his arms. And he needed nothing more.

—

When Lestat opened his eyes again, the first thing he felt was pain. His eyes were watering and he couldn’t even press his lips together to cover up his moans. He licked his dry, chapped lips with the last strength before he was breathless again. In the darkness of his coffin, his shiny eyes looked around desperately. He could feel the air hitting his burned body and make his wounds boil. He cried out your name. You were not in his arms. Where could you possibly be? Were you harmed too? What if you were harmed worse than him? You were younger and weaker than your maker. Lestat had to put himself together and find you, his dear fledgling. When he pushed opened his coffin lid, he saw the the wide open curtains that were usually closed. It was dark outside. The moon light was the only thing that was bright in the pitch black room.

It was only then he saw his burned body. Front of his arms, his whole chest, his thighs and his face were all covered in ashy wounds that were slowly healing. His blood red flesh was showing trough the burned skin pieces. They sizzled as the new skin was forming over them. But before he could think about his wounds, he had to find you. Why the curtains were open? They were always supposed to be shut. Just in case if any of you had to wake up when sun was still up during the day. He dragged his feet to the short, wide corridor of the second floor. All the doors and the windows were open, he frowned in confusion. His head was banging quiet like a bomb explosion. His body was aching and he was afraid. He was afraid just like the night Magnus took him from his room.

He walked fast as he could and entered the music room. You were no where to be seen. Lestat’s nose scrunched when he breathed in the strange smell in the room. He felt the smell stick onto his lungs and enter every bit of him. It was haunting and indescribable. It almost felt like he could taste it on his tongue. That strange, unpleasant, obnoxious flavour was so familiar on Lestat’s throat, yet he could find no name for it. He took few steps to his piano. His favourite tunes ringed in his ears. He could see your ghost of a fingers on the keyboard, playing all gracefully.

When he looked down, a pile of grey, powdery substance caught his attention. How could he possibly not see this when he entered the room? He got on his knees and the source of smell was undeniably found. As he touched the powder, he felt his whole body shake in horror. His eyes closed tight when the faded memory of you getting up from the coffin came back.

“I love you. I love you. I love…” the words were repeated over and over again. Not thousands but maybe hundreds and thousands of times. He could hear you. You were not in the coffin. He could hear your steps in the room. Then he could hear your steps in the corridor. You were going in and out of rooms. Lestat could hear you mumbling things under your breath. He could hear your heartbeats and your rushed moves.

He wanted to open the lid of his coffin and get out. It was probably near sunrise and you had to go back to sleeping. When he pushed the lid, something blocked his exit. He tried to kick it and punch it when he heard you play the piano and keep talking.

“I want to see the sun rise in the sky again.” You said. “I want to see the clouds on the blue ocean of time.”

He called for you but you were not listening to him. As you played the melody from start to end, the fear in Lestat’s heart grew stronger. And when your fingers stopped, he felt a sharp pain all over his body. It was something he had never felt before. The greatest pain he felt was when he was transformed. He could never forget what it felt like for the next thousand years. But this, this was different. It was coming from somewhere deep. He wanted to rip his stomach open and find the core of the pain. His coffin got filled with his dreadful scream and he heard you shout in agony. He felt the pain in every inch of his body. With one last hard kick, he opened the lid successfully. Only to be greeted by bright, warm sunlight that was glowing beautifully in your shared chambers.

His skin started to burn immediately, and it was then Lestat knew what was happening. His jaw clenched and his tears burned his wounds when he heard your screams from the other side of the house.

“What have you done?!” He shouted but you didn’t respond. The sunlight was nothing compared the pain he was in as you kept burning. He could feel his blood boil in veins as yours dried up under the daylight. You were leaving him.

‘I have loved you, with everything I had in me.’ Lestat didn’t know if you spoke aloud or he just imagined, rather wished you have said it. Maybe it wasn’t too late, Lestat tried to get up but his body was damaged enormously. He could feel the sunlight penetrate into his bones with every second he was spending in front of the open curtains. But he had to save you! He cried and tried to get up again. And again and again. Until he couldn’t hear your screams anymore.

The house fell into a dead silence in seconds. Only thing that could be heard was the silent sizzling of Lestat’s burns. He stoped breathing and he stoped trying to get up. His lifeless eyes fell onto his hands. He laid back in his coffin and pulled the lid back on with a stinging move.

It was a nightmare. An unbelievably bad nightmare. Maybe the worst one he had have been for decades. You were sleeping in your own coffin peacefully. Lestat was going to see you when sun came down and he was going to kiss your lips with a smile on his face. He was going to carry you around the house like a princess and read your favourite poems just for you. You were going to forgive. And maybe in time, you were going to forget. He was going to change and try to be someone better than who he was now. Both of you were going to be happy again, together. He smiled with excitement with the thoughts on his mind. The smell of burned flesh tickled his nose.

—

“You do not know this girl!” Lestat said aggressively as he watched Louis lay the little girl on the bed carefully. Louis’s bright green eyes were full of fear and guilt when he faced Lestat again.

“Make her like us!” He said with a bitter hope in his voice. Lestat pressed his lips together when he heard him utter those words. This cannot be happening, he assured himself hopelessly.

“Non c’est impossible. Elle est trop jeune!” Lestat said in frustration as Louis walked closer to him with hurry. Lestat's heart was pounding fast in his chest. The images of a distant memory was blurring his vision. The same eyes from decades ago were looking at him again. The same eyes that were full of guilt, sorrow and hope with an innocent child at the edge of death in the arms of the person he loved. His chest tightened when Louis kept talking, pleading to save the little girl’s life. What could Lestat do? Was he curse to live same life over and over again for the rest of the eternity?

He could never forget you. He didn’t know how long he mourned you. Days, months, years? Maybe he was still mourning you with the little box in his closet that was filled with your ashes. It took him years to find the courage to try again. And when he kissed Louis for the first time, he felt like finding light in his murky world. But guilt ate him inside out. He wondered if you would be wounded when you learned that he was capable of loving again. He tried to reassure himself that the thing he had with Louis was different than what he had with you. You would always be his wife. Your wedding ring on a necklace that was around his neck was the proof of it.

“Please I can’t have her die!” The pain in Louis’s voice broke his heart. He remembered this feeling so well that it almost hit him on the face. He remembered how it felt like to be helpless when his lover was begging him to change things, set things right and how he couldn’t do it.

“The gift cannot be given to children.” He said when his anger and fear filled him to his limit. The look on Louis’s face twisted something in his stomach.

“What do you mean? Yes it can.” Louis said breathlessly as he tried to find his strength back. All he needed was to save this girl’s precious life. She laid on the bed, unconscious, coughing out the flames silently and she was all he needed in that moment.

“The great laws forbid it!” Lestat spited out as if he had poison on his tongue. Anger appeared on Louis’s face and Lestat regretted what he just said.

“The great laws?” Louis said mockingly. He sounded bitter and every octave of his voice cut both men deeply. “She gonna die in front of us!”

The next thing Lestat knew was that Louis dragged the little girl on the flour, cried, begged, cried, fell on his knees in front of his companion and cried. Louis’s usually gentle hands found Lestat’s body, he held onto him like he was the last thing on the world.

“Please, please.” It was all Lestat could hear. And the little girl’s raggedy breaths that were becoming slower and slower.

“My beautiful little daughter.” Lestat could not swallow, could not hold his tears back or his heartbeats stable when he heard Louis’s voice shatter as he said the words. He hated how his story repeated itself. He hated how he was always the one who had to make this decision.

“Please I’ll be anything.” Louis begged and cried. Lestat wanted to curl into a ball and never wake up again. He looked down at this companion, his lover, the man who saved him, begging him to make him a father.

“Please, please, please…” It was all Louis was saying when Lestat remembered your screams after your little boy died. He remembered how yours eyes looked dead inside and even your smiles were full of grief. He remembered how you begged him and he didn’t listen to you. And then how he lost you. He was a fool to think that you were going to be alright after your son died. He was a fool to think you were going to forgive him and be happy again. And he was a fool to think that you were going to stay with him after what he did to you.

There was a no day passed after your death that he didn’t regret not turning that boy. Great laws forbid it! At what cost he had followed the laws when he was on the other side of the world, oceans away from the last vampire he had seen? He regretted his choice everyday of his last few years and he didn’t know if he would be able to mourn one more person.

He looked down at Louis and saw your crying eyes stare back at him. He looked up instantly.

“You will regret this for the rest of your life.” He said. Yet he didn’t know if he was talking to himself or Louis. Maybe both. He walked to the little girl on the floor and picked her body with ease. Poor thing was covered in burns and couldn’t open her eyes. His blue eyes found Louis’s relieved shoulders and his fangs found the girl’s small neck.

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Mate Chapter 17

Warnings: Read at your own will, trauma, bondage, abuse, assault, obsession, stockholm syndrome, brainwashing, paraphilic infantilism, loss of freedom, loss of will, religious abuse, ritual abuse, sacrilege, grey sexual assault (reader doesn't confirm), odaxelagnia, soul binding, uncomfortable themes, judgements, angst, ateez are evil (not in real life), humiliation, sexual humiliation, murder, violence, self harm, manipulation, implied non concent

Living with someone for 6 years you learn so much. You learn what makes them tick. You learn what angers them. You know there likes and dislikes. What you don't expect is for your world to come crashing down and everything you love to sicken you. Every idea of them to change. It felt wrong to say the people who cared and loved you were monsters. It was wrong to even think they were anything different and that was the hardest pill for Y/N to swallow. She knew for years the real truths but she loved that about them. She loved their flaws. She loved them, but there was nothing she could do now. Y/N had to learn to love again and learn a whole new meaning of love, but right now her heart couldn't take anymore. She was tired, hurt and heartbroken to the point Hyunjin had to drag her by the scruff of her neck back to their home. She didn't fight him, instead, she fell limp in his mouth like a dead wolf while Jeongin trotted behind them. Jeongin tried to keep his thoughts quiet, not wanting to impose his views or thoughts. "Hyunjin. Jeongin. Is Y/N alright? Please say she's alright. I tried to phone Chan but his phone is switched off." Minho ran out of the house when he saw the two wolves carrying a limp grey wolf to the door. The grey wolf looked lifeless, dead even.

Y/N could hear it in Minho's voice that he was distraught, but she didn't have the energy to lift her head up. She heard Minho walk towards her when Hyunjin let out a threatening growl, causing the beta to gasp. "Hyunjin I'm not going to hurt her. I want to see her." Minho almost pleaded but Hyunjin snarled at him. The elder beta was trying his best to reach the omega but the alphas were too standoffish. Jeongin too was not prepared to let another beta near her as he covered the omega. "Jeongin." Minho whimpered as he looked at the young alpha who he grew up with. It shocked the wolf, he never expected such aggression from the young alpha. Minho didn't know what to do, he felt lost as an elder. None of the wolves were listening to him. Seungmin and Changbin had practically outcasted Felix for causing their omega to leave. They thought that Y/N wanted to return to Hongjoong, but what they didn't realise was that she wanted to stop Hongjoong. They didn't understand. None of the beta's did and it was upsetting them. They couldn't settle knowing something was wrong with their omega. They needed their alphas to communicate, they needed to know to fix this. In the end, Minho gave up and retreated back inside to see a broken Felix curled up on the sofa, tears streaming down his face as he shook. "Felix why don't you go upstairs and rest." Minho offered. "I can't. Changbin broke my nest. He said it was all my fault. He said I'm a terrible beta. He said I should have been born an omega." Felix's shuddered as he heard a bang coming from his room.

Minho decided he couldn't take it anymore and stormed up to Felix's room to stop the Beta's when an angry Chan called them all downstairs. The four betas stood in front of Chan quietly as they faced him. "Now, I don't know what has happened, but right now my omega is my priority. What I need from you is to sort yourselves out. Until I know how she is, none of you are walking away from this. You are my pack. My wolves. My family, so do not fight. She is our family so stop this nonsense." Chan's voice was low as he spoke to them. "I-I'm sorry." Felix sniffed out. Chan gave a nod of recognition before heading outside to phase into his wolf form. Chan's silver wolf headed straight to his omega, sniffing all over her, checking for wounds. "Y/N? Baby, are you alright?" Chan nudged her with his snout, whining. Y/N flashed a load of images in her mind of what happened but Chan didn't understand so Hyunjin explained how she wanted to protect them. How she felt she could reason with Hongjoong and why her feelings were acceptable. As much as Chan didn't like seeing it, he needed to understand everything. He needed to truly understand who Hongjoong was and what he was capable of in order to protect his pack. To protect Y/N and Hyunjin. "They. They hurt her Chan. They hurt our omega. They did things." Jeongin tried to explain but ended up sharing a load of images causing Y/N to whine in pain. "I still don't understand. Someone explain to me what is going on." Chan growled as he licked her face affectionately. "Chan we need to get her to phase. Y/N never phases. She never phased with Hongjoong. She's going to be exhausted." Hyunjin explained with a huff causing the head alpha to snap his head up at the black wolf "How do you know she never phased, huh? You can read minds not her whole life story." Chan's voice was hoarse as he noticed the way Hyunjin crouched over her. He noticed it in the car as he was pulling up, the way Hyunjin was checking over her, nuzzling affectionately. Hyunjin looked as if he was familiar with her and Chan knew there was something Hyunjin wasn't telling him. Hyunjins silence told him all that he needed to know. "I stole you from Hongjoong. My omega. My soulmate lived with Hongjoong. Don't you think that's odd? You're still full of secrets Hyunjin. I thought we were past that." Chan asked darkly as he pulled the limp omega towards him with his paw, dominating his authority, and showing him the power he has. "She is yours. She is Jeongins but she is also mine." Hyunjin answered. Both wolves not realising a confused Jeongin was watching the scene unfold. He had no idea what was about to happen. "I could take her away from you. I could remove you." Chan asked causing the young alpha to gasp. He didn't expect Chan to banish Hyunjin, surely there was an explanation. "You could remove me and strip me of my titles, but then you'll never know how me and her are bound," Hyunjin stated, his wolf standing taller, preparing to challenge if he had to. "I never lied to you. I just hid my knowledge of he-" "I can still hear you, you know," Y/N grumbled causing the wolves to freeze.

Jeongin whined and crawled under his head alpha to reach the omega to nuzzle. The young alpha was feeling heavily confused and wanted her to rest. Chan huffed as he felt the small alpha crawl under him like a child. Chan smacked the back of his head at his childlike behaviour causing the younger alpha to huff. Jeongin nuzzled Y/N affectionately to remind her he still was there. "Let's phase back. I'll tell you what I know about Hongjoong." Y/N answered groggily. "We can do it tomorrow when Jisung is better." Jeongin offered. "Better? What did you do?" Y/N asked. Fear clouded her mind. "Jisung went into a rut. After feeling you around him." Chan answered, glaring at the thought of Jisung accidentally 'falling into her', until a thought popped into his head, Hyunjin would have claimed already. "Don't be so disappointed. I always looked after my pretty omega." Hyunjin taunted causing Chan to growl in a threatening manner but Y/N put a stop to it when she managed to phase back on her own, frightening Jeongin with her nakedness along the way.

Once the two hot-headed alphas put aside their feud temporarily, Y/N was ready to tell her story. It wasn't a nice story but they were all prepared for it and knew they had to listen to understand her, and quite possibly what they might be up against. "Alright. What was the last thing I said?" Y/N asked nervously. She knew it was best to start at the beginning but Y/N couldn't quite remember what point she had left on. "You told us your childhood, up until the point you were handed over to Ateez," Jeongin explained as he shuffled on the cushion, trying his best to get comfortable as he knew what was coming. "Ah. Alright. The head alpha of my pack, Jackson, my father. He handed me over to Hongjoon. Now Hongjoong's pack was a well-known respected alpha in our area and our alpha often worked closely with them along with other packs, but Jackson chose Hongjoong. Why? Because he knew Hongjoong worked with dark aura and knew a possible witch who meddled with dark magic. Of course, you knew the rumours as much as we did. Hongjoong had lots of rumours about him. What I didn't know at the time but learned later was that Hongjoong helped Jackson create an Apex. It may have been the reason both the mother and the apex died, but that's a different story or conspiracy.

Hongjoong, let's say, was very different at the beginning. When I met Hongjoong I was worried, but I was worried about being around any alpha. He knew that. He obviously knew the rumours but he wanted to prove them wrong at the beginning. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were the first two I met at the beginning. They were sweet. Very kind, actually. Hongjoong wanted to court me at the beginning. He took me on dates, and bought my flowers the usual things a head alpha would do when there courting. Seonghwa sometimes came with him, but he was a little bit more reserved. Sometimes he would ask invasive questions about my pack, my politics, my virtue, but I never questioned it. Fast forward two years I moved in with them, now bare in mind I had no idea what Hongjoong's expectations were.

Now, the first half was fine. Hongjoong was very sweet. He waited a long time before ever claiming me, 6 months actually. Hongjoong always had me involved with everything. If he went to work in the office I came with him. If he was at his computer I sat with him. When there were times he was busy I spent time with the other wolves like Seonghwa, San, Wooyoung. I never really did the things I was trained for as an omega, it was rather the opposite, but I never questioned it. They liked to mollycoddle me, I thought it was cute at the beginning.

Seonghwa. Seonghwa would do things for me, just general things like cooking for me, getting things for me, and babying me, to the point it got restrictive. I didn't notice of course. The way he would pet my hair, tell me I never needed to worry. They all did that to an extent. Sometimes if I got things wrong they would humiliate me in front of the others. Sometimes they laughed at me. Do you know how they humiliated me? They would strip me down naked for days, sometimes they didn't care if another wolf from another pack saw. They would even fuck me in front of each other and make remarks about me. It got worse to the point I stopped doing things completely. Hongjoong said I didn't need to do things just accept I was being loved, but that meant doing nothing. It meant being carried around by Seonghwa and Hongjoong all the time, to the point they bathed me, clothed me, and fed me. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't object. If I did Hongjoong would take me down into the basement where he punished the other wolves for disobedience. Some punishments were isolation. Sitting in the dark, listening to a beta being tortured. Sometimes he would cuff me with bolt cuffs. Sometimes he would cuff me with werewolf traps and ask me to rip my hands out. Sometimes he would try to drown me, poison me, inject me with wolfsbane. That was his way of saying I disappointed him." Y/N stopped and looked at the paled wolves. None of them had spoken. They were stunned into silence. Jisung and Jeongin looked close to being sick. Changbin and Felix were on the verge of tears. The others either held a frown on their face or were completely blank. "Still with me, yeah?" Y/N spoke nervously, waiting for a sign of approval to continue to speak.

"So. To the next part. The ritual. Hongjoong obviously wanted an apex there is no doubt about it. He had been trying to perfect the art of consummation. He practised on lone omegas. Took them in, had sex with them, and presented them to the dark ancestors. When it didn't work he killed them. He had to make sure it was one hundred per cent possible before putting me through it, even if it meant I died. During that night he half drugged me, but not enough to put me to sleep, but enough to keep me with it. Hongjoong was crafting with witches using necromancy to provide an apex. As I didn't have heats because of stress Hongjoong had to force one so my body would accept it. That night I found paperwork's, books of different rituals all over his desk. He was going to lay me in front of a coven of witches and fuck me with my throat slit with another alpha. A strong alpha. The problem was we lost our strongest alpha at the time because I set him free. So on the night before, I took a metal pole and whacked it around the back of his head and left. Alright, it took me longer to get out because Wooyoung heard the commotion but Yeosang managed to get me across the clearing line and told me to keep heading north. The end."

The wolves stared blankly at her, taking in every word she said. They all had questions, lots of them. Some they didn't want answered. None of them could believe what they had heard. They felt sick. "Question?" Seungmin asked as he looked between his omega and Hyunjin, "who was the wolf you set free?" "I don't remember. Seonghwa had brainwashed me into forgetting. The only thing I do remember is we were ambushed by two separate werewolf packs and one had an interest in that alpha. All I know is he was my favourite alpha and I set him free during the fight, but Seonghwa said I imagined it and that it was actually Wooyoung." Y/N answered causing Hyunjin to laugh. "It wasn't Wooyoung you set free. It was me."

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @leezanetheofficial @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627

[todomochi-uwu]

“Hey, you up?”  B.C

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: Don't wanna end this game Hope it goes for eternity Let's not go official, we can keep the "You & Me" Don't ask, "What are we?"

Author's notes: This is sad and steamy. It's been quite some time, sorry. Hope you like it.

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

“Hey, you up?”  

Nights like this always start the same. Same message, same reply, same outcome. Every. Single. Time. And every time you end up the same way. Tangled in your cold bed sheets, staring at ceiling, while he’s quick to look for his clothes and get out as quick as possible. A long time ago you had tried to get him to stay, but now you know it is a lost cause. Chan would never stay over, because staying over is for people in relationships, and he doesn’t do relationships.  

“I’ve never liked labels, if we are having fun, why spoilt it with technicalities?”, he said.  

Things started with you being naive enough to believe that sex would be enough for your fragile heart. Maybe you could get closer to him little by little, you thought, maybe he would grow feelings (well, at least you did) maybe, maybe, maybe...   

Sex with Chan is great, mind-blowing, you’d never had someone who was so focused on your body, on what you like and what sends you over the edge. It was like he had memorized every single nerve of your body, knowing where to touch, where to suck, like or bite. It was everything he did that made you almost addicted to him; the way his fingers would reach places yours could never even imagine; how his tongue and lips seemed to be able to go on forever, never once complaining; the way his hips and his cock would move and thrust sending you into heaven every single time. Chan was a giver in bed, always making sure to put you first while in bed, many orgasms, and blissful hours at a time, but as soon as you were done, he went back to being the same detached man you know.   

And while at first, you could somewhat stand this kind of relationship, it was slowly destroying you on the inside. So, now you lay there, staring at your phone screen, debating yourself. Would it be worth it? At least for a few hours, to be in his arms until your little bubble pops once he’s had his fill. Saving your soul and your mental peace would be a wise decision, but you are weak, weak and in love.  

“Fuck, Chris!” You pulled his hair, his head between your legs, while his lips are wrapped around your clit and his fingers piston in and out of your hole. His other hand keeps your legs open while you thrash them around, unable to keep them still.  

His fingers change into their angle, making you throw your head back, now his tongue kitten licks your small bundle of nerves, “Common, pretty girl. Cum one more time and I’ll fuck you the way you like.” His lips sucked harshly.  

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, please, please, please.” You didn't even know what you were begging for, “Don’t stop, Chan.” Tears threatened to come out, it was too much.   

“You are doing so good, such a good girl, my perfect little slut. Come on, baby cum.” His tongue thrusting itself into you, sending you over the edge. Your back arched and you let out such a sound you were sure the neighbours would complain in the morning, but you couldn't care less right now.  

Eyes closed and desperate for air, your legs numb and a tingly feeling between them, Chan kept lapping at your centre, slurping all your juices, overstimulating you. Your mind was in complete bliss, making you unaware of the producer’s next plans. He was quick to turn you around, grabbing your hips and putting you in four.  

“Fucking hell, you have no idea how much I love your ass.” He said as he spanked your cheeks a couple of times, leaving a dark imprint on both. You moaned and shoved your face into your pillows, you could feel your juices start to spill down your leg.  

“Please, please, fuck me, Chanie.” You wiggled your hips, trying to entice him.  

He grabbed his cock and rubbed your clit with it, “Yeah? You want my cock, baby?” He pressed it against your cunt, pushing a bit in, but it wasn’t enough, “Beg for it, love.”  

You whined, your skin was on fire, and your legs trembled with need, “please, daddy, I’ve been a good girl, please, please, I need your cock, plea...” You screamed.   

Chan shoved himself with a single thrust. Throwing his head back and grabbing your hips tightly, he didn’t give you any time to get used to. “Shit, you are so fucking tight.” His pelvis banged the tender skin of your ass, his balls slapping your clit, and his cock hitting against your cervix. His rhythm was too much, but you wouldn’t dare escape it.  

He leaned himself into you, put his hand right beside your head. He could see how red your face was, the way your mouth let out at sins and how tears ran down your face. And he was loving every single second of it. “Who is making you feel this good, baby?”  

You couldn't even answer, gibberish and moans came out of you, but that wasn’t enough for you. He changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting a sensitive spot inside you, making you scream, his hand went right to your clit, rubbing it in circles, “Answer me. Who?” You tried once again, but nothing clear came out.  

Tired of this, Chan straightens himself, taking you with him. Your back against his chest, his hand choking your neck while his thrust got even quicker, his mouth right next to your ear. “I know you are nothing but a dumb slut, but I’m talking to you, and I expect an answer. Now.” Thrust. “Tell me.” Thrust. “Who’s fucking you this good?”.  He bit you, marking you.  

“You, Chan!” Your thighs burned and you were so close, your juices now ran down his balls, and you felt like passing out. He pushed you to the bed, pressing himself against your back.  

“This pussy is mine, you hear me? No one else can have it.” His thrusts were becoming quicker, shorter and desperate, he was also close. “Only I get to fuck it, you are my whore, no one else’s.” Thrust. “Don’t you dare forget that.”  

Nonsense and his name kept coming out of you like a prayer, everything building up, until the tight knot in your stomach finally snapped, juices squirting everywhere. He wasn’t there yet, so he kept going, overstimulating you, sending your nerves into overdrive.  

“Just a bit more, Babygirl, hold on, yes, you are such a good girl, goddamn how much I love fucking you. Oh god!” And like that, you felt his warmth filling you up, making you cum once again. Slowly, he pulls his cock out, his seed spilling out of you and into your sheets. Your legs finally give in, and you fall flat out into the mattress.   

Your brain is somewhere else, trying to come back down, and Chan is right next to you. His left arm is in his face, he licks his lips in dehydration, his chest falls up and down quickly and his right hand holds tightly onto your thigh, trying to ground himself.   

And just as fast as Chan comes, he goes. He straightens himself, sitting down at the edge of the bed, he’s quiet and distant, looking for his clothes. Not once does the turn to look at you. “Hey, are you okay?”   

“Yeah.” You whisper, laying on your side, facing away from him.  

“Good.” He pulls his pants up, and his shirt next.   

As he’s about to make his great escape, all reason flies out of your head.   

“Hey, Chris?”  

“Yes?”  

“What are we?”  

You wait a few seconds, but nothing comes of his mouth, you have an answer.   

“Yeah, I knew it. Goodbye, Chris.”  

He doesn’t dare anything else, so he leaves.  

Everything had changed in that second, and you both know it.  

_________________  

It had been weeks since that night. All messages had gone unanswered. You were no longer lying in bed wondering if you should do it, you didn't. It was now Chan who tried to reach out.  

“Hey, you up?”  

“Hey, you up?”  

“Hey, you up?”  

“Hey, umm I don’t know if you are busy, but call me when you can. Or text me.”  

“Hey, baby haven’t seen you in a while. Text me. Please.”  

“Hey, did you change your number, and I forgot to save it or...”   

“Hey, I went to that café you like so much, you are right, it’s really good, we should go once you are not so busy. Text me.”  

“Hey, did I do something? Are you mad at me? Cause if I did, please let’s talk it out.”  

“Hey, listen, I don’t want to lose you over something so stupid. Call me. Please.”  

You can’t lose something you never had; you think. Work and friends kept you busy enough so you didn’t think about him in the day, nights were much more complicated, and there were days you were tempted to go back, longing for him, for his touch and his warmth, but you knew it would only make you feel worse.   

Han was the best friend in the world, taking you out and making you break out of your shell little by little, some days it was a party, others it was just the two of you. Some days you felt like you were at the top of the world, whereas others you could only weep in his arms until you passed out from the pain.  

_________________ 

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Makeup and hair done, high heels and heavy earrings, and even though you were trying to erase that fact from your head, his favourite dress on. Han had chosen it for you, and you couldn’t tell him why you had avoided that specific piece of clothing.   

“You ready, sweetie?” He peeked into the room. You nodded, not sure of it.   

_________________ 

Music was blasting out and bright coloured lights covered the entire place. The drink in your hand had served its purpose, you were drunk. In the middle of the dance floor, Han has his hands on your waist, keeping you close while you dance. He whispers sweet things in your ear, while you giggle. It wasn’t something new, this scene had occurred on past occasions, even escalating, but Han and you never dug too deep into it, kisses and casual affairs had once been part of your friendship, and you both were comfortable with that.  

He turned you around, looking into your eyes, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, next on the tip of your nose, and your lips. A simple peck. You put your hands around his neck, swaying your hips, throwing your head back, enjoying the moment.  

“What you thinking about, pretty?” He whispered against your lips.  

“Nothing in particular.” You whisper back.  

He pulls you closer, your head against his neck, and his lips leave small kisses on yours. You feel at ease.  

Until you open your eyes.   

And there he is.  

A drink in his hand, he’s looking at you. His eyes burned holes into Jisung’s back. All air escapes your lungs.  

“Ji, he’s, he’s here.” You whisper-yelled, your pulse going up.  

“What? Chan? Are you sure?”  

“Jisung, he’s here.” Your tongue twists and your fists tighten around his clothes, “He’s here, I don’t know what to do, I, I, I’m not ready.”   

“Okay, calm down, I’m getting you out of here.” He grabs your hand, quick to push his way through the crowd. You make it out of the place, and the cold air hits you, helping regain your breath. “Okay, give me a second, I’m getting the car, wait here.” You try to protest, but he’s gone before you can.   

You stand there, shivering, praying he doesn’t find you, but you smell his cologne before you can even see him.  

 “I thought you and Jisung were only friends.” His tone is harsh, making you flinch, “Is he the reason you’ve been ignoring me?”  

“We are just friends.”  

“Friends don’t kiss like that.”  

“Yeah? Then what the hell were we doing, Chan? Because we sure as hell were not dating.” Your turned to him.   

“Why haven't you answered my texts?”  

“I’ve been busy.”  

“With him?” Venom spits out of his mouth, he’s way past furious. You know he’s jealous, but that throws you off.  

“No, Chan. I have a life out of our little flings, and you know it.”  

“So, you are too busy to answer me, but aren’t too busy to come here and throw yourself into Jisung?”  

Okay. You are done.  

“What do you want me to say, Chan? You have no right to come here and demand an answer. You are not my boyfriend. You and me, we are nothing.”  

“That’s a damn lie and you know it.”  

“Do I? What are we? Because you made it quite clear, you like me Chan, but you don’t love me.”  

“The fact that I don’t like labels, doesn’t...”  

“Oh, cry me a fucking river, Christopher. You don’t want me, but you also don’t want anyone else to have me. You are so fucking cruel.” You cried, tired of everything, of him, “I need to move on, I need it. Please, let me go.”  

Han's car horn ranged loudly, arriving just in time to save you. “I’ve gotta go. Goodbye, Chris.” Same words as that night, the night he lost you. They ran on Chan’s ears.   

He grabbed your hand, tightly, not wanting you to leave, “please, please let’s talk, I don’t want this to end.” Small droplets came out of his eyes, startling you, but you stood your ground.  

“Chan, let me go please.” You tugged.  

“I don’t want to.” He pulled.  

“Don’t make it even harder, please, my heart can’t take it anymore.” You whispered.  

“Give me a chance, please. I’m begging you.  

“No, Chan. I already know how this will end, and I can’t take it.”  

He shook his head, “please.”  

...  

“Can you promise you will be my boyfriend?” Plain and simple.  

“What?” His eyes widened.  

“Can you promise to give us a title? No more casual sex? Will you make it official?”   

You wait a few seconds, but nothing comes of his mouth, you have an answer.   

“Yeah, I knew it. Goodbye, Chris.”  

Everything had ended in that second, and you both know it. 

[unspeakable-imagination]

Not just a One Night Stand || Logan Howlett

Reblogs, likes, and comments always appreciated

My asks are open find my masterlist here

18+ below the cut MDNI

Cw:takes place between origins and xmen 1, porn with little to no plot,nipple peircings, primal kinks, breeding kinks, choking and other breath play, probably a little blood his claws cound as knifeplay?, p in v, cunnilingus/(F receiving oral),he talks you through it🤌, use of alcohol and tabacco, cannon-typical violence, obviously curse words

First time writing smut, tell me how I did

Logan, or as the tags around his neck say, Wolverine, had been living without memories of his past for two years. All he had was a truck, a trailer, and a bike, all of which he won some way through the cage fighting that made him good money.

He knew what he was. He learned it rather quickly, in a world where mutants were cursed apon. That's why he didn't tell a single damn soul, and if they found out, he'd either leave the city or kill the problem that made him loose his patience in the first place.

That was one thing about Logan. He was shockingly patient. Unless it came to the dumb fucks constantly trying to take back the money they'd lost. This night was like any of the rest, fight, drink, find a girl and fuck, then start over again the next night. Or atleast it would have been.

He'd just finished his final cage fight of the night, and gripped the thick envelope filled to the seem with bills of all sorts. he thumbed through and took out some of the lesser bills, ones and fives, then stuffed the envelope inside of his inner coat pocket.

He strutted to the bar while he pulled a half smoked cigar and a basic lighter from his other pocket. By the time he was sitting, he was already twisting the cigar in the flame, lighting the edges to get an even burn. The bartender already knew his order, given that he was here the night before and was already sliding a glass filled with whiskey to the brim over the counter to his place setting.

Then, it happened as usual. Drink, smoke, and look around the bar. And then, like the pretty little thing that you were, you slid into the barstool next to him. "Hey there," you said. Your hair was pulled back into a half up half down style, and your neck was covered in glittering silver chains. Your ears had similarly matching jewley, dangling earrings that hung to your collarbones. You were wearing a tiny black dress with thin straps and stocking with a pair of pumps.

"Hey," he said, looking you up and down. "Ain't you pretty, doll?" He purred. You blinked, flitting your lashed at him.

"I'd sure hope so if it meant I caught your attention," you hummed. You motioned to the tender and asked for something simple, but logan didn't hear what it was. He was to focused on drinking you in, staring at you, noticing every little detail of your body that he could see. He almost had to stop himself from groaning when he noticed the special way that your dress perked around your nipples, the shape of peircings peeking through. You glanced over as you received your drink,

"Mind if i have a drag, please?" you hummed, raising your head and watching him carefully. You're eyes looked to his cigar and back up, your tounge darting out to lick your lips. You watched a cloud of smoke that was bearly falling from his lips suck back on when he took a deep breath.

"Here," he said, pulling the cigar from his lips to hand it to you. He watched your fingers, dainty as they were compared to his, gently pull it from his grasp. He watched as you brought it to your own mouth, taking a pull. He watched the embers glow and recede, he watched the way you closed your eyes and tilted your head back. He watched the way the vein on your neck throbbed to your heartbeat, and thought about how badly he wanted to bite it. He had to stop himself from groaning.

"Fuck," he mumbled.

"What are you thinking," you peered at the name on his dogtags," Wolverine?" He swallowed thickly and then he leaned in, closer to you.

"Logan. I think we should go talk somewhere eles," the way he said it was low, deep, and his voice rumbled like thunder.

"[Name]. And I think so, too, Logan." You nearly purred at the way he sounded and tiped back your drink, swallowing it whole as he did mostly the same. He helped you slide off your seat, plucking the cigar from your mouth as he did so and putting it back in his own. He stood and gripped you by your waist tightly, stepping with you towards the exit.

Shockingly, the moment you two were walking down the hallway of the hotel was rather controlled. Nobody was making out, slamming into walls, nobody was moaning. It was painstaking keeping your hands off of Logan.

Constant glances at eachother while murmuring sweet compliments about how pleasing one another looked, teasing words like "Oh I don't mind coming with you," and other phrases.

The moment you slipped into the room, words were no longer small whispers, and instead real, volume reasonably added.

Logan wasn't shy. He'd pulled the money to pay for the drinks in the room of the fridge, even adding a bit extra to get a smokers room. He didn't take his time grabbing a beer from the tiny fridge and slamming the necks against the counter to pop the caps off.

You had already relit the cigar that you were forced to put out in the lobby, leaning your torso out the window, your ass in perfect view. You looked so angelically sinful.

"The moon is so beautiful, tonight." Logan's eyes didn't leave you, and when you turned, he offered you a beer. You took it, pleased. "Thank you."

Logan looked out the window, seeing the full moon, and then back to your eyes. The lighting in the hotel was dim, but he was able to see your face.

"You're beautiful, too." He sat down on the edge of the bed and you footed towards him, slipping one leg at a time around his waist till you straddled him. He took a drink and you extanged the cigar back to him to take your own.

"You know the moon used to have a lover," you said. Logan cocked his head to the side.

"Yeah?" You nodded and hummed.

"Kuekuatsheu. Him and the moon lived in the spirit world and would dance together across the sky, every night." He leaned foward a little putting his elbows on your thighs then looked up at you.

"But there was another spirit, a trickster in love with the moon. He was jealous." You used your free hand to comb your fingers through his hair, over his ear. "So the trickster told Kuekuatsheu that the moon wanted flowers, and that he should come to earth to pick them for her."

"Never trust a guy named trickster," he uttered, kicking his lips. You giggled, lightly and gently.

"Well, people do stupid things sometimes. Kuekuatsheu didn't know that leaving the spirit world meant he could never go back. He's trapped, and every night, when he sees the moon he calls out to her. They can never touch eachother again" you frowned, drawing a line on his face.

"Well, Koo-koo-ka-Choo got screwed." You reached down to his dogtags and fiddled with them.

"Kuekuatsheu. It weans The Wolverine, like your tags." He watched her fingers fiddle with the thin sheets of metal. He put the cigar on the ashtray at the end table and gently grabbed your wrist.

You watched him carefully as he kissed right under your palm.

"You should be scared of me," he said, and kissed up your arm.

"I'm not, I know you won't hurt me in any way I don't want." Thoes words made him still.

"What do you mean?" He said. Another kiss to your elbow.

"I like it rough, Logan." He kissed your shoulder blade.

"I can't be anything but rough," he murmured against your shin. He moving his head to the dip of your breastbone. "That's not what I'm worried about."

"Then what is it?" You brought your beer up to your mouth, taking another sip. He did the same.

"Not being able to stop," he admitted. He looked up at you again and swore the light framing your head from the window was really a halo.

"I can stop you if i wanted. I can take it, please, Logan." He tossed his head back, palming your thigh that was holding onto you. He swallowed, his mouth going dry.

"Say my name again," he put his drink on the nightstand and took yours, doing the same.

"Logan," you hummed, dipping your head down to his throat, gently nibbling at the flesh in the crook. He groaned and lifted you by your ass, putting your pack onto the bed.

"God you gave no fucking idea what's going on in my brain, baby. I could fucking destroy you," leaned ontop of you, supporting his weight on his elbows and knees. One knee was between your legs and he pushed it between your thighs.

"I could devour you right now." He kissed your collarbones, then up to your neck and bit you in a similar fashion how you did him. "I could ruin you the same way I'm about to ruin this dress."

You only hummed, your arms latching around his neck. What suddenly shocked you was the clean sound of metal, three claws extending from between his knuckles on one hand, right next you your face.

You felt your heart speed up and he kissed your cheek, then breathed in your ear. "Don't worry, you know I won't hurt you in a way you wouldn't like," and it sent a shiver down your spine. You almost moaned.

He sat up, bringing his claws to the neckline of your dress and pulling the down, slicing the dress in the respective places, small cat scratches underneath. The shallow cuts, like that from paper, beaded tiny drops of the crimson fluid every few inches. Nothing to heavy.

The cool air hitting your now hot skin made you whine, "Oh God's, logan," you watched, eyes open as he cut your stocking waistline elastic, and once slice above each thigh around the bands of your underwater.

"You don't need these anymore," he said. His claws retracted and he shrugged off his beater. You watched him lift the hem and when you saw skin, you latched your fingers onto it. You dug your fingers into his hips above his belt and jeans and tugged your bottom lip in your teeth. He slid off the bed, leaving your grasp.

You sat up to watch him get on his knees, looking at him with confusion. "What?"

"M' just gonna help these off, don't worry," he said, yanking at the destroyed fabric thag was still on you. Your heels fell off with your irrepreably damaged stocking and gasped at the cold hitting your heated core. He took a deep breath and growled. Literally growled.

He gripped above your knees and dug you to the edge of the bed, burring his face in the middle of your thigh and sunk his teeth into it, you head lolled back in a moan.

"I could just tear you to shreds," he said between bites as he traveled up your legs. He but you so hard, you'd sure you'd bruise in no time.

"Please, Lo," you hummed squirming and opening your knees a little further.

"Come on, baby. Beg for me more." You began to open your mouth, prepared you beg, to scream for him to touch you, but you never got the chance. He dug his teeth into your thigh where it meets your hip and you moaned your back arching and pushing your considerably soaked cunt into his chin.

"Fuck," he hissed, grabbing your hips and pushing them back down. "Stay, be good."

"Please, please, Logan, I need you to touch me," you preened. "Please I need you to touch me,"

"There you go," he hummed and used his hands to open your knees for more than just his head. He adjusted his shoulders between your knees before he lifted one leg above and onto his shoulder.

"Oh," you gasped as he nosed his fave into your country, taking a deep breath. He licked a stripe upwards between your folds and you swore you felt your hips jut, just a tad, and you breathed out a shaky sigh.

"Don't go quiet on me now, baby girl. I got you," he nuzzled his face in deeper. Lolling his mouth open, he did just what he said he'd do, devouring you. He sucked your clit into him mouth and your hand flew into his hair at you moaned, sure it would shake the paper walls of the place.

You grappled and tugged his hair, while also trying to shove his face deeper between your legs. He groaned into your folds, vibrating your whole being, which only made you whine more and forget to swallow. The sensation of his mouth sucked around you made you nearly cry when he prodded a finger into you, not even realizing one of his hands left your leg.

He ate you like a starved man, "Lo, i," you panted. It was hard to think, or even speak,

"You what?" He pulled away for only a second but you shaved his fave back down.

"Don' stop, please. M' so close," you nearly cried. He only laughed into your body and added another finger, his lips placing themselves wrapped around your core again. You felt ever fiver in your being tense and began you hurriedly day pleases like a prayer over and over, wrapping your calf around his neck to dig him in further and practically ride his face.

All it took for that rope to snap was his teeth lightly grazing over your clit and you fell off your elbow that kept you propped, your head flung back into a moan. He didn't stop, though. He lapped up whatever juices fell from your hole and grumbled, almost feraly. You shook beneath him and wiggled, until he slurped up ever drop of arousal and release that was left in you before he pulled his face away.

His chin and parts of his chops glistened with what parts of you he couldn't consume and he gave you a toothy, mischievous smile. "Oh baby, I'm hardly done with you."

You panted, still trying to catch your breath, but your hand in his hair hand long went slack, snaking up your hips to grope yourself.

He stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand, up half his arm and then reahed down to undo his belt the metal clanging, then his zipper, hill his pants fell to his feet. You hadn't even noticed he stepped out of them.

He grabbed you, pushing you further up the bed till he settled on his knees, cock standing proud. Your droopy-lidded eyes widening at the sheer girth.

"Don't worry, baby it will fit, I'll make it" then he grabbed you by your legs pressing them over his shoulders and locking you into a mating press. He ran a thumb over your clit. Then spit into his palm, pumping himself.

"I can't wait, please lo," your eyes locked onto his and your lips parted. He grabbed you by your jaw and tilted his head.

"Open thoes pretty lips more," he demanded and you obliged. He spit into you mouth and then shut it for you, massaging your throat as he whispered for you to swallow. When you did, you opened your mouth, all pretty and he broke. "Fuck it."

He pumped himself a few more times, quickly before grabbing your hips the the point that they dimpled and turned white, sure to bruise, and shoved you onto him, hilted in just a moment. His head lolled back his mouth flew Open in the most feral, gut churning groan, or maybe it was your organs readjusting. You were to busy moaning, writhing and shivering underneath him. "Good girl, that's my girl."

He laid one arm next to your ribs to keep balance and the other one grabbed the bearly breathing cigar. He took a drag, slowly beginning to pump his hips. The tiny, almost exhausted embers in the cigar burned back to life and began to blossom the heat through the bud. He left the cigar in his lips and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing lightly while you were in a trance, softl, gummed moans leaving your blissed face with every thrust. He lifted your head slightly and blew the smoke in your face, letting you breath in the smoke, then squeezed again, and let go. He grabbed the cigar and dropped his head to your neck, bending his supporting elbow. You choked at the way he went impossibly deeper, but he didn't care.

"You got this, baby," he whispered in your ear. He latched his lips onto your vein and began sucking splotches, coloring your neck in reds and purples, occasionally stopping to suck down another portion if cigar. He moved and pressed his lips to yours, exhaling the smoke into your mouth, which you greedily accepted.

He put the cigar back down, sat up, and used one hand to lube his fingers with some of your juices before playing with your clit again, watching you but at the overstimulating feeling. "I got you, hey, it's okay," he muttered. His other hand locked around your throat once more and he used it to pull you up and down on his cock, effectively making you ride him from the bottom

You whined and pleaded, asking him for more, that you were going to come again. He responded with a squeeze. "Then come on me, baby, all over."

Your hands found his thighs and you dug your nails into his legs, trying to ground yourself, " Yes, yes," you chanted. He watched the drool fall down tour cheek and grinned.

Your hips stuttered and your legs jerked, but the hand from your troat flew to one of your knees to hold you in place. "lo, lo, i," your face scrunched and his hand on your core stilled the same way his hips did as he felt your pussy clench onto him. He felt his thighs grow wet as fluid gushed from where you met, and he leaned back and watched.

"Good, baby. What a good girl," he hummed, pulling himself from you. You winced at the feeling of emptiness, but laid there, eye closed as you tried to recover. You listened as he stoked himself, listened to him groan, and opened your eyes just in time to watch him ejaculate all over your stomach. His warm, thick sperm painted your abdomen and even reached your ribs and then he backed up, putting your legs down gently on the bed.

"Just wait right there, don't move, okay?" He took your humming as a good response and scooted off the bed, walking to the bathroom. You listened to the faucet run and listened to him shuffle around. You heard the faucet shut off, and he appeared from the doorway with a washcloth, damp and warm. He came to the edge of the bed and knelt down, gently wiping your thighs and your mound, moving down to gently dap at your folds before he brought it up to wipe the cum from your stomach.

"You did so well," he said careful to avoid the scabbed slices from earlier. When he finished cleaning you, he climbed back onto the bed and fell to your side.

"Stay with me, [Name]. More than just tonight." You curled into his arms and he pulled the blanket over the both of you.

"Okay, Logan."

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Here’s a little Maddie and Tommy drabble 🩶

**********

Tommy was involved in a nasty helicopter crash back in his army days. Broke his leg in 3 places, 4 ribs, and enough bruises to fill an entire medical text book. He spent almost two months in hospital recovering, dealing with more pain he’d never thought humanly possible.

Yet he’d gladly take that pain again over the unbearable pain of the last 2 months after having his heart ripped from his chest.

Correction: from ripping his own heart from his chest.

Because that’s what he did. He ripped his own heart out as an act of self preservation. It felt like the correct choice for all of about 5 minutes.

He stopped the elevator from closing, ready to step back out towards Evan’s apartment. But he stopped. He let the doors close and let the elevator go down.

He turned off the engine after firing up his truck, ready to get back out and go back inside the building.

But he stopped.

He reached home and closed the door behind him then opened it again ready to get back in his truck and drive back to Evan’s.

But he stopped.

Each time that terrified part of his soul reminding him that he and Evan couldn’t be—he’d end up hurt in the long run.

Evan was wonderful. He was kind and thoughtful, sunnier than anybody Tommy had ever met.. but he wore rose tinted glasses when it came to Tommy; didn’t know the real him inside. The dark and traumatised parts of himself that he hadn’t shared, would be too much for someone like Evan to love.

He had to keep reminding himself of that. Reminded himself that Evan deserved better; deserved happiness and light and good, and Tommy? He wasn’t that. He’d never be that.

But it wasn’t easy. Not by a long shot. Despite Tommy’s effort , Evan had managed to burrow his way inside of his heart and settled in his warmth.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d picked up his phone, started worrying a message to him, then deleted it and put his phone back down.

He’d taken to keeping himself distracted. Every time he felt the urge to reach out he’d clean something. Never had his house ever looked so bright and shiny. Eventually he ran out of jobs to do at home and took his need for distraction to work.

He was fine when on the job; controlling his bird or putting out fires when doing ground work was an easy distraction. But the downtime was where Evan’s face would creep into his consciousness.

Their probie was left without much do to because Tommy had taken over the jobs usually reserved the person at the bottom of the ladder.

The helicopters were looking brand new, you could eat food directly from the kitchen floor—hell even the bathrooms hadn’t looked so clean since they’d had them renovated 6 years before.

Eventually he ran out of places to clean and resorted to cleaning the tools of the job. Every hose, every crow bar, even the mechanical tools in the maintenance hangar were getting 5 star treatment.

*

Tommy was in the maintenance hangar working on cleaning a set of wrenches. Every groove got its own special treatment, every scratch getting buffed out. The team had learnt quickly after the break up to leave him be unless it was work related.

“Tommy?” A soft voice came from behind him.

“Lucy, I told you I’m fi-“ he turned to face her only to be surprised to not be looking at Lucy.

“Maddie?” His heart detached itself from his chest wall and lodged itself in his throat. Evan’s sister wouldn’t be here unless..

“Is.. he.. is he okay?” He’d never heard his own voice so scared and meek.

Maddies eyes widened for a moment before she spoke. “Oh. No, no. I.. he’s okay. I mean, he’s not okay, not at all.”

Tommy breathed out a sigh of relief and his shoulders sagged. He clenched his jaw in an attempt to keep his emotions at bay. For a moment he thought she was about to tell him.. No, he couldn’t think about that.

“I’m sorry I probably should have let you know I was coming. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay. Why are you here?”

“Can we go some place to talk?” She asked.

She was looking at him not like she wanted to kill him. Which was honestly throwing him off. He broke her brother’s heart—if he were in her position he’d want to tear him in half.

“I’m not here to fight or yell—really I just want to talk.” She reassured him.

Tommy gestured for her to follow him and he led her to the Harbor kitchen upstairs. It wasn’t as fancy as the one at the 118 but it served its purpose.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee?”

“Sure. Thanks.” She answered and he pour them both a mug from the pot and they took a seat at the dining table.

“How.. how is he?” Tommy asked tentatively.

“Baking.” She said. Tommy raised his brows.

“Baking?” He knew even loved to cook, but he couldn’t remember any point in their six months together him ever baking anything.

“Yeah. I’m running out of space in my pantry for all the loaves he keeps bringing us.” She gave a small laugh.

Seems Evan was trying to distract himself just like Tommy was.

Silence fell upon them for a while until Maddie broke it.

“Did my brother ever tell you about what happened after I had Jee?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think he did.” Tommy was curious as to where Maddie was going with his.

She took a deep breath before speaking. “I didn’t know it at the time but I had Postpartum Thyroidosis. Think post postpartum depression but even worse. I was barely eating, hardly slept, and between Howie’s shifts and mine at the call centre, it became a struggle I didn’t think I’d ever get through. Do you remember the ransomware attack in the city?”

“Yeah. I spent almost a week living here.”

Maddie nodded. “Howie, too. He had to stay at the station house while I was at home with a new baby and no power. I’d quit my job in an attempt to take some of the pressure off but those 5 days alone..“ She blew out a breath. “I was bathing Jee and I was so sleep deprived that I fell asleep. It was only for a moment but.. but she slipped under the water. “

Tommy’s heart clenched at the look on her face as she recalled the memory.

“She was fine, thank god—I had her checked out. But it scared me so much and in the end was the straw that broke the camels back. So, after the hospital discharged her, I packed her things and dropped her off to Bobby at the station. Then I drove up the coast, found a beach and I walked into the ocean.”

Tommy was entirely at a loss for words. He wanted to say something but what do you say to that? Evan hadn’t said a word about it to him, and he understood why—it wasn’t his business to know.

But he remembered something Evan had said once about people he cared about leaving him. How Maddie had left him more than once. Never had Tommy thought this was what he meant.

“I had convinced myself that everyone would be better off without me. Evan, Chimney, Jee.. they’d hurt at first but they’d move on and live great lives.” She took another deep breath. “Thank god I had a moment of hesitation and somehow I found the strength to get back out. But I wasn’t in any state to go back. Eventually I checked myself into a facility in Boston to get help. That’s where I found out I had PPT. I spent the next 6 months in hard core therapy, starting with in patient then eventually moving to outpatient.” She stopped and took a sip of her coffee.

“I’m sorry that you went through that, Maddie. Really.”

“Thank you.” She gave a soft smile.

“But.. I have to ask. Why are you telling me this?”

She put her mug back down on the table. “I spent that entire 6 months convincing myself that Howie hated me for leaving him; for abandoning our daughter. Not to mention the fact that I’d left Evan again. And then one day, a friend I’d met in therapy, had a medical emergency and suddenly I’m looking at Howie as one of the paramedics that showed up. Turns out he’d spent the whole 6 months, and all of his savings, driving across the country with Jee looking for me. See, as much as I hated myself and thought that I wasn’t worth love and care—Howie didn’t. He left his job, his life to find me; to be there for me.”

Tommy began to realise the point that Maddie was making and why she was telling him what happened to her.

“Evan didn’t really say all that much about what happened that night between the two of you, but he did say that you thought you’d get hurt again and ran away.”

Tommy nodded.

“Tommy, Evan and I didn’t exactly grow up with loving and adoring parents to guide us; mostly they were in the periphery of our lives. I ended up married to an abusive man, and Evan.. he ended up with abandonment issue the size of Mars. All he wants, all he’s ever wanted was for someone to love him enough to stay. I was so caught up in what I was feeling that I left him; left everyone and I can’t take that back. The hurt I caused him and Howie and Jee..”

“But that’s different, you were sick—that wasn’t your fault.”

“The PPT wasn’t but the way I handled it was. What I’m saying Tommy, is don’t let my mistake be yours. I ran way when I should have stayed and fought, even when I was sacred.”

Tommy sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair.

“I just.. Evan is.. I’ve never met anybody like him. I’ve never felt the way I feel about him for anybody before, and he’s so new to dating a guy and what happens when-“

“When? You know for sure he’d leave you?”

“Well, no but-“

“You know it took almost a year for Howie and I to actually get together? I was so scared after my ex that I convinced myself that Howie and I wouldn’t work; that id just get hurt again.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“He showed me that I could trust him. More importantly I let him show me. It wasn’t easy, but I eventually got my head out of my ass and realised he wasn’t Doug. He was this wonderful man, who knew what I’d been through; saw the darkest parts of me and still wanted to love me. And if I wanted to be happy I’d have to put my trust in him, even though it still scared me.”

Maddie was right. And he’d known already deep down that he had to put himself out there if he wanted some kind of happiness. But the thought of losing himself to Evan and it not working out? He meant what he’d said to Evan about not being able to stand that happening.

She put her hand gently on his forearm. “My brother loves you. Truly loves you. It’s not some infatuation—believe me I’ve seen what that looks like on him. I’ve never seen him more settled and more himself than since he’s been with you. Does he get ahead of himself sometimes when he’s excited about something? Yeah. And sometimes he needs someone to pull him down to earth. But despite all he’s been through he still puts himself out there; puts his heart out there. And he’s put his heart in you.”

“It terrifies me.” He said. “I mean, being with him.”

“Why?”

“Because I love him too. So much that I don’t know what to do with.” He admitted.

“I feel the same way about Howie. Sometimes I find myself thinking what if I hadn’t taken that leap with him? Then I wouldn’t be married to my soulmate and more importantly we wouldn’t have our beautiful daughter. It’s hard to think good things can happen to you when all you’ve known is trauma, but in reality good things can happen to you. You just have to willing to risk it sometimes. I know I’m biased, but Evan is worth the risk. And he deserves someone who’s willing to take it.”

Evan was worth the risk. He always had been. But Tommy’s fear had taken control. He knew it wasn’t fair on either of them but how could he get out from under it?

“I want to, Maddie, I do. I just don’t know how to.”

“Well I walked into the station and kissed Howie, but something tells me they might not be your style.” She laughed and Tommy gave a small one.

“Okay, let me ask as simple question: Do you want to be with him?”

“Yes.” Tommy replied without even having to think about it.

“And you want a happy future with him?”

“More than anything.”

“Then go get it.” She said plainly. “I can’t guarantee a long beautiful life with my brother, but I can guarantee that neither of you will get to have it if you don’t try at all. So-“ she stood up from her seat. “Finish your shift, then go to him.”

“What if he doesn’t want that?”

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve said? Of course he wants that! He wouldn’t have sold out half the county of baking supplies other wise.” She stepped forward and took his hand. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to my brother. Go and be happy together.”

His resolve weakened and a couple of tears escaped his eyes. He wiped them away and stood up. “Thank you, Maddie.”

“I’m just doing what any big sister would do.”

For two months Tommy had dreaded the end to every shift knowing he’d have to go home to an empty, Evan-less house. And now for the first time in 8 weeks he couldn’t wait for his shift for end.

So he could go to Evan.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Snow Angel

Daemon's Version

I'll angel in the snow until I'm worthy but if it kills me, I tried.

Gwyane's Version ❄ Daemon's Version ❄ Aegon's Version ❄ Aemond's Version ❄ Jacaerys' Version ❄ Cregan's Version ❄ Criston's Version

Daemon Targaryen x Snow!Reader | 700< | cw: fem!reader, reader is Lord Rickon Stark's bastard daughter, canon divergence, angst, violence, blood, war, death, typos, etc.

A/N: renee rapp my beloved

Though you were his wife by law, you were not by heart.

It did not hurt you, at least not anymore. You understood your place. You understood your duty; your duty was to your house, to your family, to him.

This was how you found yourself in the crosshairs of peril.

Daemon had been lost for days on end. He'd not given word ever since his proclamation to seize Harrenhal for the Queen— for his niece, his beloved niece. You knew why he was so eager to act. He so badly wanted to win Rhaenyra's favor.

They had not seen eye to eye lately, and one could say it was your fault. You were getting in the middle of their relationship, you, his wife. It felt as though there was not a soul in Westeros who did not know of their relations, and yet even in that blatant shame, not once did you ever bring it up to your husband.

Not once.

Why?

Because he saved you when you were wed. You had been promised to an old lord known to be a wife beater. You were told that it was the best match you would ever get, but then you caught the interest of the prince of Dragonstone, even if for a fleeting moment.

You thought that what you had was akin to desire, if not love, but it seems he only married you to spite someone that truly stoked such a thing within him. And now, you were sent to the North to remind your half brother of House Stark's pledge to that person, to Queen Rhaenyra. Your kin did not take kindly to that. But it was not Cregan that found offence in your appearance, but his men, some five of them.

Daemon dreams about this in Harrenhal. He dreams of five direwolves pulling you apart, limb from limb. He wakes up in a cold sweat because of it. When he rouses with word that a raven came telling of the conditions of his wife, he did not need to read its contents to be inspired to saddle Caraxes.

He makes his dragon land inside Winterfell and demands, "WHERE IS MY WIFE?!"

Cregan runs and meets him once he dismounted, leading him to your room.

His expression falls when he sees you. You were badly cut and beaten. You looked like you were ready to greet the Stranger. He grabs Cregan by his furs and hisses, "where are the men that did this?"

"I've sent them to the Wall," Stark raises a hand, indicating he did not want to fight.

"The Wall?" he shoves him away, "their heads should be on a sp-"

"They are my men. I will do with them as-"

"They outnumbered and ambushed my wife! You think they deserve the honor of keeping their heads?!"

Daemon was about to draw Dark Sister, until he heard a soft voice call his name. He turns to you, catching the way you stirred, and immediately comes to your side.

You weakly reach out a hand and he takes it. He is warm, a complete opposite to you. You feel lethargic but you manage to pull your lips into a semblance of a smile. You whisper, "you've come."

Your husband stares at you. He clutches your hand in both of his.

You rub his skin with your thumb.

He shakes his head, "I will exact your injuries of your attackers. They will regret the day they left their mothers' cunts."

You no longer have the energy to respond. You weakly smile at him before closing your eyes.

He stays with you until you fall asleep. He stay with you until he is told your eyes would no longer open again. He had to be subdued before he killed the maester that announced the news.

Cregan could do little to stop the prince and Caraxes from flying off to the Wall. He all but threatened to burn the whole of it down if your attackers did not come forth. And when they do, Daemon tells them to fight him or be fed to his dragon.

And so the fools attacked him, and were slain, and were fed to his dragon anyway. He flies back to Harrenhal after, and you haunt him in his dreams.

[utterlyotterlyx]

Starstruck

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Azriel had never wished upon a star, and after finding you, he wished he had done it sooner.

Warnings - FLUFFFFFFF, a touch of angst and sadness

There were thirteen stars that streaked across the skies during Starfall, Azriel had resound himself to noting each one as they made their journey across the same canvas each year, watching how they danced between one another and entranced the city with their show.

He sometimes wondered just how perfect someone had to be in order to be one of them, to shine so brightly and to be so adored that a whole city would wait an entire year to watch them for just a fleeting moment.

After watching for so long, Azriel knew each of them in his own special way, but he had always been particularly drawn to the singular star that always drifted to the back of the colony, like it was trying to stay for just a moment longer, and he could have sworn that he felt it watching him on more than one occasion, even when it twinkled idly in the sky and pulsed with pearlescent light.

One particular Starfall, Azriel gave in to his infantile wonder that perhaps wishing on a star would make all of his dreams come true, dreams that he had never spoken of to anyone. As silly as it felt, Azriel forced himself to close his eyes just as the stars began their dance; he inhaled deeply and wished, what for he'd never tell, but he did it.

In the days that followed, Azriel felt that tiny spark of hope evaporate within him, such showed in his tendrils of shadow who were feeling a little heavier than usual, less mischievous too. Cassian had noticed it, it was only small really and he was surprised that it was him who had caught it, but he knew Azriel better than anyone, he'd notice any slight change.

"What's wrong?" Azriel's chest was glistening in the last dwindling glance of sunlight, rising and falling rapidly as he worked to slow his breathing from his latest training session with Cassian.

Azriel spared Cassian a side-long glance and moved to unwrap his knuckles, the bandages winding onto the ground, "Nothing," he cast his eyes down to his knuckles, bruised and bloody and also throbbing from the impact of Cassian's abdomen, the feeling didn't do much to tempt his thoughts.

"Bullshit," Cassian cursed softly, "You're you but not. Tell me what's going on Az."

Sighing, slightly agitated, Azriel turned to his brother, noticing the stars leaking in from the distance, "I want my mate. I want what you and Nesta have, and Feyre and Rhys. I thought that maybe it was my turn next," his heart stung with the knowing of Lucien and Elain's accepted mating bond, he glanced behind Cassian, seeking comfort in something other-worldly, "I wished it."

Azriel hadn't meant to make Cassian feel guilty, he was glad that Cassian had found his mate, someone to love for the rest of his days., but it didn't stop him from feeling more alone than he had ever felt in his life.

The raw emotion in his voice caused Cassian to stand speechless before him, "I'm going to go for a walk, clear my head."

Without another word, Azriel shrugged his shirt over his head and took off into the skies, unable to look back at the pained expression on Cassian's face. Part of him was ashamed for his feelings, he was Spymaster of the Night Court, anyone who loved him would be in constant danger, perhaps that was why he hadn't been gifted with a soul-bound other.

Landing on the cobbled streets of Velaris, Azriel began trapsing through the city with his head hung low, not particularly paying attention to anything until his shadows coiled around his arms and tugged at him. The Shadowsinger scoffed, pushing himself onward and choosing to ignore his companions, only barking at them when they swam over his face and restricted his vision; Azriel swatted at them, "What?"

One particular shadow, the one most prone to dancing and becoming lost in someone's hair, hovered before his eyes, waltzing into the night-kissed air and forcing Azriel to focus. He hadn't realised how far he'd walked until he took a moment to scan the area, he had wandered all the way down to the Sidra, so much being clear from the bubbling drifting from the riverbank as the water sang over the rocks.

Then he heard something that made his heart skip, a soft hum, no louder than a hummingbird, winding down the cobbled path to meet his ears. It was sweet and calm, full of life and serenity, and he couldn't stop himself from following it.

His shadows shivered with each step, each one becoming more active with every metre forward they were carried until they saw you, you were kneeling in the water that perfectly reflected the sky, fingers dipping beneath the surface whilst it swam by you. Your hair was unbound and kissing the surface in a way that sent small ripples through it whenever they would collide.

Azriel stood on the bank and watched you, not being able to place you in his mind, he listened to your song, unwilling to stop his shadows from drawing themselves toward it. Only when those tendrils of darkness grazed against your skin did the song halt, it was replaced by a soft giggle, one that could have made the darkness part to allow in the sun if it wished it.

"Can I help you?" The shadows shuddered at your question, convicted to dancing to the sound of your melodic tone, coiling around the finger you had raised to your eyes to inspect them closer, "How peculiar."

The drenched skirt of your pale blue dress pooled at your feet when you stood, but you didn't take your eyes off of the shadows. And, as if realising how potentially rude they were being, Azriel moved to intervene, to beckon them back to his side, "I'm sorry, they don't seem to want to listen to me today."

Turning to face him, Azriel lost every thought in his mind, the only one lingering in his consciousness being that you were easily the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, "It's alright, I don't mind," you told him with a smile as wide as the Sidra. His shadows continued to dance around you, slithering into every gap possible to just be as close as they could, "Who are you?"

Azriel was slightly taken back by the question, everyone knew who he was, and he didn't mean to feel egotistical when he thought that, most people were afraid of him, and everyone in the city certainly knew who he was. "I'm Azriel," he attempted to call back his shadows but they refused to leave you, he had half a mind to waltz right up to you and pluck them from your skin, but he stayed put, "Who are you?"

"Y/N." Beautiful.

"I haven't seen you here before."

The moon reflected off the surface of the Sidra,

Humming softly, you glanced about with a furrowed brow, like you were trying to find something familiar until your eyes dragged upward and settled on the sky, "And where is here?"

"Velaris. The City of Starlight."

"Starlight," your voice drifted, eyes unwavering in their upward gaze, "How pretty."

Perhaps Azriel should have been cautious of you, the beautiful thing with the long hair and voice as tempting as a siren's, but he wasn't, not even a little bit. If anything, Azriel had found a comfort within you despite only being in your presence for a mere few moments.

After a few moments, your wandering eyes returned to earth and you moved past him, up toward the cobbled path he had strayed from to find you, "Can I walk you home?"

Turning on the balls of your feet, you grinned at him and continued backward, "I'll be fine."

Azriel took a single step forward, "Will I see you again?"

"If you wish it," you told him with a knowing smirk, one that he didn't recognise, before turning from him and disappearing into the night, leaving Azriel wondering just exactly who you were to be able to cause his shadows continue to whisper your name into the darkness.

The next time Azriel saw you was in the Palace of Threads and Jewels, he had only caught a glimpse of you, but your scent of jasmine and pine lingered where you once stood. Azriel excused himself away from Nesta and Feyre, both of who glanced to his hurried form as he retreated from them.

Rounding a corner, he found you inspecting a bouquet of night lilies, your fingers gliding across the velvety petals with a genteel smile on your lips, one that widened when his shadows curled around your ankles, "Hello again," you called to them endearingly, beckoning them up to your fingers where they happily rested whilst you brushed the tip of your nose again them.

Azriel felt his heart clench at the action, and he only pulled himself from his entranced state when you graced him with your attention, "Hello to you too, Azriel," your hands were folded neatly behind your back, his shadows now resting on your shoulders.

"Hello," he took a step forward, and then he noticed just how small you were in comparison to him by the way you craned your neck up to look at him, "I knew I'd see you again."

A grin formed on your lips, "Did you wish it?"

"Perhaps,” Azriel folded his arms across his chest and drank you in, the pinned back hair and the baby whips that floated over your forehead, the white dress that hugged you in all of the perfect ways, and those bright doe eyes tinged with a touch of mischief.

"Then consider your wish granted,” the heel of your shoe clicked against the floor, the aroma of fresh roses and foliage filling the air, and you cocked your head at him slightly as if appreciating his beauty, “How have you been?”

In all honesty, Azriel had been feeling much better since that night he left Cassian after training, and that was because of you. Azriel couldn’t stop thinking about you, how lost you seemed but also not afraid, how gentle you seemed, and your voice, he couldn’t get it out of his head. Without wanting to admit it, Azriel had been looking for you, lazily, but with a hope he thought he had lost. And now there you stood, as pretty at the petals that drifted along the floor.

“I’ve been alright,” he leaned against the pillar of the stop, angling his body into you. It had been an age since someone had asked how he was, especially in the way that you asked, with genuine intrigue and care. “How have you been?”

Smiling, you answered, “I’ve been good,” you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and giggled softly as a shadow flowed through your hair.

“I’d like to get to know you,” he said with gentle conviction and you couldn’t help but blush, enjoying the sight of those soft eyes and rough exterior clad in black pants and a matching long sleeved cotton shirt.. “If you’d let me?”

“I wouldn’t say no,” you shrugged and took a step forward, close enough to scent the cedar on his clothes, “What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing,” Azriel internally cursed himself for responding so fast, showing his eagerness to spent more than a moment under the moon with you.

With a knowing smirk you huffed out a laugh, “Well, walk with me? I want to explore a little.”

Not needing another word, Azriel pushed himself from the beam and stepped aside for you to slip past him, slowly meandering through the market and observing everything that you could.

“Where is it that you live?” Azriel asked, happy to simply watch you scan the shelves and touch anything that looked soft.

Without looking back, you answered his question with a voice as warm as summer rain, “A little cabin by the streams,” the cotton of your bag brushed against your skirt as you swayed from side to side, craning your head and standing on your tiptoes to glance at the top shelves.

Azriel knew the place, he had always been drawn to it, the white window frames that turned yellow in the golden light that poured from insane, the thatched roof that was almost plaited in the finest of knots, and the tiny garden erected toward the back facing the forest where an array of flowers of all breeds bloomed and basked.

“And you? Where do you live?”

You led Azriel down the cobbled streets, picking up trinkets and admiring their beauty before placing them back on the shelves, “I live in the House of Wind,” from your furrowed brow, he knew that you didn’t know of it; Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders and turned you gently, reaching beneath your chin to angle your head upward, “Up there.”

“It looks beautiful,” you hummed, “You’re very lucky.”

“Yes, I am,” you missed how he looked to you when he spoke, captured by a gleaming stone resting on a plush cushion.

Closing the gap, you took the stone in your hand, resting it in your palm and letting the chain sway against your wrist, “It’s so beautiful,” you spoke in a tone a hush above a whisper, the rustle of a curtain begged your focus and you glanced up to see an elderly woman approaching you.

“A beautiful stone for a beautiful lady,” her voice rasped, but her kind eyes were fixated upon you, smiling in their own way.

“How much?” Azriel asked, appearing behind you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Azriel, no. It’s too much,” you protested, it was an ornately beautiful jewel, a white stone that reflected against the cloth of the ceiling that billowed in the breeze, “I can’t.”

Azriel, nodding his silent message to the shopkeeper, took the chain in his marred fingers and draped it around your neck, clasping it at the back and watching as your fingers reached to brush against it, “It was made for you.”

“Thank you,” you turned around to face him, and it took every ounce of willpower to not brush his fingers against your cheek.

The dropping sun cast its glow over your face, and Azriel gasped slightly, the sun turning your eyes molten and pristine, and felt the golden thread within him thrum into place. For a moment, the world seemed clearer, his senses heightened and your scent seeped into the foundations of his being.

From the look on your face, you had also felt it, your lips had parted slightly and your eyes were wide and glistening, “It’s you,” he was in disbelief, but his heart sang when you rested a hand over his heart, “You’re my mate.”

A gentle nod confirmed it, and Azriel couldn’t stop his hand this time from brushing against your cheek, his thumb dragging over your skin, “Yes.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever find you,” he whispered, “You’re real?”

“I’m real,” you entwined your fingers with his and brought them to your lips, kissing the marred flesh of his knuckles, “I’m here.”

Azriel struggled accepting that someone as perfect as you had been chosen to be his.

He didn’t want to rush you into anything, he wanted you to be comfortable, but he’d be lying if he said that every single part of him wasn’t irrevocably obsessed with you.

But when you met his family for the first time, and held Nyx and rocked him to sleep, did Azriel know that there was no one more made for him than you. Nesta and Feyre adored you from the moment they laid eyes on your sweet smile and large eyes, they had practically whisked you away to a separate sofa to probe and gossip with you. After you had spoken to Cassian and Rhys, his brothers moved to him with wide smiles, telling him that you were perfect.

Then there was Nyx who cried every time someone tried to take him from you, his nuzzled into your side, resting his head against your chest as he slept.

In the months that followed, his adoration for you only grew, and the night you had accepted the bond had been the most magical moment of his life. And not long after, he made you his wife in the most ornately warm ceremony the city had ever seen.

Each day was full of love and laughter, he moved into the cabin with you, and enjoyed every single moment of his life knowing that you were the one waiting for him at the end of the day.

Starfall had rolled around again, reminding Azriel that it was the same night a year ago that caused him to wish for you. He stood with you on that balcony, a stones throw away from the rest of his, and now your, family as the skies opened and the stars began their descent.

“I’ve never seen it like this before,” you uttered, hands resting on his forearms that were wrapped around your waist.

The stars soared, but their usual course was disrupted by their decision to fly toward the balcony. They hovered before you and Azriel and he felt your body leave his embrace, your fingers outstretched to float between the stars that waltzed around your body, “I’ve missed you too,” you told them, skin glittering with their kiss.

Bewildered, Azriel watched you have a conversation with the stars that painted the sky each night. Frowning, he counted the stars, noticing each one as the ones he knew and named, the same ones he created stories and lives for, to only find that one was missing, the last one who always lingered. Then his eyes moved to you and he wondered how he hadn’t realised it before.

The last star was you.

It made sense, you had always shone so brightly in comparison to others. Everyone had always felt settled around you, and Azriel had just thought that it was your serenity that caused it, but no, it was because you were a star.

“You’re a star,” that’s why you didn’t know where you were that night he had found you, it’s because you had fallen from the sky and landed his city, his home.

Smirking slightly, you walked into his open arms, sighing as the stars moved around you, “I prefer to say a wish come true.”

Azriel, chuckling at your words, hooked a finger beneath your chin and pulled your eyes upward, his breath fanned over your face. “If I’d have known then I would have wished for you a lot sooner.”

Authors Note

Just a little one from me 😚