#DNI if you value your life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brairslair · 4 months ago

Text

just thinking abt relationship dynamics with the op boys <33

EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors dni)

a/n: currently have one piece brain rot and it is consuming me so here’s this! fem!reader and very suggestive + mentions sex, but no actual smut. NOT PROOFREAD 🙏🏻

don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow to support my work! it always makes me day mwah

“of course i’m serious”

luffy:

in usual luffy fashion, one of your very first interactions ends with him trying to convince you to join his pirate crew

at first you’re hesitant, rightfully so, having just met the guy

however, you’re quickly persuaded by his happy-go-lucky personality and loyalty to his crew

after finally joining the crew yourself, your relationship with luffy gradually melts from just being friendly crew mates to being so close that you would put your life on the line for him at a moment’s notice

he seems to have that effect on people

while you grow close with all of the strawhats, your relationship with luffy is different

within a few months you already feel like you’ve known him your entire life

the two of you never have a dull moment together

while you love to entertain his antics, you also know when to stay level headed and keep him grounded

and while your work ethic is always valued on the ship, luffy can always get you to relax and have a good laugh when you need a break

eventually the two of you start to literally finish each other’s sentences, and it freaks everyone else out every time

you balance each other out perfectly

the two of you can talk and laugh for hours and not get tired of each other’s company

definitely tries to teach you a little portuguese but does not have the patience

you guys have friendship bracelets and he never takes his off

over the years, your relationship begins to grow from best friends to something more

you notice the shift far before luffy does

luffy picks up on little changes, like the weird tingly feeling he gets in his stomach when he makes you laugh

he doesn’t really think much of it though and brushes it off

probably assumes he’s just hungry…

in fact, luffy probably doesn’t really comprehend his feelings until someone spells it out for him, but in his head it doesn’t really change anything

you’ve always been his go to, and that won’t change now

the shift from platonic to romantic is gradual, natural, and if you ask robin, entirely inevitable

(she predicted this from the very beginning when the crew met you in your hometown)

he’s confident and honest with you in sharing the way he feels once he comes to the realization, and you allow him the same courtesy

he doesn’t feel any reason to hide or be embarrassed about his feelings

to him, being your boyfriend just means being your best friend except better because you get to hold hands and kiss and stuff

nothing is awkward when you start dating

it just feels right

he’s always been a very touchy person, even before you started dating

now that you’re together though, he loves cuddling

sleeping just isn’t as comfy anymore if he isn’t laying on you

definitely bites you sometimes and he says it’s because you’re so awesome that he doesn’t know what else to do with himself

he holds your hand all the time and likes to swing them back and forth when you walk together

he also likes to carry you on his shoulders because it makes you laugh

he doesn’t really use pet names for you often, if at all, but he really likes it when you use them for him

will, however, give you absolutely ridiculous nicknames that he finds cute

he has obviously never had a girlfriend before you

he wasn’t really concerned with romance or sex at all actually until you

you definitely have to teach him a lot

like what you’d like to do on dates

and how to kiss

luffy didn’t really understand the appeal of kissing, but you seemed to want to do it so he figured he’d give it a try

after kissing you for the first time he can’t get enough

definitely understands now

a super messy kisser (ofc)

gets giddy when you smile or laugh into his kisses

he smiles into your kisses a lot himself because he’s just so happy to be with you

you also have to teach him about the concept of pda and public etiquette, because otherwise he just does not care and will literally start making out with you in front of the entire crew simply because he wants to kiss you

sex is of course also very new to luffy, and like kissing, he does not understand the appeal until you test the waters with him and his mind is blown

he didn’t realize it would be so fun

it’s almost always sloppy, but he’s very attentive to your requests and desires

he takes in everything you teach him and improves upon it, because he loves making you happy more than anything

kind of a little shit sometimes though because he definitely overstimulates you without even realizing it

never intentionally mean though, but can be a huge tease entirely by accident

loves giving you pretty things he finds like rocks, shells, and any cool trinkets he finds laying around

he just gets so excited to share everything with you, and you’re always the first person he wants to talk to about everything

even if it seems as simple as finding a cool rock

other than sprinkling in more couple-y things, your relationship dynamic really does remain the same as it had always been, best friends

the two of you never take life too seriously, and just allow yourselves to enjoy each other’s company

luffy may not be the most “romantic” boyfriend in a traditional sense, but he will do absolutely anything to see you happy and safe, and you the same for him

he doesn’t need to do any grand gestures to give you butterflies in your stomach

you are each other’s safe space

the two of you said the L word to each other well before you became a couple, but the first time he says it romantically is when you personally cook a three course meal and bake him his favorite sweets to celebrate his birthday

saying those words to each other feels so natural that you almost don’t realize you hadn’t been saying it this whole time until now

will willingly share his food with you if you ask, which is genuinely mind blowing to everyone including yourself

if he proposes to you it will be super out of the blue and unplanned, completely catching you off guard

the two of you could just be talking, having a normal conversation, maybe getting some work done around the ship, when all of a sudden he’s just like

“hey, do you wanna get married?”

probably heard sanji talking about weddings or something and was like, oh! we’re in love, we should get married too!

obviously you can’t legally get married being pirates trying to slip under marine radar, so luffy has franky make you both simple rings out of pieces of sea glass you picked out

the rings have each other’s initials engraved into them

after that, the two of you consider yourselves married and the rest of the crew follows suit

not much changes in your relationship other than your titles

he’ll proudly tell people you’re his wife if you do something cool in a fight or someone asks about you or something

but even without a proposal or a ring, the two of you were always going to be forever

zoro:

when you first meet zoro, you see him as cocky, brazen, and extremely annoying

the two of you clash almost immediately

after luffy somehow manages to convince you to join the crew, the close proximity only makes it worse

the two of you are constantly at each other’s throats, taking any opportunity to push each other’s buttons

nami often jokes that “the two of you bicker like an old married couple”, which does not go over well with either of you

for months the two of you are rivals, making everything a competition to see who’s better than the other

however, after a while you begin to see zoro’s true colors through the cracks

his dedication to his craft, the respect he has for luffy, the kindness he tries to mask beneath a hardened exterior, and his absolute undying loyalty

it makes you begin to wonder why you began to dislike him in the first place

over time, your bickering becomes less venomous and more playful, bantering back and forth for the fun of it

you pick up new habits like sparring with zoro every day, telling him it’s because “the only way to beat your rival is to know his weaknesses”

or zoro waking you up at the crack of dawn to do laps around the deck because he heard you say you weren’t a morning person once, except he brings you coffee exactly the way you like it, every time

eventually your relationship snowballs into friendship

the two of you still bicker and banter, butting heads every once in a while

but now you also laugh at each other’s jokes

and sit together in comfortable silence just to be in each other’s presence

and eventually, you get to the point where the two of you can share your deepest, darkest secrets, fears, and desires, that nobody else is allowed to hear

he makes you feel safe, and you know you are with him

without even realizing it, your relationship starts sinking into something much deeper than friendship

whenever you’re off the ship, zoro is almost always at your side, practically attached to you, making sure you’re never in harms way

the two of you can basically read each other’s minds, seemingly able to communicate without a single word shared between you

neither of you are even conscious of your feelings for one another until nami catches the two of you sound asleep on the desk with your head resting in zoro’s lap and runs to tell usopp

when you do begin to realize how you feel, neither of you bring it up, too afraid to ruin what you already have

but you don’t need to

your bodies and minds are practically interlinked, bending at each other’s will

your relationship stays mostly the same, only gradually and organically becoming closer

running errands together on new islands, napping together more often than you do apart, sitting next to each other during meals, etc

eventually your mutual feelings become almost unbearable, and you finally cross the line between friends and lovers

you would probably have to be the one to make the first move, because not only is zoro insanely stubborm, but he’s also uncharacteristically easily flustered

your first kiss feels like pieces clicking into place, or feeling the warmth of the sun in the dead of winter

as cheesy as it sounds, it feels like home

there’s no conversation about feelings, or asking you to be his girlfriend, you just are

like all the seasons of your relationship, the shift is slow, and goes unnoticed for a while by most of your crew mates

robin, nami, and usopp are the first to notice, seeing you fall asleep against his chest instead of his lap, or seeing you whispering secret conversations up in the crows nest when you think the others are asleep

eventually everyone is made aware of your relationship when you challenge zoro to a drinking game at a party, ending with you getting drunk off your ass and kissing him before immediately passing out against his shoulder

zoro is not a fan of pda, so for the most part, your relationship remains the same around the crew and on islands

still bickering and making up stupid competitions to challenge yourselves, but now theres a softer, more intimate side to your relationship

he will occasionally do passive agressieve little things to rub your relationship in sanji’s face though if he’s flirting with you too much for his liking

like whispering something dirty in your ear to make you get all flustered, or wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you into the dining room

he partly does it to get a rise out of sanji, sure, but mostly because he loves the reaction it gets out of you

the bond you share is clearly special, and thats something that everyone can see

however, your relationship is much different when you’re alone

it’s much more domestic

quieter

you know each other like the back of your hands at this point, so sometimes theres no need for words

the silence is soothing

other times, the two of you can talk for hours

he’ll gladly listen to you ramble on about anything and everything thats on your mind if you want to

and he’ll hang onto every word

he’s also a bit more touchy and vocal in private

he’ll massage your sore muscles after a particularly tough sparring session

or rub his thumb across your hip where he holds you against his chest, mumbling compliments into your hair

he’s another man who never really thought about relationships until you came along, so he’s quite inexperienced in a lot of areas

he picks up quickly and adapts, following the signals that your body sends him and adjusting accordingly

sex with him is either extremely intimate and gentle, or he’s being a total pain in the ass and teasing the shit out of you

either way, he’s hyper aware of your every move and action

his main objective is always to please you, because he quite literally would do anything for you

in his eyes you deserve the world handed to you on a silver platter, and he wants to be the one holding the plate

neither of you need to hear the words to know that you love each other irrevocably

you can see it in every move that he makes, and he can hear it in the beating of your heart

when the words are shared it’s in the hushed privacy that only you will ever share, or after a particularly life threatening battle

zoro knows that he’s yours forever like he knows he needs oxygen to breathe, but he’s also not a sappy romantic like the cook

he would bring up the idea of marriage in casual conversation to see where your head is at

the two of you have extremely healthy communication, always 100% honest with each other

if you don’t like the idea of marriage he would drop the subject and never bring it up again, content to just be with you

but if you do like the idea of getting married, he would propose right then (very informally)

“why don’t we get married then?”

“are you serious?”

“of course i’m serious. let’s get married.”

the two of you would pick out simple wedding bands on the next island you docked at, stealing away for the day to allow yourselves to bask in your new beginning

the rest of the crew would also totally freak out at dinner when they see the sparkling new jewelry adorning your fingers

sanji:

as we all know, sanji is a lover of women

he’s also a hopeless romantic

from the moment you join the crew, he’s completely head over heels

he thinks you are absolutely the most stunning woman he’s ever laid eyes on in his life

while he dotes on you, you don’t really pay him any mind at all at first

you see the way he treats other women, and you know he’s simply a flirt by nature, so why would it be any different when it’s aimed towards you?

and it first, it’s really not that much different

he just finds you mesmerizing, but it’s nothing more than an infatuation

but as some time goes by and he and the rest of crew get to know you, it turns into something more

you become friends first, quickly forming a strong bond

you keep him company while he cooks, allowing him to teach you different techniques and recipes

you listen to him talk about his dreams, and he returns the favor, judgement free

sanji quickly realizes he’s fallen for you

like for real

the feeling scares him at first, never having felt so many intense emotions about one person before

but the fear is quickly overcome by determination to devote himself to you in every way

he takes care of your every need, defends your honor when necessary, and is always there for you when you need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on

you don’t catch onto your feelings until months after sanji pinpointed his, long after you had already plummeted far away from feelings that could be considered platonic

you make the first move, and neither of you hesitate to leap right into it

he set’s up dates for the two of you frequently

compliments you up and down, every word sincere

he gets super flustered and giddy when you compliment his cooking

never forgets an anniversary, valentines day, or your birthday, and always goes all out to make sure it’s extra special for you

sanji isn’t inexperienced per-se, but he also hasn’t been with many women

however, he has a talent for this sort of thing, and his movements are smooth and fluid, never unsure

he kisses you like a man starved, gentle at first, quickly becoming more passionate and hungry because you’re absolutely irresistible

he’s handles you the same way in the bedroom

gentle and passionate

sanji always finds a way to make sex super romantic

he likes to hold your hand, and give you kisses, and tell you how much he loves you

he has a CD burned with a bunch of super sweet love songs, and it doubles as a slow dance playlist and a sex playlist

after you become official, it’s no secret to the crew

sanji is practically shouting it from the rooftops

he’s even more over the top than before, waiting on you hand and foot

loves holding you, and intertwining your fingers when the two of you go looking for ingredients on whatever island you’re docked at

loves hugs and cuddles obviously

always holds doors open for you, pulls out your chair, offers you his coat, and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman

also uses so many pet names for you that you can’t even keep track of them all

still a massive flirt even though you’re already his, and reaffirm that truth every single day

your relationship is very flirty in general

he can dish it out way better than he can take it

he gets flustered sooooo easily when you give him a taste of his own medicine

even though he’s quite eccentric in the way he loves you, he can also be really soft when the moment’s right

the two of you can giggle about stupid hypotheticals one second and be having a deep philosophical conversation the next

sanji tells you he loves you for the first time within like the first 3 weeks of you dating

and he means it 100% too

he absolutely worships you and thinks he must have been a saint in a past life to be able to deserve you reciprocating his feelings

sanji’s known since the very beginning that he was going to marry you some day

as romantic as he is, he cooks you a wonderful meal, just for the two of you

he lights up the place with dozens of candles and rose petals scattered everywhere

and by some miracle he summons the will power to get through dinner with you, before finally beginning his long speech, pouring out all of his love for you like poetry

he kneels on one knee before you, and the ring is barley slipped onto your finger before he has your back pressed against the kitchen counter

oops!

the two of you throw a little ceremony with the crew on the next island you dock at, with vows and a dress and everything

sanji refused to let you settle for anything less than perfect, because you deserved to have a real wedding

his vows are gut wrenchingly gorgeous btw

cries when he sees you walking down the aisle

he makes sure to call you “my wife” as much as humanly possible, and kisses your ring all the time

usopp:

you and usopp became friends pretty much the second you joined the crew

you both have such a similar sense of humor, and you love listening to his ridiculous stories

he lovessss gossiping with you and it’s your favorite pastime

and of course you help him craft his weapons

the two of you are basically inseperable

you do absolutely everything together

you help each other get through your day to day tasks, talking and joking your way through them

you watch him practice his aim and cheer him on

you like laying down together and looking at the shapes the clouds make

you sit next to each other at meals most of the time so that you can gossip with your eyes

but sometimes if you sit across from each other you have staring contests

you don’t know when or how it happened, but somewhere over the years you and usopp fell desperately in love with each other

everyone knows how you feel for each other, hell even you know how usopp feels about you, but he’s completely oblivious to it all

the only reason you haven’t made a move yet is because nami made a bet with you to see how long it takes him to fess up, and neither of you are allowed to “interfere”

he finally confesses to you one night after a long celebration for another strawhat victory

you always make fun of him for being such a lightweight, but tonight it really shows

completely wasted after only two shots, he finally professes his love for you

nami won the bet, but you honestly couldn’t care less

the next day he’s probably super embarrassed, but once you tell him you feel the same way he’s SO relieved

he gets flustered so easily it’s a little humorous

you barely even have to do anything to make him a blushing stuttering mess

most of the time you do it by accident

he has a staring problem because everything you do is so mesmerizing to him

you take your relationship fairly slow

he gets insanely flustered every time you hold his hand

he LOVES cuddling but he has to hide his face against you because he gets so dazed just by being so close to you

the first time you kissed him he almost passed out

he cannot believe you actually want to be with him

once he’s more comfortable with the concept that you really do want him as much as he wants you, he kisses you all the time

your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your knuckles, and most importantly, your lips

his kisses are gentle and cautious at first, growing more confident the longer you’re together, but still always soft

the crew thinks you’re the cutest couple ever, sometimes disgustingly so

usopp is extremely inexperienced, despite the stories he tells that suggest otherwise, so you make sure to let him set the pace

when he’s ready to take the relationship a step further, he’s a bit clumsy at first, but eager to learn

talks a big game, but when it comes down to it he always “lets you” take the lead

loves bragging about you and telling people that you’re his girlfriend

he’s just so proud to be with you

literally thinks you’re the coolest person ever

you guys are still best friends even though you’re also so much more than that

you still gossip, and do your work together, and make ridiculous jokes, and are there for each other no matter what

if marriage is something you want, you would have to hint at it heavy

because he is not going to come up with the idea to propose otherwise

not because he doesn’t want to marry you, but simply because he’s never even thought about marriage like that before

it take him weeks to work up the courage to finally propose, but he would do it all “the right way” because you deserve a real proposal

takes you out on the deck to watch the sunset and then he’s down on one knee with a ring box in hand

gets teary eyed asking you to marry him, and cries happy tears with you when you say yes

you would have a simple ceremony on the ship, just vows, rings, and a kiss, and just like that, you’re husband and wife

chopper would 100% be the ring bearer and nami would be the flower girl

brags about you, and makes sure to include you in all of his stories

no matter how long you guys have been together, his wild imagination never gets old

law:

you were on the brink of death when law found you, taking you onto the polar tang to perform a life saving operation

you could barely remember what even caused the injuries in the first place by the time you woke up, but you had never been more grateful in your entire life

you owed you’re life to him

so you insisted on joining his crew, promising to repay him for saving your life, even though he assured you it wasn’t necessary

you stayed anyways of course

your relationship started out strictly professional

he was the captain, and you were the crewmate

you were friendly with each other of course, but that was the extent of it

over time, you grew closer

you started getting tasked with him with his personal tasks while he worked, allowing the two of you to spend a lot of time in each other’s company

eventually your simple conversations became staying for hours after all the work had been completed just so that you could continue talking

you bonded over similar interests and shared knowledge, realizing you had more in common than you initially thought

after that the years seemed to fly by, blossoming friendship getting stronger until you could practically read each other’s thoughts, and then one day it all became much bigger than either of you had anticipated

you have both somehow managed to fall in love with each other, and neither of you dared to speak a word of it to anyone, even yourselves

you’re too scared of being rejected and humiliated, and law is absolutely terrified of being in love at all

he has absolutely no idea how to handle his feelings, so instead he bottles them up and stores them away in the hopes that they’ll just vanish

they don’t vanish

instead they get bigger and bigger, until it’s all consuming and he can’t think of a single thing that is not you

meanwhile, you’re trying desperately to suppress your own feeling and failing miserably

the two of dance around each other, tension so thick it radiated to everyone else on the crew

you’re interactions become shorter, both of you unable to be in the presence of the other for too long before you felt like you were going to say something stupid

eventually it all reaches a peak, and while working in his office one night he can’t fight his impulses, so before he can overthink it he finally just kisses you

his kiss is heated and filled with a million emotions he doesn’t know how to express with words

your relationship remains the same outside of your shared privacy, so most of the crew doesn’t even know you guys are together for months

if anyone does pick up on it, it’s because both of you are in considerably better moods for weeks after your first kiss

he lets you paint his nails and do his eyeliner

gets really affectionate when he’s tired

he isn’t the best communicator, but you’re patient and he tries his best

law is somewhat experienced, only having been with a few women in the past, but it’s enough for him to know what he’s doing

he has no problem taking the reigns, and easily slips any semblance of control right out of your grasp

sex is either super soft and romantic or he’s really mean, depends on his mood

loves having his hands all over you whenever he can

also gets really cocky and his smile when he’s like that is deadly

doesn’t say it often, but makes sure to show you every day how much he absolutely adores you

he’s so in love with you it drives him a little crazy sometimes, but he doesn’t say that

instead he saves his smiles only for you, kisses every inch of your skin, and holds you impossibly close to him while he whispers sweet praises and confessions in your ear

when law does say “i love you”, he makes sure you know how much he means it

he cherishes your late night conversations, whispered beneath the sheets

while the crew does know of your relationship now, you still don’t really act like a couple at all in front of anyone else aside from very subtle things

you always make law coffee in the morning and he thanks you for it with a kiss to the cheek before getting breakfast

and he whispers things to you all the time, just wanting to share things with you even if he may not want to share them with the rest of the crew

your relationahip changes slightly you become his wife

he never really liked the idea of marriage, but with you, he’s open to anything that would make you happy

if you want to get married, that’s what will happen

the rings would be extremely simple, but engraved with something incredibly sweet to remind you of how much he loves you, even if he isn’t able to tell you so as often as he thinks he should

there wouldn’t be any ceremony, just the rings, but it’s enough for you

after that he’d be a bit more affectionate with you in front of the crew, the occasional peck, and domestic touches

it’s usually subconscious and goes unnoticed unless someone points it out

he can’t help himself, you’re his wife, and he’s surprised by how much he loves the new title on you

ace:

very flirty with you from the very beginning

compliments you all the time

thinks you’re the hottest person in the world and is very vocal about it

the two of you literally just flirt with each other like 24/7 but still say “we’re just friends”

pisses everyone else off

you know ace has a history with women, so you figured it was safe to assume that you simply followed that pattern

so the two of you go on like that for months, so obviously crazy about each other that it quickly becomes annoying to everyone around you

the solution? set you up, obviously

some of your crew mates make it their mission to finally get you two together

setting up romantic settings where the two of you just happen to be alone

pairing you up on chores and tasks

they may or may not lock the two of you together in a closet for like an hour

it only takes a few weeks to finally get you to crack

ace is a cocky bastard about it, but also literally bouncing off the walls because he’s wanted you for forever

he fell first, you fell harder type shit

huge dork

can be pretty childish sometimes, but in an endearing way

but he does know how to read the room and take things seriously when necessary

never fails to make you feel better if you’ve had a rough day

loves seeing you in his clothes !!!!

literally the biggest flirt and tease ever, no matter how long you’ve been together

very touchy and just wants to be close to you

despite the fiery passion woven through his personality, he kisses you like he has all the time in the world

extremely good kisser, and enjoys pulling away to watch you chase his lips and try to catch your breath wayyyyy too much

50% slutty and 50% the most romantic man on the planet

he’ll literally be making the most obscene noises in your ear and then say something so butterfly inducing and poetic that you feel like you could cry

very experienced, and it shows in everything he does

he knows exactly how to read what you need, and just what to do to have you a complete mess by the time he’s done with you

slutty waist 🗣️🗣️

king of the knee thing

loves when you give him hickeys too so he can show off that he’s yours

also pretty open about pda

he doesn’t like make out with you in the middle of a bar or anything, but he definitely does not shy away from showing you love just because there are people around either

your relationship is surprisingly mature, and you have really good communication

definitely would carry you on his back, shoulders, bridal style, or just pick you up and spin you around cause it makes you smile

if he proposes it would be planned, but not necessarily traditional or formal

he’d plan some sort of fun activity for the day, like a picnic or something, and then you turn around and he’s kneeling on the ground in front of you

would pick the PRETTIEST ring

he’d also be smiling like crazy through the entire proposal cause he wants to marry you right this second

as soon as the ring is on your finger he’s already making stupid jokes that have you rolling your eyes

would “elope” (unofficially) on an island and then see how long it takes for everyone to notice

possibly making a bet to see who catches on first

once the rest of the crew knows, he takes everyyyy opportunity to call you his wife or by his last name, and giggles like a kid every single time

asks are open!

3K notes · View notes

jinkiezzsstuff · 9 months ago

Text

In Season

alastor x doe! femreader

no but really this is actually so depraved and smutty i cannot believe myself i hope yall enjoy the feast xx

Summary: You were aquatinted with hell for quite some time and you quickly learned as much as you could about mating season to protect yourself from other deer sinners. Although you came across the hotel and neither you nor Alastor could resist each other, and your instincts.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, female anatomy- no pronouns, no descriptions of bodytype/skin colour/hair type, heavy breeding kink, female masturbation briefly, penetration, squirting, creampie, horrorish aspects predator n prey, ‘in heat’ trope, OOC alastor bc y’know sex, general vulgarity, brief mention of blood, swearing, not proofread, LEMME KNOW WHAT I MISSED

Word count: 5K

You’ve been in Hell several years, and at first it was a little jarring. Especially since you now had hooves, a tail, a black scent-sensitive nose, and soft floppy ears. Honestly it was amusing getting used to your new body while dodging sinners hungry for new meat, you reminisced on your first days of hell often, as they were the most exciting.

But now you were more aware, you’d spent a majority of your time in hell assessing and attempting to understand the whole eternal damnation thing- after all you weren’t much of a believer in hell when alive. You kept atop all the sinners that were of note, the different sectors of the pentagram, the overlords as well as their strengths and weaknesses that coincides with their demonic form, you also paid close attention to all the rings of hell and their sins. You’d even grown interested in the hellbors and imps, never imagining how birth and life things that was supposed to be god's gift, ended up breeding in such a foul place like hell.

Most demons spawned into hell with some sort of form be it an object like a television, a prop like a doll, a toy such as a jack in the box, or more commonly an animal. Most humans found themselves attached to animals anyways which made sense as to why many showed up as one, as well as why it wasn't surprising to see many dogs and cats as a common form in hell. During your investigative research, you ran into a few.. hurdles.

Bucks, mating seasons. It seemed like all animal life here was cursed with some sort of violent mating season. Where all that sinners could think about doing was mating. Bucks had been your biggest issue in hell, you found it pretty simple to ignore mating seasons, focusing your mind anywhere but the burning in your pelvis, but the bucks would storm around looking for the smell of the doe near them.

It’s a pain in the ass and you always had your calendars marked, alarms and reminders set, as to not forget that mating season was coming and you needed to take precautions.

Besides the chase the bucks would give you every year, you had it pretty easy in hell, you published on a blog your findings marketing it to new sinners in hell, kind of like a guide to hell, and that kept your bills paid and your mind occupied.

Walking down the road in the pentagram city with the intentions of snapping some pictures of some of the expected violence in hell, you gazed along the different brick walls and shops, shopping with your eye at times. You came by yet another brick wall, this one littered with taped up signs, your paced slowed as your eyes rapidly moved across the words on different pages.

There were varying signs, one for resale value drugs, IMP immediate murder professionals, and Charlie Morningstars Hazbin Hotel. Pausing your stride you went up to the wall getting a closer look at the shitty drawn piece of paper, there was several different… characters, on it very poorly drawn. You recognize Charlie’s name of course, you’d often see her roaming around the pride ring actually, unlike her father who you never saw.

Pulling out your phone you snapped a picture of the sign and decided to take a trip down to that side of the pentagram to check out this hotel. It’s definitely quite the story to be told that’s for sure.

You made left, rights, had to take cover for thirty minutes while some sinners duked it out shooting up a whole block, then you tried to hail down a cab- failed and trudged for the longest time to the hotel. It was so much further than you anticipated but everytime you felt like turning back you told yourself you were almost there which got you to the door of the hotel, by the end of the day however.

Knocking on the giant doors you didn’t know whether to walk in like you would a hotel, or wait for a guide. Tapping your fingers against your thighs you’re suddenly hit with strong arousal that clawed suddenly at your abdomen.

Bringing your phone up from your pocket you checked the date, you knew the season was changing and autumn was here but you didn’t have any issues with buck recently so you didn’t really have to worry. You did confirm mating season was in progress, with the conformations laying within the calendar, but it shouldn’t have been a problem, unless there is a buck inside the hotel.

Suddenly the door flew open and you were pulled away from your contemplation by a high pitched, giddy voice tugging your attention toward it. “Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Charlie! Come in! Are you here for the hotel!” The blonde rambled quickly, tugging you in by your wrist.

The hotel was weirdly homey, you could tell that there were different personalities that occupied the space, different colours of reds decorated, random items littered around the room like stiletto boots by the door, a large pile of needles in a corner, the bar seemed to be its own aesthetic design. It was comfortably warm and smelt like an active fireplace, as well as something so strong and musky it made your legs inadvertently clench.

You attempt to hold your instincts inside but this wasn’t like any other buck you’ve smelt before- it made you ravenous. Pulling yourself together while Charlie spoke about the hotel you pondered what you’d say, you could exactly be like, is there a male buck here because i’m horny as fuck.

No. Smiling to Charlie tiredly, you finally ready yourself to give her the explanation. “This place really is lovely, I didn’t actually come to be a patron but maybe write something about it for the little blog thing i have.” You felt jittering and lightheaded as you spoke, your eyes scanning the room and ears pulled back. “Uhm would it be okay to stay for a night?”

Charlie perked up clasping her hands together nodding eagerly. “Of course to both~!” She sang out happily. “I am so glad some people are interested! Who knows, maybe after a day you’ll wanna stay!” She exclaimed, twirling around happily.

You smiled at her optimism and you were genuinely happy that the princess of hell was such a breath of fresh air in the smog filled hell you all lived in. “Do you want me to show you around? Meet our staff and guests?” Charlie asked, a glimmer of hope and excitement sparkling in her eye. You took a brief moment to ponder before nodding your head. “I think that would be perfect, then though would i be able to rest, the walk fucked my hooves.” You say tapping the tip of your booted hoof against the floor.

Interlocking your elbows Charlie nodded, dragging you toward the bar. “Of course you can, I'll end our tour with your room, but let me begin it with Husk! Our loyal bartender!” Walking toward the bar you’d spotted early on, the cat demon turned his head ever so slightly toward you. “Hi,” The alcoholic said flatly, Charlie laughed nervously, but you didn’t really mind his demeanour you preferred short and to the point.

“Hey Husk, nice to meet you.” The cat grunted at you, and gave you a sorta glare. “Another deer. Course it fuckin is.” Husk muttered to himself bitterly, Charlie scolded him under her breath, before turning to you with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. “He’s sweet once ya get to know him. Heh, anyways c’mon lets meet Angel!”

After about thirty minutes of running around you met all but one of the members residing within the hotel. As you skipped around the hotel you entirely forgot about the low grade heat buzzing between your legs, you were used to it after all, and you enjoyed yourself a lot, confessing to Charlie that you particularly enjoyed the rambunctious Nifty and flirty Angel.

“Alright, the last person of note is one of the most important. He’s been assisting in the hotel basically since the start, half of it wouldn’t be possible without him.” Charlie explained walking up to a door, on it had two different do not disturb signs. A large wood one nailed right on the door, and a second hanging off the handle.

Charlie picked the sign from its hanging position humming while examining it. “He’s never had these before.” She muttered, voice filled with confusion, however you were lost in a daze. This was the smell you could pick up down stairs, he must’ve been a buck, there wasn’t any other way.

The scent was pungent, nearly knocking you off your heels with arousal, it was musky, something only described as sweaty and primal. The natural hormones of the demon beyond the door were unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it was like he was a starved man, hungrier than ever and more than ready to breed.

It was dirty and you felt embarrassed at the reaction you were having, typically you had a low hum and no real desire to attempt to have sex with one of the many deer demons who came after you so this was a bit of a new experience. And it was nearly painful, you don’t even know the guy and yet it felt like you were being consumed by him.

“Hm, wait here I’ll go ask Nifty! She normally knows the most,” Charlie drifted off tilting her head at you. “You okay there?” She asked nervously, you promptly nod at that, inwardly cursing yourself for not being more controlled. “Yeah,” You quickly clear your throat trying to play off the lust filled tone for a dry throat. “Yes,” You say with more conviction. “Sorry it’s been a long day. Before you head off, would this guy happen to also be a deer?”

Charlie grinned super wide, purely whites on display. “He is! Best for last! I think you two will be happy to have each other haha,” She chuckled a little awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She shook her head, swiftly bidding you ado and walking off to find Nifty.

You waited a moment listening for anything down the halls, but you didn’t hear anything anywhere, and you couldn’t see anybody around, nor could you see cameras hidden in the corner. Walls crashing down, heart rate naturally kicking up; you unbuttoned your pants, spreading your legs and slipping your hand down your pants.

You whimpered at the contact of your cold fingers to your clit, feeling the sticky sensation of arousal cover the bit of thigh that your underwear didn’t touch. You soaked yourself just by the smell of the deer on the other side of the door. You slipped your middle finger and ring finger down, coating your fingers entirely before slipping them into you, curling them as you did.

You inhaled deeply resting your free arm against the door above your head for you to lean forward on, you didn’t have the intentions of fucking your self in the hall, but one thrust turned into three. Now you’re dripping, gasping for air and trying to keep yourself quiet when all you wanted to do was collapse and beg whoever occupied the other side of the door to please fuck the neediness out of you.

As you quickened your pace, your body quivered from the uncomfortable position, but you halted everything when you heard the unmistakable sound of a radio on the other side of the door. It was a gritty sound, garbled with no real sound coming out of it, just strange static. You tried to catch your breath as you listened closely, checking your left and right speedily ro assure you were still alone.

Suddenly the doorknob shifted the door falling open under your weight. Your legs stuttered attempting to catch your body, hand whipping out from inside you, slick and sticky with your arousal as if you were some whore. Unfortunately you weren’t able to catch yourself fast enough but lessened the brunt of the fall with your knees before your hands came down to finish. You were still in a blitzed out haze, but the room was pitch black, the only sound that could be heard was an ambient sound of nature and the faintest sound of the radio.

The only light that you were blessed with was the hall light from the opened door behind you. You could barely make out deer heads hung on the wall and a red couch before the door snapped shut leaving you alone in the darkness.

You whimpered, clenching your legs and your teeth, you could still hear the radio but it sounded like it was seriously messed up, switching stations, pitches and incorporating sounds you’d never heard from a radio, like growls and deep rumblings.

Your fear mixed with desire and the smell of lust was far more palpable in this room. It was so much harder to ignore the scent and the smell of the buck who was definitely worked up in this room. “What a depraved little doe you are.” You jumped at the voice, nothing like you expected. He sounded wicked, dark, and surprisingly, hornier than you.

You could now hear him in the room with you, his deep pants, the footsteps around, you swear you could’ve heard him accidentally hit his antler against something as well, it was like he just materialised. “What’re you doing out of bed so late? You do know how filthy bucks can be this time of year, don’t you.”

You yelped as two bright red eyes appeared just a few feet in front of you, either this guy was crouched or contorted as you never stood from the floor. As his eyes got closer to you, his being consumed you entirely, as it dawned on you that he was crawling toward you like a goddamn animal.

“Sorry.” You meekly whimpered, tilting your head back ever so slightly, neck on display for him. He let out a baritone chuckle, shocking you slightly, before he replaced that shock with a new-by pouncing on top of you.

He brought his face closer to yours, the crazily dialed eyes of his illuminating your face enough for him to properly see and observe your face. You however only got brief glimpses of a strained yellow smile, and messy red hair that stuck to his face from sweat. You could feel his body heat against you making your own body feel hotter by the second, his right hand sat above your head, his other grabbed ahold of the wrist that moments ago was deep inside you.

One of his knees sat outside of your body by your thigh, while the other knee occupied the inner thigh too close to your core for comfort, or perhaps not close enough. All you knew is this deer was one of the horniest you’ve ever come across, his breath was erratic chest heaving, breath tickling your face and neck, his eyes were blown and obviously a firey red bright enough to add a horror-esque ambience.

You could feel the strain he had against his suit pants, it was hard not to when in the position he took he was straddling one of your thighs. He gripped your hand harder bringing it up to his face, your heart pounding in your ribcage as you watched motionlessly.

He groaned at the sight of your still wet fingers, his smile stretching just slightly as his eyes momentarily closed. Then his mouth opened, as did his eyes, teasingly he opened his mouth bringing your fingers up to him, before he took a hold with his mouth swirling his long tongue around your digits. You whined, closing your eyes at the feeling, the way he did it was not just in an attempt to be pornographic but to properly taste you, coating his taste buds with your arousal. Pulling his mouth away with an exasperated groan, he dragged his sharp teeth along your flesh, leaving tiny cuts that exuded just enough blood to satiate his desire.

He pulled himself away properly, saliva stringing as he did. You peaked your eyes open, as suddenly a feeling of being sucked into the floor consumed you and you felt like screaming. Though it all happened too fast that you weren’t able to squeak anything out; the floor sucked you in and within seconds spit you out. Gently your body bounced against soft velvet comforters on what you assumed was a bed- his bed. Still surrounded by only the blackened room, the buck nowhere you could see, you sat there heart pounding, bewildered, scared and horny, a unique combination to be fair.

“Tell me, my dear doe. When was the last time you gave into such, primal desires?” The man’s voice appeared before he did, sliding up beside you from the shadows. “Never.” You whisper looking into his deepened red eyes. “I am so sorry. I avoid bucks, I came for business- I didn’t- god i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself- you fuckin,” You threw your head back groaning in frustration, feeling embarrassed to admit you were just about willing to do anything he said if it meant he spread you out and bred you.

He chuckled demonically, his hand sticking out to you. “Alastor, sweetheart, pleasure to meet you, quite, the pleasure.” Alastor’s radio voice lowered and he purred to you so sultry that you clenched your thighs together. Grasping his larger clawed hand that he had stuck out, you shook him tightly enjoying the warmth and contact. “YN, pleasure to meet you too.”

Gently pulling his hand away, Alastor inched his way closer to you, leaning over he placed his hand on the other side of your torso seemingly trying to resume the position he held on the floor. “I could smell you enter the hotel, you know. I keep myself away every season and no other passer by, has been an issue. So what is it that you’ve done my dear,” Alastor questioned accusingly while dragging a claw up your neck and getting back to being on top of you.

Alastor felt like he couldn’t help himself, he felt a yearning for sex he’d not felt ever, sure there’s been the occasional session with his hand on a particularly trying mating season, but never real feral need like this. He wanted to leave his mark on you, and keep all those other foul deer demons that may attempt to take their claim on you in the future.

Growling radio admission and static echoed throughout the room, Alastor promptly closed the inches between your bodies, gently collapsing on top of you. Alastor dragged his tongue up your neck from your collar to your jaw line, ending his travel with an opened mouth kiss. You whimpered at the sensation of his body against you clutching his shirt, as he nipped at your neck with his sharp teeth drawing blood.

His thigh was pressed against your core with the way he leant down on you, and you wondered if he could feel how you were pulsing desperately begging him to fill you. Against your will you jerked up grinding yourself into him, causing him to groan at the own pleasure he got from the friction. Alastor then pulled away entirely looking down at you, then a gentle red light flickered on, then another, and finally a third, lighting the room up with a reddish glow.

You weren’t focused on how, or where the light came from, but rather the man in front of you. You had no clue it was Alastor, as in thee overlord Alastor, although you should’ve put it together based on all the radio feedback that sounded from out of him. Of course you knew of him from your research but he’d been gone when you came down so you easily forgot him.

Alastor was dishevelled, without a suit coat, just a button up and his suit pants, his hair was a mess as you briefly saw before, but man oh man did he look a wreck. He was sweaty, his antlers were out on full display, his eyes lidded.

“I had no idea you were a deer.” You say eyeing him up and down, he chuckled at that. “So you know of me?” The question, you might almost say, sounded uncertain, perhaps before with the lights off lended the two of you a comfortable anonymity that you don’t have anymore. Nodding your head you can’t help but attempt to gain some friction between your legs. “Darling if you truly want this as much as I, then I'd be more than happy to satiate the hunger for both of us- so long as we see to a date and several others after. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with another deer after me.”

Although this formal speech was out of place for your current predicament you looked past it because you wouldn’t mind this being more than a one time hook up. “Of course, I hate one night stands.” Smiling at him, his smile softened compared to its harsher one before. Alastor moved in, this time you were able to watch him in the dim light, leaning back fully and off your elbows, you got comfortable on the soft pillow that kept you somewhat propped up.

You wanted your hands free to touch him, and hold him. When his face was inches from you, lips barely touching, your hands came up to play with his hair. You go cautiously hearing rumours about the distaste he has for contact he doesn’t initiate, however the moment your hands connect to his hot neck, he moans, pushing himself down to connect to your lips.

He smiled through, as you expected him to, but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had, purely based on how intense he was once he finally got a taste of you. You just barely opened your mouth before his tongue was escaping his mouth to explore yours, it was a searing kiss one that was unique to anything before. His body once again lowered as he relaxed on top of you, most of his weight rested on you, which you loved the feeling of it was like he was encasing you with him.

You could feel the stiff hard on that ached to be freed, and his uneven breaths that expanded his chest further into yours, like a tide your chests pushed and pulled each other in and out. It was erotic, and as your make out session dragged on the messier it got, teeth scraping tongues fighting, saliva glistening on the perimeter of both of your mouths. Your hands dug into his hair occasionally touching his long antlers that were out, and everytime you did he’d moan statically into your mouth.

Alastor cared little about his poise and instead chased his own pleasure as his mouth entangled with yours, you were receptive and as needy as he was, so he felt no shame when he started to hump himself against your core. He took even more pleasure in hearing you whine for more, bucking up into him. You buttons were still undone from earlier which made him feel a sense of anger he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be the one to make you come undone, he wish he could’ve gotten to you before you fucked yourself against his door.

So with a new goal in the demons mind, he snaked his arm in between your bodies, him needing to lift himself a bit to do so, and snuck his hand down you pants straight to your soaking wet core. Gasping at the contact you jerked up into his hand, his fingers sliding down the length of you leaving no area untouched.

“Impatient?” Alastor mocked pulling away finally, although he was in no place to, as even the simplest word came out jagged and out of breath. “Alastor please,” You begged unable to stop the way you jerked up into the warmth of his hand.

With contemplative hum Alastor halted all movement making you groan. It was unbearable to put up with, perhaps the foreplay of it all would be more enjoyable if it wasn’t such a painful lust you were in. Snapping his fingers, cool washed over your body like freezer air, and soon you realized you were left bare.

You jumped curling into yourself afraid of being so suddenly exposed. Looking up you were surprised to find the overlord himself nude with you, the comforter that once laid flat underneath you now pulled up behind him. Leaning forward blanket following in suit behind him, you simply stared at him, the markings on his body, the fact he had two tone skin, and of course the more obvious aspect of his body, the fact he was hung.

Covering the two of you under the safety of the blanket, Alastor pulled your legs apart gently, body slotting back where it’s supposed to be in between your legs. “You’re devine torture my dear. Attempting to be somewhat gentlemenly in a state like this, when you’re so desperate, is absolute torture.” Alastor grit out, his static gone as he struggled against the animalistic urge to dive into you.

Breathing out a breath you had no clue you were holding, you begged him pressing your body up into his. Thoughtlessly you reached down between you two, wrapping your legs around his torso to nudge him closer, and slowly you wrapped your fingers around him making him almost robotically crackle.

Giving him a few awkward strokes, due to your position, you guided him towards your entrance that needed no prep, with how you pulsed aching, and dripped greedily you weren’t too worried about pain.

Alastor barely took your guidance, as once you stroked him a twig snapped, when you lined him up to your entrance, he jerked forward plunging into you rather harshly causing your body to jolt. A heat shot through your body crawling down your pelvis straight to your toes, while your jaw hung open, unable to make the noise. Alastors radio was popping and crackling as he fucked into you, grinding his body against your own, he was pouring himself into you as fast as he could and for him it still wasn’t fast enough.

Meanwhile you were still attempting to catch up, your brain hazily lagging behind as your body jerked along with every thrust. You could feel yourself dripping down the length of him, the wet slapping of skin was just more indication you were practically a faucet. Reaching upward to grab onto his neck, it was your turn to growl viciously, loving the way his eyes and smile looked in this fucked out haze.

Grinning at him you tilted your head back, eyes closed at the insane pace Alastor was attempting. “Fuck Al, just like that please don’t fuckin stop,” You moan spreading your legs further apart so your clit was more exposed to his flesh that came slapping down.

One of his hands grasped your neck lightly squeezing, you clenched in tandem with his choking, absolutely loving the feeling of him having you at his mercy. “Who knew such a sweet face would be so, filthy.” Alastor said through a toothy smile his radio voice was gone only leaving his strained raw vocals.

You let out wails of pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress, before you roughly pulled Alastors head down forcing him to give you a kiss. Your tongues met before your lips did as neither of you were going in for gentle but rather a greedy taste of one another.

Alastor moaned and whimpered more when kissing you seemingly without hesitation, making you feel closer to the edge then before. Arching your body up you clawed Alastors back begging him, tears threatening to spill and the feeling of need. “Please Alastor, please fuck- so good it’s gonna- i’m gonna cum- Al don’t stop,” You cried loudly stumbling over what you wanted to say as you felt hot all over.

Above you Alastor could barely hold on, his forehead rested against you as you cried, wailing for him to fuck you begging for him to make you cum, and he knew from how you cried for him, ge was gonna. He also knew he wasn’t far himself feeling as you clenched and leaked all over the bed, it was disgusting and he loved it. Your skin stuck to his as his body came crashing down on yours legs too shaky to hold him himself up, but his pace didn’t let up all that much still forcing himself deep into you, marking every inch of you.

You screamed, clawing his back wrapping your arms around him as you convulsed. You whined about how it was so good how hard you were coming but it got mixed up in his mind as he focused on the violent gushes of liquid that rushed out of you. It seemed your orgasm kept being pulled out as you continued to gush around him making him bellow out his own praises of how good you felt, how glad he was you were coming on his cock and making a wet mess of his bed.

Alastor was ravenous as he used your cunt to milk him of everything he had trying hard to get himself as deep as possible in you. Meanwhile you continued to moan and whine at him your orgasm still pushing on gushes is liquid squirting out of you as your sentive mating body wanted more, wanted to be bred and was ready to hold out to do so.

And bred it was, Alastor bit onto you as he came, loving the feeling of filling you to the brim, it wasn’t anything he’d done or felt before. You groaned, smiling wickedly and you hungrily kissed up his neck pulling his ear with your teeth, whispering to him about how badly you wanted to be filled with his cum, eyes rolling back as he stilled in you finally.

Your body ceased a bit before his movement ceased, It was all insanely animalistic. Now as Alastor laid on top of you, still inside you, you felt the post nut clarity truly hit you. You were still in a lustful haze, however you’d never been that much with a man, nevermind one you haven’t properly met. Although you didn’t mind, as you dragged your fingers through his sweaty hair you reminded yourself he wanted to see you more, not just use you.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor enjoyed the smell of your skin and the doe pheromones you naturally let off. In the back of his mind twisted questions that he couldn’t bother trying to answer. His head laid under your chin, face between your breasts dazed and staring off into space. You cautiously traced your fingers up his ears, his antlers fell in size back to little sticks. His ears twitched but he made no remark as you gently played with them.

“Do you regret it?” You broke the silence with the nasty feeling of worry in your gut, worry that you messed up, worried you both made a mistake. Alastor let out a long hum, his radio frequencies back in action as he did. “No dear not at all. Lust or not I was certain about my decision. I had the strength to hold back when I heard you on the other side of the door but I didn’t want to.” Alastor admits still a little coy is his delivery.

Although he did a very good job at assuring you because any doubt you had vanished. It was a vulnerable time for the both of you, during mating season, that having the knowledge that he still could’ve kept control, kept himself on the other side of the door but instead choose to claim you, yeah made your heart and mind content.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you

6K notes · View notes

reidrum · 1 month ago

Text

one of me is cute, but two though?

A/N: …no explanation for this i fear. probably ovulating again. stream short n sweet, happy kinktober !

cw: *cracks knuckles* smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spence, fingering, oral (m receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, marking?, cr**mp*e, edging, aftercare, pet names, mentions of hypothetical pregnancy, fem!reader, a very real research paper that i actually looked up and read, this is filth but at least it’s prn with plot!

wc: 3.2k

summary: spencer can’t wait to have kids with you, in fact he wants to start right now

i love feedback! and talking to people!!! especially about spencer!!! pls interact with me it would make my entire existence okay thank you also this isn’t proofread

Spencer having baby fever wasn’t new to anyone, as the godfather of two of his closest friends’ children and known to be a crowd favorite to the kids at parties, he always had a longing desire to have children of his own to love and raise.

He’ll admit that at the start of your relationship he didn’t know how far the two of you would go, what kind of future was out there for you both. But the more you integrated into his life, his routine, his values, the more he knew for certain he would spend the rest of his life with you.

That brings you to today, you and Spencer were having an errands day making stops at the grocery store and target. As you’ve finished shopping around you both stand in line to checkout, and you’re standing behind a mother holding her little baby staring at you with her big green eyes. Your face melts as you coo gently at the baby, making silly faces and enjoying her little giggles.

A completely normal moment for you, but absolutely world changing moment for Spencer. It’s like something turns primal in him watching you play with the baby. Suddenly he’s picturing you rocking cradles at night, taking your kids—his kids—out to the park, how you’d look with a round belly carrying his child.

He looks at you with an adoration fueled by need, as in he needs to get you home right now before he attacks you in the middle of target.

A gently nudge pulls him from his daydream, “Hey, you okay? Lost you for a second.”

He shakes his head and steps forward to place the items on the conveyor belt and goes up to pay, “Yeah, no I’m okay.” he says mindlessly swiping his card and grabbing the bags.

You furrow your brows and walk to the car, tabling his weird behavior for another time to discuss, “I’m too hungry to question whatever that was right now, can we get pho?”

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your head before getting into the driver’s seat, absentmindedly still thinking about what your little ones would look like.

After you get lunch it’s a short drive home, but Spencer can’t help but wonder how the hell he got to this point. He wanted children with you, and yet you weren’t even married, not even close to it. You had just moved in with him only a few months ago, but he’s still firm in knowing he wants to spend forever with you.

You open the door to the house, Spencer following behind imagining little footsteps pattering throughout the house, a mini you and mini him. He’s so into his daze he doesn’t see the dining table and bangs his hip against it.

He groans in pain as you rush into the room, “Are you okay? I heard a bang.”

“No, I’m fine I just hit my hip.” He winces in pain.

The suspicion from earlier rises again and you can’t help but bluntly ask, “What is going on with you? You’re being spacey and weird with me. If it’s something I did please tell—“

“Do you want kids?” he blurts out interrupting you.

Your eyes widen, “Wh—what?”

Spencer’s eyes widen too, why the hell did he just say that? “I—um…Okay, not as in right this second. But, is that…something you’d want in the future?”

You pause for a few seconds before speaking softly, “Yeah, it is.”

“Okay. Cool.” He tries to say as nonchalantly as someone who downed an espresso shot.

Then it all starts to click for you, the lingering touches, the looks at the store when you’d see little babies, on walks in the park he’d stare into the playground.

“Spencer…do you… want to have kids…with me?” You ask so softly he subconsciously moves closer to hear you better.

He tries to pull every psychology and behavior tactic he can to read the expression on your face, to decipher what you’re truly feeling, but he comes up empty and is left to grapple with the emotions of the moment on his own.

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? Oh baby, no I’m not mad. Just a little surprised, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” You move to stand right in front of him at arm’s length, to let him know you’re right there, that you’re always there.

“How could I not? You are so beautiful, kind, and smart. I think I’d be the luckiest dad in the galaxy if my kids turned out like you.” He says softly, grabbing your hand to thumb at the palm in a soothing manner, more to calm his nerves than yours but it’s really working both ways. You couldn’t look any softer to him than right then.

He continues, “I’m sorry if I made things awkward, but I love you, and I want a future with you. House, kids, taxes, all of it.”

You fake gasp, “Even taxes?”

“Especially taxes,” He smiles as he plays into your dramatics, “Like I said, I don’t mean right now. I know there’s like thirty steps we have to take before then. But I’m here for all of it.”

“Spence…” You tearfully smile, “I love you, and I want all of it too.”

Spencer couldn’t be more happy as he slowly leans in to kiss you, lingering so you know just how happy he is. He pulls back and peppers kisses all over your face while you giggle, “Okay, okay!”

He presses one last big kiss on your forehead, cartoonish noise and all, and he wraps you up in his arms tightly.

“So…did something happen today that made you tell me?” You ponder. Of course you’d been thinking about a future with Spencer. but you didn’t know that he felt the same way, and so seriously at that.

He mumbles into your shoulder, “You were playing with that baby in the Target checkout line. And I’m not kidding, all day I couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d look like carrying our child.”

You grin wickedly, “You really wanna knock me up that bad, huh?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea the restraint I had today to not pounce on you in the middle of the store. I would have risked the life ban in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah?” You glide your finger down his chest, “What did you wanna do?”

Spencer smirks, seeing the game you’re playing. “Well, I was thinking about this book I read on the best positions for maximum fertility.”

“So you read porn—“

“It’s not porn!” He chuckles, “It’s a real scientific study they did in Cambridge about if different positions induce fertility due to the variances in angle of the male ejaculation, and whether it would increase the rate of fertilization. It was actually really fascinating. They had the subjects do it inside the MRI machine.”

You can’t help but feel flustered, “I can't believe that turned me on.”

“I also know that you’re ovulating right now, so all your sexual senses are heightened.”

“I know I should find that funny, but it’s actually so fucking hot that you know that.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring his head closer to your ear as you whisper, “Wanna go try them out?”

Spencer’s eyes darken and he immediately reacts, “Jump.” holding your thighs up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You giggle a little above his head, cupping it with both hands as you lean down to kiss him while he walks to your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed with a squeal before working his shirt off, watching you slowly peel your own shirt off and shimmy out of your pants leaving you bare in a bra and panties.

He lets out a groan, “I think you’re trying to kill me.” He climbs over your body and leans down to attack your neck, one hand holding one of yours above your head the other trailing its way down. A finger traces the outline of your panties, pressing down on the wet patch near your entrance.

You moan languishly and he smirks at your reaction, “I got you, okay baby? Gonna make you feel so good.”

His finger finally slides past the fabric and makes contact with your cunt, gathering the slick and spreading it all over you. Breathless moans escape you, and by the time you’re used to one finger the fucker adds another finger and rests his thumb on your clit drawing soft circles.

The feeling of his fingers sliding so easily in and out of you is terrifyingly intoxicating, and you can’t seem to get enough. He can feel you squeezing his fingers and by your increased moans he knows you’re close, “C’mon pretty girl, you can do it.”

The little praise he gives you is enough to send you over the edge, and you’d be embarrassed at how easily it affected you if you weren’t so overcome with coming down from your peak. You slowly regain your bearing through heavy breaths and look up at him above you with hooded eyes, “Jesus, Spence.”

A wide smirk plasters on his face as he stands up from the bed, “Just getting started baby.” He makes work of his belt buckle and slides it off while you crawl over to help him with pulling his zipper down. You tug his pants down enough to expose his bulge, and you lightly palm him through his boxer.

A deep groan rumbles through his throat, his hands coming up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail as watches you slowly pull him out of boxers. He’s achingly hard, tip red and throbbing. You coo at him, “Poor thing, must’ve been painful today keeping this in, when all you wanted to do was come inside me, hm?” a strangled noise leaves him as you continue, “I know you really wanna sink your dick in me, but can I have just a little taste?”

The doe eyes you give him as you speak your lewd words has him nearly teetering over the edge and you haven’t even put your mouth on him yet. He nods vigorously, not trusting words to do him good and watches himself slowly disappear down into your throat, further and further back until he hits something hard and you gag a little. He mutters a sorry that sounds like a half cry half moan, but the way his hips are subconsciously thrusting into you and the hand that’s gripping your hair guiding you so, tells you he might not actually be that sorry.

“Fu—uu—uck.” his head tilts back as the overly enunciated curse flies out of his mouth. Your head bobs with a ferocity on his cock, using your hand to pump whatever you can’t comfortably fit into your mouth. Spencer thinks this is what heaven must be like, that you an angel personified have brought the pearly gates down onto the Earth and blessed him with your mouth.

You continue to take him into your throat for a few more seconds before you feel a sharp tug on your hair that wasn’t meant to hurt but might’ve felt that way with how desperate Spencer needed you off of him.

“What happened?” you ask, voice raspy and confused.

He breathes heavily, “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.” you giggle and sit up on your knees and Spencer closes the distance by reaching for your head in both hands and pulling you in for a long kiss.

“Turn around.” he whispers low, gently pushing you onto your stomach the second your back is to him. The anticipation builds as you can hear him remove the remainder of his clothing, and he climbs over you to unclip your bra and gently pull your panties over and off your legs.

He tosses them to the side and returns to looming above you while you’re splayed out on your stomach in front of him. You get on your forearms and arch your back, letting your ass and cunt be on full display for him knowing this was a position he loved. He can’t help himself but lean forward and swipe his tongue through your folds, groaning at how sweet you taste.

When he pulls off of you, you’re fully expecting his next move would be to finally be inside you. What you don’t expect, is him backing up a little and pulling your legs back towards him so you’re back to lying fully flat on the bed. Before you even have a chance to question him he’s crawling back over you and lowering his head to whisper hotly in your ear, “Have you ever tried this one?”

The long and soft whine you let out goes straight to his cock as he lines himself up at your entrance and slowly pushes in. Pushing past the folds of your cunt that wraps so perfectly around him, he’s in awe watching it enter you. You, on the other hand, are on a different planet from the feeling the new position is giving you. He’s deeper than he’s ever been in you, reaching spots you didn’t even know existed, his hands pressing onto your back so hard you know there’s going to be imprints later.

The moans escaping from you are consumed by the sheets beneath you, his pace unrelenting as he holds you in place and ruts into you.

“Spence..” you whine softly.

The weight of his hands press your body further into the mattress as he leans down right next to ear and whispers hotly, “Yeah, baby?

The emotions builds in you fast and the need to kiss him becomes stronger, “Wanna see you…Need to see you.”

His hips stutter at the tone of your voice, so whiny and desperate, all for him. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, how he became the object of all your desires, how everyday you wake up and it’s him you choose repeatedly, and will continue to choose for the rest of time. You’ve always loved him, it was a fact you made sure that he knew every single day.

When he flips you over with a gentleness, he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, hoping that the synergy flows between your contact and you can feel it in every nerve ending, just how in love he is with you. He think you got the message as he watches you move your hand between your bodies to grab at his cock and slowly guide back inside you while you both watch him push fully into you again.

He looks down between your bodies and watches his cock move in and out of you, mesmerized by the ring of slick that reappears with every pull out. It’s nearly automatic the way his thumb reaches for your clit and moves his eyes upward to watch you completely unravel at the hands of his touch.

Your brows are furrowed together in pleasure, “Fuck…’m close.” you mutter through a whine.

His hips snap to meet yours rapidly, “Yeah? Me too…” he taps your leg to lift it onto his shoulder, deepening his angle and circling you around the throes of your release. He grunts out, “Gonna let me put a baby in you?”

You clench down on him hard with a loud moan, neither of you expecting the effect his words had on you. Spencer chuckles and bends down to press love bites into the crook of your neck before trailing back up to your ear and whispers, “Didn’t think you’d be into me talking like that…you really want everyone to know who fucks you good every night? Want them to see you walk around with our baby in your belly?”

Your moans are uncontrollable at this point, it’s a miracle you can still hear him over the incoherent, borderline babbling sounds you’re making. He doesn’t relent as his hand slides up your neck to grip your jaw to hold your head in place, “Say it, I wanna hear you say it.”

A whimper falls out of you, “I—fuck—I want y—you…”

His hips slow down their pace, “Not good enough, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

The tiniest panic rises in you at the thought of him stopping, “No, don’t stop! Spencer, please. I want a baby, please want it all with you, please, please.” You realize in that moment you were never above begging to begin with, not when he’s between your legs offering you the world from the comfort of your sheets.

His pace quickens and groans at your pleas, leaning down closer so he’s chest to chest with you, “Oh, sweet girl,” he pants, “You’ll look so pretty carrying our kid, gonna drive me crazy watching you walk around.”

A string of moans trail out of your mouth, encompassed by the feeling of him inside you, the thoughts of your future together only adding to the intensity of the moment.

You weakly breath out, “Come inside me, please. Wanna make you a daddy.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear reach his peak and release into your cunt, rhythmic moans punctuating every thrust. Your grip on him tightens as you squeeze out every last drop of him. He feels himself become soft and gently pulls out, watching his come drip out of your hole. With a whimper he delicately picks up the excess with two fingers and enters you again, eliciting a languished whimper to match his.

“I know, I know, baby. Did so good for me, ‘m so proud of you.” he mumbles, watching the white coat his fingers as they move inside you. “Can you give me one more? Just one, I promise. Look so pretty like this, I can’t help it.”

You’re about to protest, feeling the sensitivity get the better of you when the pleasure hits again, another moan escaping you clearly telling him you can take it.

It’s a softer orgasm this time, a smaller peak but still lust filled and has you panting heavily as you come down from it. Spencer finally collapses on the bed next to you, his chest also heaving.

“You okay, baby?” he mumbles after a few minutes.

Words can’t fulfill you right now and all you can offer is a nod as you lazily lull your head over to him. He nods and reluctantly gets up from the bed despite your pout with a promise to be so quick, and returns with a wet cloth, a water bottle, and a fresh set of clothes for you. You let him gingerly clean you up before he helps dress you and slips right back into place beside you with a kiss to your temple.

“I love you…so much,” he whispers while pulling you into his embrace, “I really can’t wait to start a family with you.”

You hum contentedly, tilting your head up to press a kiss to his jaw, “I love you too.”

A few moments pass before he speaks again, “But…you’re still—“

“Still on birth control, baby. Don’t worry.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #kinktober #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid

2K notes · View notes

theeveninghour · 8 months ago

Text

All My Dreaming

Summary: You came to the Night Court as a fugitive and quickly became a valued member of the Inner Circle. Azriel’s love for you has burned brightly in his chest for nearly two centuries now, but when an unknown force threatens to take you from him, he must fight to keep you at his side.

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

A/N: I don’t use Y/N here just out of personal preference, but the IC do call reader “Little One” because she’s younger than them by like a century or so. Also, slight timeline deviation? I kind of just made the ACOTAR timeline work for me a little bit but the important bits are there mostly. If it’s not totally accurate, please suspend your disbelief and go with it. I also took some serious liberties with Prythian geography and Azriel’s shadows in this. I had to force myself to stop because I could’ve written five more scenes, so let me know if you all want a part two. I got nasty Azriel thots to spare, baby!

WC: 16.1k ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, violence, death, descriptive gore, lots of time jumps, torture, smut, p in v, fingering, porn with plot, mating, slow burn, angst, friends to lovers, declarations of love, loving sexy times, miscommunications abound, Azriel being a big ole softie, Azriel being a big ole bitch to bad men, Azriel really going tf thru it emotionally, and Azriel being mouthy as fuck. Just girly things.

Part 2

Azriel hadn’t seen you in four days. Nearly a week had passed since you’d left. Rhys mentioned a mission but no additional details, Cassian avoided the topic, knowing how frustrated his brother got when you were gone, and Feyre was decidedly unhelpful the few times he’d brought you up. His shadows searched aimlessly, they’d found nothing as far south as Winter Court, daring not venture into Autumn, and knowing damn well you’d never step foot into Spring. You were slowly driving him mad; the bond in his chest aching at the loss. Even if you hadn’t recognized the golden thread linking the two of you, he felt it.

Gods, did he feel it. He’d often lay in his bed at night, eyes tracing the intricate foil patterns of the ceiling tiles. When sleep evaded him, as it frequently did, he’d grasp the thread tightly in his minds eye and tug it experimentally, begging you to see, to notice it was him that loved you with a ferocity that rivaled the sun. Try as he might, the responding tug never answered, his call into the void not returning an echo.

The second it snapped for him, Azriel had resolved himself as unworthy, not of someone like you. You were powerful, breathtakingly beautiful, intimidatingly intelligent, and you regularly brought men to their knees, both in political circles and on the battlefield. Rhys relied on you as much he did Cassian and Az, you were a core member of his court, a valuable asset, and the love of Azriel’s life. Azriel avoided the latter subject entirely, choosing instead to silently stoke the ember in chest with unyielding affection; his own private paramour.

When you’d joined the Night Court, you’d been on the run from both Winter and Autumn Courts. Your father was a high fae noble in Winter that had attempted to arrange a marriage to the second youngest Vanserra of Autumn. The family’s brutal reputation was legend and you were terrified. You were young then, barely a century old, and upon your introductory visit to the Autumn Court, Beron sought to make an impression by presenting a welcome gift. That gift? The public torture and execution of a servant he’d deemed traitorous.

His gleaming eyes remained on yours with each cast of the fire whip he’d conjured using his cruel magic. He’d cracked it again and again until blood splattered and the servant was left flayed beyond recognition, flesh searing, and finger tips twitching from the remaining neurons firing in his brain. Only after his death did Beron announce his crimes. He’d stolen a parcel of food from the royal pantry to feed his wife and small child. Your stomach churned at the thought of the now widow and fatherless child waiting at home for the male that would never return.

It had all been a test to see if you were worthy of the most violent and petulant of the broody sons, and you’d passed, holding Beron’s stare and keeping your back straight as you faced his wrath head on. You’d cried yourself dry in your room that night though, sobs wracking your form until your chest ached, grief for the male that was lost. Fear settled into your heart, terror of the family you were set to marry into.

You’d ran at first light, leaving with nothing but the clothes on your back. Your Winter white blonde hair streaking across the red and orange forest as you bolted. Beron sent his dogs after you. You still had the scars lining your calves from where they’d gotten too close, brought you down into the dirt, jaws snapping and tearing at the muscly sinew there. But you’d fought. You’d kicked and clawed like a feral child of the woods, screaming with a sense of self preservation you’d never known you possessed.

Rhysand had found you half dead, starving and a little savage in the mountainous border between the Day and Night Courts. He’d made a bargain with you then; he’d save you, if you worked for him. Word had already spread of the ousted Winter female and spurned Autumn princeling and Rhysand was impressed you’d lasted in the wilds undetected for so long. The small star flecked tattoo of the Velarian night sky that lived on your wrist since was the only evidence of his deal.

You’d long moved past such a bargain. Rhys had offered to lift it half a dozen times in your first hundred years within his court, but you hadn’t minded. A reminder, you’d insisted, a mark of your loyalty to the family that didn’t lead you the wolves with such glee.

You’d settled into a routine in Velaris, training with the Illyrian brothers and charming Amren with your intelligence and wit. But you’d become the closest with Mor, who felt a kinship in your shared traumas. She’d soothed you in those first years, fiercely protecting her friend when Eris Vanserra had shown up in Hewn City as an emissary to inquire on your new position in the Night Court. It was that same night that Azriel realized how fucked he truly was.

Eris smirked at you and your back straightened, face growing cold. He spoke, “My brother was wondering where you’d scampered off to.” A laugh followed, “You couldn’t stomach our court, but found yourself bound to the Court of Nightmares? My my, what a wicked turn of events.”

Rhysand had spoken then, wearing his High Lord mask well, “Watch yourself, Eris. You know not what our Little One can do.” Eris laughed, the sound laced with the dark spark of a threat. “Little One? Fugitive and Night Court whore, I must tell your father. I’m sure he’ll be proud to hear of his daughter’s fate.” Azriel’s wings pricked, then fluttered, he would’ve killed Eris right then for you. Your hand came to rest on Rhys’ arm as you stepped around the throne to level your accuser with a look that should’ve turned him to stone.

“I am no male’s whore and I belong to no court except Night. Report what you wish to my father, to your father, your brother. May you all rot.” You’d spat at his feet then, and the room heated twenty degrees, Eris’ barely kept rage simmering under the surface, fire blooming on the fringes of his figure.

He stepped forward and Cassian, Azriel, and Mor all shifted, prepared to take out the threat. Eris’ eyes tracked their figures, gauging the situation. He knew better. Any attack here would mean war on his court and his father have his hide for that. You stepped forward to meet him, knowing he could make no move without endangering his position. You kept your spine straight and narrowed your gaze at him with such contempt he would’ve been impressed at the show had you been anyone else.

“I will say this once Eris Vanserra,” you held up one long manicured finger, and Azriel traced the action with thinly veiled obsession. “Leave my court or I will be the one to kill you. I’ll rip your spine from your body and I’ll do it with the same glee in which your father,” you’d spat that word, the hatred you held for Beron burning your throat as the words exited your mouth, “killed that male for feeding his family.” You took a step closer, summoning a dagger in your left hand, and rolling it your palm. “Trust that we have no tolerance for your family or your bullshit in these lands.”

Eris had good enough sense to step back then, peering around your form to where Rhysand sat, legs spread, slouched in the throne, smirking at your display of dominance. Azriel to his right looked on in pure male satisfaction, you were a powerful little thing and he was rather fond of you in that moment. Eris spoke up, “Should I note that the Night Court threatens other Courts for sport?” Cassian and Azriel rolled their eyes in synchronous fashion, but it was Mor that spoke with the dark edge of a threat, “Only ones that deserve such brutality.” Her father, Kier, stood in the gathered crowd and sneered at the tone of her voice.

You’d done the unthinkable then, winnowing behind Eris, grasping the male by his red hair and dragging the dagger to his neck, digging in enough to cause the male’s heart to speed, a line of scarlet leaking from the press of your blade. You could feel the heat in his skin, the flame licked at your hand as you released him with a shove.

You brandished your dagger as if it was an extension of your hand, the tip of the silver blade glinting with red from the now healing cut at Eris’ throat. “Come for me again and I’ll kill you.” It was then that Azriel noted the slight tremble in the hand at your right side and he wished on some distant star that he could reach out to you, soothe you, tell you that he was proud and you defended yourself and your court beautifully.

As if his wish was granted, he felt his chest give way to a canyon of emotion, heart stuttering as the bond fluttered and snapped, thrumming with affection for the female standing at the center of the room. He had selfishly allowed himself to hope it would be you, in the dark of the night when he was alone and his shadows whispered to him of your whereabouts. Since he’d met you, he fostered that small romantic notion of soulmates. His most private desire.

Eris whirled on you with a roar, grabbing your throat with hands of fire. Azriel felt the breath leave him, and he took two then three steps forward before he could think, hazel eyes alight with a fierceness you’d not yet witnessed. Your eyes found his and you held up your hand to halt his movements, the one that had trembled seconds earlier, now steady as a stone. You’d looked at Eris then, raising your chin defiantly, a slow smile overtaking your face as you once again spit at the Autumn male before winnowing back to your place in front of the dais. Rhysand raised to his feet then, taking steps down to meet you. His hand grazed your arm this time and his mind reached out, “Very good, Little One, very good.”

“As the lady said, Eris, come to my court in search of her again, and she’ll be the one to kill you.” Rhys circled Eris, tracking like prey. “But not before I sanction it for laying your hands on a member of my house.” Rhysand spoke with such quiet cunning, it was no wonder he excelled as High Lord. Eris snarled then before winnowing out of the Hewn City and Azriel quickly set his shadows to following him, ensuring he was actually gone.

You returned to Mor’s side and the shameless pride that set on your face the rest of the night made Azriel want to kiss you. Gods, he was fucked..

You’d flirted with him constantly in the first century you’d been in Velaris. You had laid it on thick too, dragging a long nail up his arm, your mouth sliding into a smirk after one too many drinks at Rita’s. Azriel had always feigned friendly indifference though, a mask he slipped on that was equal parts protection as it was self soothing. His only crack coming in the form of a slight tremble in his pinky as he tried to gather himself to avoid closing the space between you, touching, grasping, feeling.

He’d worn black leather gloves around you in your first few decades with them. His hands always held the most insecurity for him, the silver scars and warped skin a brutal reminder of his childhood. It was after training one day, as you all packed your small bags and threw towels into bins that you’d asked about it.

“I don’t mean to pry, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, but why the gloves?” You asked quietly leaning against a wall less than ten feet from him. He’d stiffened and breathed tightly, “it helps with the work.” That had always been his excuse, wearing gloves when killing helped reduce the touch memories associated with the act, and it was partially true. But he wasn’t on a mission right now, and you called him on that, “are you spying right now?” Your lips quirked, “should I tell Rhys?” Your words were mirthful, but your eyes held nothing but empathy for the Shadowsinger, sometimes Azriel wondered if that was your Cauldron blessed gift.

You’d reached down then, rolling up the left leg of your training leathers. You’d resumed your full height and rotated your calf outward for his eyes to survey the damage there. Ragged silver keloid scars marked the skin from your ankle to the soft back of your knee— a knee he’d admittedly fantasized about many nights in a row now. He’d selfishly thought about trailing kisses up your leg, pausing to nip playfully at the soft skin at your knee as he made his way north, up your thigh. He breathed deeply banishing those thoughts as he took in the site of your marred skin. Judging by the heavily keratinized markings, the injury had no doubt been painful when incurred originally. Azriel’s fingers twitched again, wanting to touch your face, hold you as he kissed away your grief.

“From Beron’s dogs,” you breathed, rolling you shoulders, as if shaking the memory from your mind. “They wouldn’t heal when I was out there,” you clicked your tongue, “granted I was starving,” you sighed, “but that’s a story for another day.” You looked at him then, and he had to steady himself at the emotions pooling in your eyes.

He’d already planned on killing Beron if the opportunity presented for what had happened with Mor, but for you, he’d make it hurt. He’d drag it out and make it slow. He’d torture him for days, flaying skin from bone, taking fingers then limbs and when at last he begged for death, Azriel would set the dogs on him and laugh as they tore him apart. He felt a long repressed need for vengeance creep up his spine, and he hated to acknowledge what its presence meant in regards to you.

“It’s okay, you know,” you’d said, head lolling to the side as you watched him, eyes swimming with a gentle affection, “I’ll never judge you for something like that.” Azriel squeezed his eyes shut as he turned his head from you and breathed in tightly. How did always manage to be so fucking disarming and vulnerable? That must’ve been a gift too.

He pinched the middle finger of the right glove and pulled it from his hand, grasping his now exposed fingers into a fist, knuckles cracking. He extended that arm out, palm up as he let you view his deepest insecurity, the thing he hated most in his appearance.

You’d stepped forward, looking at his palm. Your hands went to reach but you’d paused, looking to his eyes as you silently asked permission to touch. He nodded stiffly, watching you with the same intensity of an animal being hunted, prey ready to bolt at any moment.

Your fingers touched his hand, and he felt the connection race up his arm and to his chest, settling in his heart. Your eyes studied, and you rotated his hand, fingers gently tracing from his wrist, to knuckle, to fingernail in reverence. You covered his hand with your own, moving your eyes to his hazel ones. “Are they dead?” You’d asked seriously, and he stuttered a shocked laugh. “Yes, Little One, they are,” he answered, a small smile playing at his mouth. The two of you far too similar it seemed. “Good,” you’d said simply before kissing his knuckles and pulling the glove back on for him. The action was quietly intimate, and Azriel should’ve kissed you then. Mother knows he considered it, eyes watching you with rapt attention as his heart sped up and breathing shallowed.

“If you two are done flirting, lunch is ready,” Cassian announced from the doorway, breaking the spell you were both under. You’d jumped and laughed freely at the large male smirking at the entrance. You grasped Azriel’s hand tightly in affection before releasing it to turn on your heel to exit the room, passing by Cass with an eye roll, thumping him square in the chest.

Cassian looked to his brother as he walked into the room and his face split into a shit eating grin. “Let’s go, loverboy,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Azriel glared, scoffing as he followed behind you, praying to whatever Gods were listening that he’d get you alone again soon.

In your second century with the Night Court, you’d lessened the blatant flirting and settled into loving, easy friendship. You regularly attended balls and galas in Hewn City, fitting into such pomp with practiced ease, but always with a dagger strapped to your thigh, ready to cut a male down in seconds. Those events were almost routine at this point: Azriel would save you a dance, and you’d move together in a slow ritual that you’d both perfected over the years, he’d bow as the violinist played their final note and resume his place on dais at Rhys’ right. His eyes would follow you the rest of the night, as you spoke in an airy manner to various high fae, glaring at any male whose hands ventured too close to his mate.

Nights when the Court held parties at the House of Wind were different though. You were far less rigid, finding it easy to exist without scrutiny. Those were the nights Azriel’s eyes rarely left your form as he watched obsessively from the corners of the room.

“You’re staring,” Rhys chimed from his place next to Azriel, eyes not leaving the crowd as he spoke to the Shadowsinger, mouth smirking. Azriel was staring. You’d worn cobalt blue tonight, a lovely color on your skin. His color on your skin. Mother above, the male possessiveness that crawled up his spine was unreal. Mate, mate, mate, his shadows had sang in his ear. He wanted to pluck the eyes from every male in the room for even glancing in your direction. He wanted so much more than that too. Your breathy sighs as he marked you, your moan as he made you come undone, his name crying from your lips as he ate his come from your cunt after. Azriel had a million and one scenarios running through his head. He yearned to make each one of them come to fruition too.

He hadn’t answered Rhysand, so the High Lord tried again, “you really should tell her, but please,” Rhys closed his eyes with a grimace, “quiet your thoughts first, for Cauldron’s sake.” That got Azriel’s attention, his back straightening and mental shield slamming down. His eyes squeezed shut, almost as if he was in pain. “I cannot burden her with that now,” he said, “not with war at our doorstep.” Indeed, the second war with Hybern creeped ever closer, disappearances of other high fae occurring daily. Whatever they were planning across the sea, it was going to bring Prythian to its knees.

Rhysand sighed then, feeling older than his 500 years. “Be that as it may, we should hold those we love tighter.” Rhysand looked to Feyre at that moment, his eyes meeting his mate’s, as he sent a strum of warm affection down the bond. She smiled and returned it cheerily. He turned back to Azriel, “if it all ends tomorrow, I know my love and she knows me. That’s all we can ask for in this immortal life.” Azriel looked back to you, and your eyes were already on him, tracing the shadows that wound around his chest. You met his eyes and winked, before turning back to Mor and laughing freely.

“I thank the Cauldron daily it was you that found her in those mountains, Rhys.” Azriel spoke quietly, admitting a small secret he’d not told anyone. Rhysand softened, and clapped his friend on the shoulder, “As I am, brother.” Azriel nodded, letting the conversation die between himself and the High Lord as he drained the drink in his hand and moved down the steps in your direction.

You’d been in conversation with Mor when he approached. She was telling you of the seamstress she’d been seeing, and how happy she was. Azriel cleared his throat from behind the two of you and you turned to meet him, taking in his appearance with wide eyes. “Ladies,” he started, bowing to you and Mor, who snorted at the silly formality. “And that note, I’ll be taking my leave. I’ve got a lady to see,” she said with a wink and a flourish of her red dress. You laughed and shook your head before turning back to the Shadowsinger. He’d caught you staring earlier and your heart had nearly jumped into your throat, before Mor mocked you lightly, diffusing the tension.

“Hi Az,” you greeted softly, before dropping your empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and thanking them. Azriel watched you closely, noting the revealed skin that shifted with each movement, committing every angle and freckle to memory.

“You want to get out of here?” He dared ask, jerking his head toward the private balcony on the House of Wind. You raised a brow, Azriel? Asking you to leave? Together? You heart was back in your throat and you thanked the Mother that you’d taken your time getting ready that evening. Nodding, you grasped his arm as he offered it to you like a proper courtier. He walked the two of you up a round of stairs and away from the eyes he’d threatened earlier in the night. Voices dulled the more space you put between yourselves and them and you couldn’t help but start to sweat a bit at the thought of being alone with Azriel.

You’d been friends for nearly two centuries, but you’d always felt a connection with the male. Your heart thrummed with a warm, golden affection when he got close. It made keeping a clear head during training hard. It made sitting next to him at dinner difficult. And when he’d looked at you like you hung the moon as you danced earlier in the night, it made you want to take him to bed and ride him until he moaned your name. You breathed deeply. ‘Focus,’ you chided yourself, ‘he is your friend, for Cauldron’s sake.’

He led you out onto to the balcony and stopped at the railing before looking up at the star flecked sky. “This is my favorite part of the House,” he said eyes scanning the sky before looking back to you as you watched him. A blush crept up his neck, before he cleared his throat again.

“I’ve always wondered what it was like to be able to fly, you know,” you said quietly, removing your hand from his arm, rolling up onto your toes, leaning against the stone railing, and looking out on Velaris before scanning your eyes up to the three stars that shone brightly overhead. “When I was a child, I met a Peregryn from the Dawn Court and thought she had the most beautiful wings I’d ever seen.” You chanced a glance his way, “I’d not met an Illyrian yet.” You reminded with a smirk, bumping his arm with fondness. Gods, he was in trouble.

“I asked her what it was like and she said it was the purest sense of freedom possible.” You glanced down at your feet, “I spent the next year wishing for wings.” He mulled on your words. He wanted to say something cheesy as Cassian would, like ‘I’ll be your wings’ but he couldn’t, so you continued on.

“When I was a little older, I witnessed a blue skinned lesser fae’s wings ripped from his body as punishment and it was the most gruesome thing I’d seen at that point.” You took a shuddering breath, “I cried for him that night. The lost freedom. How maddening it must’ve been.” You looked at him then and he watched you with furrowed brows. “How does it feel for you?” You asked softly, eyes tracing the shine of his wing. ‘Magnificent things,’ you thought. You remembered seeing his wings for the first time and thinking the Peregryn had finally moved to second place in your mind.

Azriel had to gather himself as he spoke, “It’s… everything.” He said quietly adjusting his body to extend a wing. “My ability to fly came in late,” he said, and your eyes widened, you hadn’t known that. “My childhood was… rough and I didn’t learn to fly until I was nearly grown.” He laughed, scuffing the toe of his boot, wings folding in behind him. “It was a lot of crash landings those first months.” You snorted, mental image of a younger Az, landing in a puddle of mud crossing your mind.

“I was never a proud Illyrian, not like the others,” he continued, “it was hard for me to reconcile my heritage and our traditions.” He looked to the cityscape then, “but the stronger I got, the more I understood why flight was so crucial to my people.” He looked to you, eyes shining, “it’s the closest we can get to the stars.”

You leaned over the railing again, staring wistfully at the night sky, the moon reflecting on your skin. “Will you take me someday? Flying, I mean.” Did you not know Azriel would give you the world? Of course he’d take you flying. He’d give you the moon, the stars, walk through fire and back, anything. He nodded, “you say the word, and I’ll fly you the the ocean and back.” The smile that broke across your face crippled him, his knees threatened to give way.

“Yours are my favorite,” you murmured softly, eyes glancing from his wings to his face. Azriel blushed in full, pink speckling his neck and cheeks as he laughed. “Don’t let Cass hear you say that, he’s got an ego,” he said, a smile remaining at his lips. You liked him like this the most. Loose, smiling, free. You reached up then, cupping his reddened cheek, thumb stroking. “I don’t care,” you said smiling, “it’s the truth.” Azriel swallowed roughly, staring at your eyes swimming with an emotion he knew, but was much too stubborn and scared to name.

Just as your hand went to retreat, he grasped it between his own. “You can touch them,” he offered, knowing damn well the implications, “if you want,” he added. Your eyes widened. Mor had mentioned once that Illyrian’s wings were ‘sensitive,’ was the word she’d used. It was a sign of great intimacy and trust to allow another to touch them. You felt the air shift between you two then, as you nodded.

He extended a wing toward you. This felt so much like the first time he’d shown you his hands all those years ago. Your hand crept forward and gentle fingers met the red gold membrane that stretched between two metacarpals. Your fingers traced the membrane in smooth circles, then traced up to the crest. Azriel felt his breath gutter out of his mouth in a loud, choppy exhale, and he felt himself harden at the sensation of your fingers against the most sensitive portion of his wings. You gasped and jerked away at the sudden noise, before apologizing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten carried away.”

Azriel shook his head, “It’s not that, they’re sensitive.” There was that word again, only it made you think of how they’d been shredded before the King of Hybern, and you opened your mouth to apologize again, but he stopped you short. “I haven’t allowed another to touch them freely since my mother.” The admission floored you, your gut giving way with a breath.

You looked to his eyes then, the air between you had shifted again and you knew this was it. This was the moment you’d waited for, he was going to kiss you. Mother, it felt you’d waited a millennia, and he felt just the same. But that kiss never came. Instead, Azriel went stock still, his eyes now on the House behind you.

“Azriel?” You questioned. “It’s Rhys,” he said tightly, “he’s summoning me.” You understood then. He looked to you desperately, eyes a little wild and apologetic. “I’m sorry, I have to go to him.” You nodded, you both worked for the High Lord, you’d never get in the way of Azriel’s allegiance to his Court. “Of course,” you said quietly, taking a step back and swallowing down your disappointment.

Azriel took three steps towards the entrance then stopped. “I’ll take you,” he turned around, backing his way to the arched stone, but keeping his eyes on you for a moment longer. “When I get back, I’ll take you flying,” he offered. Another smile etched its way across your face and Azriel took a long moment to memorize it greedily. “It’s a date,” you said confidently. He beamed then, turning on a heel to pick up into a jog, Rhys no doubt shouting to hurry up.

That date hadn’t happened though. The second war with Hybern broke out days later and you both barely made it out alive.

When Feyre had come to Velaris after Amarantha’s defeat, you’d accepted her with easy friendship. You saw Rhysand, your longtime friend, overcome with love for his newly found mate, and you couldn’t help but love her as well. You’d shared your story with her and the two of you bonded deeply over her art. She’d offered to teach you to paint, and you began taking lessons in your off time. Rhys had been Cauldron blessed with her and you reminded him daily.

Later, when Feyre’s sisters joined their little unit, you’d been the first one to break Nesta’s tough exterior. The female saw parts of herself in you and you’d gotten her to crack a smile when you mocked Rhys’ High Lord voice at dinner one night. Elain had been a tougher sell, but you’d tried, along with Azriel, to bring the female out of her shell. The day she joined you in the library to read, you knew progress had been made, even if you two had only sat in silence a few feet apart, a small smile gracing her features.

You left her book recommendations with small notes and she began to do the same. Your friendship playing out in the margins of the library’s tomes. You won her over with silent conversation. Nesta noticed, of course, and she looked to you with gratitude as she saw her sister’s eyes brightened and skin began to return to its normal, healthy color. The night Azriel mentioned it as you walked down the hall toward the dining room for the family meal, you’d shrugged. “I met her where she needed me to,” you’d said quietly, glancing to your feet. Azriel smiled, a Cauldron blessed gift indeed.

Dinners at the House of Wind were by far Azriel’s favorite version of you. You’d laugh with abandon, smile splitting your face, showing every tooth as Mor cracked a joke and leaned against you for support, one too many drinks in her system. The first time he’d seen that smile, it blinded him, and he’d gone a little dazed, staring at you in wonderment. Rhys had interrupted his train of thought with an invasive insertion of “How quickly she reduced you to a puddle, brother.” Azriel had scowled at Rhys then, mental shields firming up, but not before he heard the distinct sound of his High Lord laughing at the Spymaster’s defensiveness.

Indeed Azriel was gone for you. When Cassian finally confronted him last year about the truth of his feelings, Azriel saw no point to avoid it any longer, not after his brothers had also found their mates. “Our souls are one in the same, she’s my mate,” he’d said pensively, as if he was letting his deepest secret breath in the light for the first time in centuries. Maybe he was. He’d made Cassian promise on his life not to tell anyone, and despite being the biggest gossip in the Inner Circle, he kept his promise. He was thrilled for his brother, knowing you were the perfect match.

Little did Azriel know, everyone else was already more than aware of his affections. Amren had figured it out a century prior when Azriel had tended your needs as you’d recovered from an injury sustained during a mission. He’d fretted around you like a mother hen, buying you flowers, sweets, and books while you were bedridden. The female had watched and hummed with a raised eyebrow as Azriel exited your room for the fifth time in one day, wringing his hands with worry despite Madja’s clean bill of health.

Feyre had figured it out the same year she’d returned from the Spring Court, just before the second war with Hybern. She’d seen the way his eyes had followed you in the war room Rhys had created to host strategy meetings. Saw him lean towards you when you spoke, saw his wings flutter when you finally cast your gaze to him, eager for your attention. More than anything, she’d seen his shadows, desperate little things, sneaking across the floor each night, sidling up your ankles and wrists, begging for your affection. You always laughed and nuzzled them as the wound their way to your hair and Azriel went a little soft at the sight.

When she told Mor, the blonde had laughed, “They’ve been circling each for two hundred years now, eventually one of them will cave.” Mor leveled a sardonic look at Feyre then, “and when they do, we’ll all have to relocate to the River House for a year lest we be subject to the frenzy.”

This mission should’ve been simple. Rhys had asked you to check out reports of rogue soldiers spotted making their way towards the border of the Night Court from the Day coastline. The intel he’d received had mentioned three to four maximum, all of them drunken ex-Hybern loyalists. It should’ve been a matter of locating them, spying for a day or two, then winnowing in to neutralize any threat. Gods, this was far from simple.

When you’d arrived in the region, the hairs on your neck rose, the air itself feeling off. As you tracked them, you’d noticed intentional attempts to throw you off course. A carelessly trashed map, crudely laid tracks in the opposite direction, Dawn Court wine bottles that had been emptied and tossed about. They knew you were there, and you quickly realized that a trap had been laid. You backed off them then, staying further than you’d have liked, but trying like hell to make them think you’d given up.

On your fourth night following them, you’d drifted away to an inn two towns over, desperately seeking a place to bathe and rest, even for a few hours. As you bathed, you felt watched in a way that discomfited you to your core, and your dagger stayed within arms reach the rest of the night. Suddenly, the role you’d played for the last two hundred years had left you entirely ill equipped for whatever was happening here.

You’d left out before dawn, refusing to lose an ounce of daylight, but as you hit the tree line, readying yourself to winnow out, you’d noticed it. Hanging from a tree, a hundred yards away was a piece of clothing, your clothing. Clothing that should’ve been in the pack at your back. Your breath shuttered out of you as you opened your mind to Rhys, asking for back up. You were in over your head and you knew when to admit it. There was no pride in getting yourself killed.

As you turned to move back to the inn where you could wait out contact from Rhys in a public location, you were met with a pair of shining blue eyes. You stepped back, keeping your grounding, readying for a fight. “You’ve been following us,” the stranger said calmly, beginning to trek in a slow circle around you. You opened your mind to Rhys again, “Help,” you called. Rhys answered this time, “Where are you?!” It was a frantic response, you never asked for help, Rhys knew this. “Just off the coast, beneath the mountain range, Day court border, 400 hundred paces from the inn” you spoke to Rhys in choppy thoughts, trying to establish a location before all hell broke loose.

“I have,” you finally answered the stranger, whose lips quirked at your voice. He stopped circling and resumed his stance in front of you, blocking passage to the inn. “Why?” He asked and you tried to keep your mind steady as you answered. “You’re trespassers in these lands” you stated simply, shrugging a shoulder up. He grinned then, “had your lot not gotten in the way of our King’s plans, these would be our lands. We were promised them. I was personally promised the Court of Nightmares.”

“Well,” you shrugged feigning indifference, “that’s not how the war played out, so I will have to ask you to leave,” you offered in your most bored political tone. The same tone you’d used with High Fae that ran off at the mouth in Hewn City. The stranger cocked his head the side then, eyes twinkling, “I don’t think I will.” At that moment, one by one, additional soldiers appeared from the forest line. One, then four, then ten, until near twenty stood around you, looking on with hatred.

Shit.

“We’d hoped for the Illyrians, but it seems your High Lord sent us a treat instead,” the stranger said with mirth. You steeled your spine, looking down your nose at the stranger, “They’re going to kill you, you know.” He’d laughed at your threat. “I think not,” he said as as arrow was released from your left, finding purchase in your shoulder. You folded over on yourself at the blow, and looked up baring your teeth, before drawing your dagger and rushing the stranger with a feral sound.

Five more arrows hit you before your blade could find its target. One into your hip, two in your back, a fourth piercing your in your upper thigh, until the last burrowed into the back of your knee, bringing you down in front of him — forcing you to bow to the stranger. The arrows were laced with faebane you realized as you’d begun to feel its effects in your blood. Your power waning quickly, thoughts becoming murky.

You released another shattered thought to Rhys then, “Tell him, please,” you begged raggedly. Rhysand came back with a rushed and tight, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” You shook your head, there wasn’t time. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” He responded but it muddled out, sounding like words shouted through a pool of water, then your brain fell quiet. The line severed.

The stranger lifted your head, hand wrapped around your throat, as he bent to meet your crouched form. “I’ll be sure to savor this,” he smiled and the hilt of his sword came in fierce contact with your forehead.

It was the early morning on your fifth day away when Rhys heard you. “Help,” it had come through so clearly that it startled Rhys awake and set his heart to racing. You’d only asked for help once, during the war when you were overrun and near death. You were in danger.

He’d sat up straight in bed, Feyre still sleeping silently at his side, hand resting on her pregnant stomach. “Where are you?!” He’d asked down the line, a little frantic, remembering the state he and Azriel had found you in last time. Gods, you’d been run through on a Hybern soldier’s sword, the damage was astronomical. Azriel had nearly killed everyone within a mile radius at the sight of you.

You recited your location in short bursts and Rhys focused on the bond of your bargain, using it to locate you with more precision. He reached out to Azriel then, “Get Cassian and meet me downstairs. Be ready to fly.” Azriel responded an affirmative and Rhys rushed around his room, grabbing his dagger lined belt, and using his magic to dress in his leathers quickly. He winnowed to the base of the stairs and was glad to find Cassian and Azriel waiting.

“Tell him, please” you begged into Rhys’ mind then, words growing ragged. Rhys’ eyes slammed shut with a wince and he attempted to reassure you, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” Rhys opened his eyes and looked to Azriel, who was watching him with anticipation. You responded again, words growing murkier, a little warbled. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” Rhysand felt sick. “We will find you and you will tell him yourself,” he spoke but the bond was dead, silent, foreboding. Rhys thought he might vomit.

He looked to Azriel again, “It’s her. She’s in trouble. We have to go.” Azriel’s face darkened with a thunderous ferocity. Mother help the males who’d harmed you. “Where?” He asked, voice deep with the threat of murderous violence. “The wilds on the border, off the coast of Day. I’ll winnow us as close as possible.” Azriel nodded his acquiesce and lifted a trembling hand to his hair, running scarred fingers through the strands. Cassian spoke then, “we will get her back,” he’d said softly as Rhysand put his hands to the two of them, preparing for the jump. “And we will kill every last one of them,” Cassian added darkly as blue-black shadows encased them and they disappeared.

You awoke with a start, gasping like you’d been underwater. Your shoulders ached from your position. You pulled on your hands only to realize you were shackled to a tree somewhere deep in the forest, the same forest you’d been on the outskirts of earlier. You looked up to the sky, trying to find the sun to gauge how much time had passed. The sun had long moved past midday and was sinking towards the evening horizon. Your throat tightened. Where was Rhysand?

“Nice of you to join us,” a voice spoke. It was the stranger again, he emerged from the camp set two hundred paces to your left, hidden by shrubs and underbrush. You got a good look at him this time. He was tall, leanly muscular in a way that reminded you of Lucien Vanserra. His hair was a dishwater blonde and lacked any sheen, falling in choppy dry waves around his shoulders. His face was gaunt, eyes sunken, bruised with a lack of rest, and his cheekbones were sharp, giving his face an angle that made him look harsh and unforgiving. Though he carried himself with confidence, you noticed a slight, barely there limp in his right leg, an old wound perhaps, one that never healed correctly. You noted that for later, if you ever got out of these shackles.

You leveled a glare at him that you hoped looked more fearsome than you felt. Mother, your bones ached and your wounds throbbed. “I left the arrows in, but broke off the shaft. Didn’t want to have you healing too quickly.” He spoke with nonchalance, while polishing a dagger, your dagger, you realized as your eyes focused. You pulled at the shackles above your head, and the stranger chuckled at your attempt.

“What do you want?” Your voice croaked, mouth dry from disuse. The stranger laughed, pointing the blade at you, “I want my fucking court and you’re the key to getting it.” You shook your head then, “I am nothing.” The words sounded foreign on your tongue, a lie on some level, you knew this, but you would be damned before you gave up your family. The stranger clicked his tongue at your response, shaking his head.

“Surely you don’t believe that? The High Lord doesn’t trust easily, you’ve been seen with his entourage. The Shadowsinger’s whore.” He squatted a few feet from you, eyes tracing from your tied hands down to your face, pausing at your breasts, before trekking down your stomach, thighs, and calves. He was sizing up how much fight you had left.

Your brain had short circuited though, the Shadowsinger’s whore. Mother above, you’d never even kissed. How long had this male watched you and your family? How had none of you seen it? A bitter laugh wretched from your lungs, “sorry to disappoint, but the Shadowsinger isn’t mine.” No matter how desperately I’ve wished it so, you added silently.

The stranger grinned then, “if you are truly nothing, then I’ll make this a little sweeter.” He took steps towards you, raising the dagger to rest at your chin, the blade pressing to the underside painfully. “You’re far too pretty to be nothing.” He ran the blade along the column of your throat, resting it against your sternum, between your breasts. You pushed yourself further into the tree, back protesting as the arrows burrowed deeper with the movement. You didn’t like the new angle this interaction had taken and your fight or flight instincts were screaming.

You attempted to reach out to Rhysand, but the bond was dead silent. Your breathing hitched at the realization that you were truly alone in this. The stranger chuckled, dragging the blade down your chest, slicing the leathers, letting the fabric fall open and reveal your undergarments to his greedy view. Your legs moved to kick, but you realized quickly they too were tied. The blade came to rest at your bare stomach, and the stranger dug it in below the navel, causing blood to pool there. You winced, but made no sound.

“Ah, I was hoping you’d be louder than that,” the stranger smirked, “I’ll have to try harder.” He backed up then and pulled a whip from his back pocket, unfurling it with a crack. Your eyes widened and you brain went silent, fear overtaking your senses. “There it is,” his smile gleamed with violent delight, “there’s the reaction I was hoping for.” He reared an arm back before cracking the whip in your direction. The leather made contact with your torso, a stinging slice appearing along your rib cage. You jerked, but bit your tongue.

He cracked it again and again until you were bloody, slices in your leathers, festering wounds along your breasts, ribs, and stomach. You’d counted to 25 lashes before your brain gave out and your vision blurred from the pain. You looked up to the sky wearily. The sun was gone and the stars were slowly appearing. You smiled at them, remembering Azriel’s words from that night all those years ago.

You hoped he’d forgive you for not telling him. You hoped he’d understand your fear in revealing that secret, that the bond had snapped for you during the war. When that Hybern soldier’s sword pierced your armor, running through your body to the hilt, and he’d let out a fearsome bellow from across the field at the sight. You felt it then, the golden strumming taking the form of a fated thread linking you two. You been near death when he and Rhys had found you and the only thing you could do was smile. Such an ironic thing it was to die in the arms of your mate.

Your head lolled to the side as exhaustion threatened to overtake you. “Azriel,” your thoughts ventured, calling down the bond he didn’t even know existed, “I love you.” Darkness swam in the corners of your vision but you swore you felt his responding tug. The Mother was kind for granting that hallucinative mercy in your final hours. Your body gave out, slumping against the shackles and darkness overwhelmed you.

Azriel was furious. No, furious wasn’t the word, he was a walking time bomb. You were gone. His mate was missing and he was going to explode. As he’d arrived with Rhys and Cassian to the location you’d given them, he could smell you. His eyes searched frantically around the scene before him until they zeroed in on an item hanging from a branch a few dozen paces out. Cloth of some sort? He approached and could detect your scent on it, realizing quickly it was your clothing. A ripped cotton blouse. His fists clenched and he vaguely heard Rhysand speaking to his left. “They must’ve captured her here.” Rhys crouched down to the ground, two fingers swiping the dirt there, before bringing them eye level to examine sample. “Blood,” he muttered, rubbing the hand on the leg of his pants, “she was injured.” Azriel’s heart thundered, he was going to fucking explode.

He set his shadows work, surveying the forest with rapid precision. They’d cover more ground this way, an army of three operating like a whole infantry. By the time the sun rose to midday, Azriel was ready to begin screaming. They trekked further into the forest, following a line of smoke that was miles deep, originating at a camp somewhere far into the wilds. His shadows murmured to him of a small band of males there, of you, shackled to a fucking tree, arrows buried in your back. He’d nearly lost the contents of his stomach at the information and set to a run alongside Rhysand and Cassian.

As the three approached the encampment, the sun was nearing dusk. Rhysand had commanded the halt and strategize. There were roughly twenty-five men, all armed. They couldn’t enter this blindly and infuriated, they would lose if they weren’t careful. Azriel hated admitting he was right, his instincts screaming otherwise. Mate, mate, mate, his heart pounded.

They backed off to a thousand paces out, close enough that they could hear if the troop vacated the premises. As Rhysand and Cassian spoke quietly, Azriel felt his heart thrum. The golden thread there had pulled him closer to you and he could tell you were still alive. Though Rhys couldn’t reach out through your bargain, Azriel’s bond was still alight and warm, he stroked it with gentle affection. You might not feel it, but Gods he would try.

As the trio retraced their steps to the camp, stars were just beginning to light overhead and Azriel grasped his daggers tightly, knuckles cracking around the hilt. He was going to kill them. Kill them all brutally for taking you, for touching what was his. When they were within a stones throw from the camp he heard it, heard you. “Azriel,” you whispered into his mind. He went stock still, spine ramrod straight, fingers trembling as they gripped his knives. The golden bond vibrated in his chest, and he felt you reaching out through murky waters, against all odds. “I love you,” you said with a soft exhaustion before your side went dark. Azriel’s breathing guttered and he felt high on mirthroot, sick from fae wine, and enraged to the point of explosion all at once. His blue siphons flared brightly from the surge of power. He closed his eyes and reached out to you through the bond, tugging on the thread connecting your souls. He was coming. He was going to save you.

Rhysand looked to him then, curiosity swimming in his eyes as he took in the Shadowsinger’s sudden stop. Azriel opened eyes, irises alight with fire and shadow, voice grinding with dark threat, “Let’s go.” Rhys nodded and Cassian drew his knives.

They moved with brutal efficiency, killing male after male until none remained alive. Some had begged, others shouted and scattered their belongings as they set into a run. His shadows had caught them, twisting around their ankles and dragging them back to meet their fate, daggers slicing throats from ear to ear until blood poured like a prized hunt being slaughtered, the Illryian’s hands grasping and snapping necks like twigs. It was a practiced routine for the three of them, who’d trained since they were teens.

As they stepped through the shrubs to find you, Cassian gasped and Azriel felt his lungs threaten to collapse at the sight. You’d been shackled to a tree at the wrists and ankles and whipped within an inch your life. Wounds glistened with blood along your thighs, soft stomach, ribs, breasts. There had to be thirty lashes. A knife wound was visible at your exposed navel. Your head hung forward unconscious and Azriel’s heart pounded. He wanted to vomit and his hands shook.

“She said you’d come,” a voice said, emerging from behind the tree you were bound to. The male held a dagger to your throat. This new stranger had to be the leader of this band of idiots. Azriel’s eyes followed the tip of the blade up his arm to the male’s eyes and a growl escaped him as he bared his teeth. The male laughed, “to think she said she was nothing and yet I have both the Shadowsinger and the Lord of Bloodshed before me to save her.”

Azriel’s mind latched on to that piece of information, turning it over in his head. You’d told this male you were nothing? Did you not know Azriel would do anything for you? You were everything. You were his love, light of his life, keeper of his soul, his mate. How alone you must’ve felt, how scared. Azriel’s eyes narrowed, he was going kill him.

Rhysand spoke then, emerging from behind the two Illyrian brothers, “And may I ask why you’ve abducted a member of my court?” He was in High Lord mode, tone bored, fingers picking at his sleeve. The Hybern male’s smile gleamed at the introduction, “just who I was hoping to see!”

“Hybern, the old fool, made a few promises in his last days as King,” the male spoke, digging the blade down to your chest, where it rested over your heart. Azriel stared at the blade, eyes tracing to the the hilt. That was your blade, the one he’d given you when you first arrived in Velaris, the one you wielded against Eris, the one you kept strapped to your thigh. Your own knife had been used against you.

“One of which was that I would inherit these lands after your lot were annihilated.” Azriel wanted to laugh at the male’s words, was he serious? “A dead king cannot honor empty promises,” he ground out eyes shifting to the male’s blue eyes. “A dead and headless king cannot gift you shit,” Azriel spat. The male smiled then, a feline grin growing on his lips. “Precisely Shadowsinger, a dead king cannot give me my due, but this little thing can help.” You’d made a noise then, something akin to a whimper as you came to. Eyes wincing then fluttering open as your irises found Azriel’s immediately, some preternatural magnetism existing between the two of you. Then you looked to Cassian and Rhysand, and your eyes swam with apology.

“She awakens!” The male sang, looking to you. Azriel jumped at the opportunity to send his shadows out while the male’s attention was elsewhere. They traced over the ground to you, circling the tree and working at your binds. He sent two others towards the distracted male. “Who knew the Night Court was so attached to a whore,” the male laughed, “I want my lands,” he fixed Rhysand with a glare, “you can have your plaything back in exchange for my seat, High Lord” he sneered.

Rhysand looked from you to the stranger to the shadow now creeping ever closer to the male. “You must be mistaken,” Rhys said then and Azriel’s shadows wrapped around the male’s neck and wrist simultaneously, whispering violence for touching their mate, forcing the dagger from his grasp and air from his lungs. Azriel tightened them until they heard bones crack in the male’s arm and choked sounds exit his throat, face reddening as oxygen was cut off. “I do not make deals with dim witted cunts,” Rhysand said darkness beginning to surround him, High Lord voice encroaching, “I do not entertain terrorists and I do not take kindly to threats on my family.”

‘Finish him,’ Rhysand said darkly into Azriel’s mind and the Shadowsinger moved with lightening precision, dagger find purchase as the male’s neck was sliced open and his right hand was removed from his body. The male’s body toddled forward with a choked gurgling, before falling to the ground, lifeless, blood pooling.

Azriel’s gaze fell to you and he softened. His shadows finished picking the lock of the shackles that held your arms and they clicked open, allowing your body to fall into his. “Azriel,” you breathed, voice weary with exhaustion, “I didn’t— I—“ you stuttered, pulling a shaking hand to his face. You swallowed, tracing his cheek with trembling fingers, “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” you murmured, your watery eyes searching his face, memorizing the details of his visage.

Azriel picked you up in his arms and unfurled his wings protectively. “I will always come for you,” he said vehemently, eyes watching your face with intensity. You smiled, a weepy trembling smile as you nodded. Rhysand reached the Shadowsinger’s side then and your eyes moved to his violet ones, “Hi Little One, I’m so sorry we’re late.” You let out a single watery laugh before wincing as the sudden expansion of your chest burned the wounds littering your chest and back.

“The arrows,” you gasped, “at my back,” you twisted in Azriel’s hold, “please get them out.” Rhysand leaned down to inspect the wounds. “Faebane,” he surmised, that’s why his connection to you had been severed. “We need to get her to Madja, now.” Azriel nodded, allowing Rhys and Cassian to move closer so the High Lord could winnow them home.

Landing back at the House of Wind had been chaotic. Rhysand shouted immediately to get every healer available and the dining room table had been lined with a sheet, turning the warm family room into a medical ward. You were laid facedown on the table and Azriel took to your side, scarred hands touching your face, keeping you awake as Madja worked to remove the six arrows burrowed in your body.

You’d screamed. The sound would haunt Azriel for centuries. You begged to make it stop and Madja had apologized softly as she worked faster to remove them while minimizing damage. “I’ve got you,” Azriel said softly, “eyes on me, alright?” He rubbed the hollow under your eye with a scarred thumb and you opened your eyes to lock on his. “No gloves,” you said, smiling tightly, before wincing as Madja applied local anesthetic to an arrow wound. Azriel smiled, eyes a little watery. “Not with you,” he whispered shaking his head, “never with you.” You smiled at him and the sight set Azriel’s heart to fluttering.

Later, after the arrows had been removed and wounds bandaged, you’d been given a strong herb tonic for pain that set your head swimming as exhaustion overtook you. Azriel carried you his room, laying you gently onto the mattress and covered you with the duvet. He leaned down then, breathing in your scent as he placed a kiss to your forehead, nuzzling his nose to the Winter white hair there. He would tell you. When you awoke, he would bare his soul to you.

You woke with a groan. Fucking Gods, your body ached with the effort it took to roll over. “Easy,” a voice came from the corner of the room. Your breath gasped out of you as your eyes raced to the figure there. “Azriel,” you breathed. The male smiled warmly at you and stepped forward to rest at the edge of the mattress. You pushed up in the bed, the wound at your shoulder screaming from the exertion. Once in a sitting position, you rested your back on the headboard as you looked at him. “For taking out a small militia, you seemed to be decently uninjured,” you said smiling tightly, memories of the stranger and his whip haunting your mind. He snorted a small laugh, “Yes well,” he looked down then, thumbs fiddling with each other, chest heating, “I had something worth fighting for.”

He looked back to you and your cheeks had grown pink, a small pleased smile at your lips. “I heard you, you know,” he said softly, turning enough to rest a hand on your thigh, thumb drawing small, soothing circles there. The heat generated in the touch sent a spark to your belly. Oh, you were fucked. “I heard you in my head, through the bond,” he said eyes watching his thumb as it traced on your bare skin hypnotically.

“You know then?” You whispered, breath skittering out of you. You were scared to death of the trajectory the conversation was taking, your heart preparing for the best and the worst simultaneously. Azriel’s eyes dragged up your form to your face and a smile broke over his lips, one that caused your heart to ignite. Your Mother had once told you the heart was an organ of fire and you’d laughed, never having cause to believe such a statement. You understood now.

“I—“ Azriel started, before clearing his throat, turning his body to face you in full, a knee pulled up on the mattress, touching yours. “In the whole time I have known you— two centuries, Little One,” he looked at you pointedly, “you have been my dearest friend, my greatest comfort, my confidant, and the person I admire most in this Gods forsaken world.” He breathed deeply, a whoosh exiting his lips as his hand tightened around your thigh. “The times when you were lost to me have been some of the most painful moments I’ve experienced.”

Your eyes began to water, and you moved a hand to rest atop his own, thumb circling the scarred skin at his wrist. He took a breath then and the air shifted between you, his mouth opening and closing, as if he was gathering his confidence for what he was about to say next. “I have loved for you so long that I’d given up all hope of reciprocation.” The words shattered through you as all air escaped your lungs, guts swooping down as heat alighted there. “I felt the bond the night Eris came for you,” he continued, eyes watching your entwined hands. Your body went still and a startled laugh exited your mouth. Azriel’s eyes flew to yours questioningly.

“Sorry,” you chuckled again, “I’m just realizing how fucking stupid we’ve been.” You lolled your to the side, watching him with loving eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for almost two centuries, Azriel,” you smiled, “I thought you wouldn’t want me.” Azriel’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief, two then three times. You thought for a second to compare him to the guppy fish that swam in schools along the banks of the Sidra but refrained.

He pushed forward then, hands coming to cup your face, pinky and ring fingers resting in the hollow below your ear, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “How could I not? You’re everything,” he whispered, searching your face, conviction showing in his eyes. You couldn’t stop the smile that overtook your mouth as you spoke, “and you’re my mate.” His eyes moved to your lips, glazing before they moved back to your eyes. “As you are mine,” he spoke confidently.

Your eyes watched each other for a long second, “I really hope you’ll kiss me this time,” your hand trailed up his arm, fingers teasing. “Mother knows I’ve been dreaming of it for far too long.” He surged forward, lips meeting yours and you thought you might float away. You gasped and his tongue moved in, claiming your mouth, your taste with his own.

He pulled away minutes later, a little breathless, “Sorry to have kept you waiting, my love,” he spoke, resting his forehead to yours with a smile, watching your dazed expression, pink cheeks, as your lips split into a grin. Your hand moved to the front of his button down, fisting in the material there, giving an experimental tug. “Kiss me like that again and I’ll consider forgiving you.”

The laugh that came out of him was golden, and you pushed yourself to memorize it. Azriel, Lord of Shadows, Spymaster for the Night Court, Rhysand’s right hand and Illyrian warrior was soft for you. He loved you. He was your mate. You’d be giddy about it for the rest of your life.

Your healing had been slower than you would’ve liked. The faebane had done serious damage but with Madja’s help, the scarring was minimized. The lashes at your front took two weeks to heal, the arrow wounds took three. Three fucking weeks. Meanwhile all you could think about was your mate. He hadn’t left your side in the interim. Helping you take steps, applying the wound creams that Madja had left in small glass pots, keeping you fed, making you laugh, telling you how much he loved you daily. Mother above, you were going to ruin this male.

You walked into the kitchen at the end of week three, the only evidence of your wounds now in the slight limp of your right leg and twinge in your left shoulder. The marks at your stomach and chest had diminished into barely there, silver scores. Cassian was sitting at the small table in the corner as you entered. “Hi Cass,” you greeted, “seen my mate around this morning?” It was fun calling him that, a small part of your chest swelling with pride each time.

Cassian smirked, “He’s been…… out.” Your eyes narrowed, he was being evasive. “Out where?” You asked, grabbing an apple and hopping up on the counter to watch the male. He shrugged, “No idea, Little One.” You smirked, “I know where you sleep Cassian,” you started, “is it really wise to lie to me?” Nesta strode into the kitchen, “What’s he done now?” She asked laughing. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve done nothing!” The male exclaimed, “She’s interrogating me on the whereabouts of her maaate.” He dragged out the vowel of the last word mockingly. Nesta took her seat next to Cassian and laughed, “Ah, him.” She looked to you then, “he’ll be around to collect you soon.”

You looked between the two, suspicion dripping from your features as you took another bite from the apple in your palm. “You two are being weird,” you stated. Nesta shrugged, nudging Cassian who smiled at her. “Just wait,” she said softly, “maybe cook yourself a meal.” Cassian’s mouth quirked with a laugh he restrained. “Right, I’m leaving, cause whatever this is,” you waved a hand at them, “is deeply odd.” You hopped off the counter and strolled to the exit. You heard them laughing softly once you were out of the room, making you roll your eyes at their antics.

You’d gone to the library after leaving the kitchen and found Elain already there. Her eyes moved to you upon your entrance and she closed her book, middle finger marking her spot. “How are you feeling?” She asked softly, eyes surveying your body for lingering damage. You sighed, falling into the sofa across from her. “I’m better,” you said quietly, “the pain is gone, scars are minimal.” You turned your eyes to her, she looked brighter than the last time you’d seen her. “How are you?” You asked in return. She smiled sweetly. “Better,” she echoed you and you wanted to laugh. “I’ve been exchanging letters with Lucien,” she added and your ears perked up.

“That’s great, Elain,” you rest your chin on a closed fist, watching her. She shifted and sat her book to the side, page forgotten. “I want to tell you something,” she said quietly, fingers twiddling with each other. She looked... nervous? “I’m all ears,” you said softly.

“I had a vision while you were gone,” she started and took a deep breath. “It was so muddled at first, I couldn’t tell who it was, but then I saw you. Your hair was longer, you stood taller, and your belly was round.” The breath left your body in a powerful exhale. She looked to you again, eyes watching yours, “You were pregnant and happy and in love,” she said quietly, as if the words in themselves were fragile. Your hands trembled and you moved them under your thighs, her eyes didn’t miss the action.

“I couldn’t understand why the Mother would send me a vision like that, I saw Feyre’s pregnancy, but we’re sisters, you know?” You nodded. “Then I realized I recognized the tattooed arm I’d seen wrap around you, knew it was Azriel.” Your eyes watered, and you hiccuped out a small laugh. “I’ve known for a while you two were fated, but the Mother was telling me for certain. I hope you know how happy we are for you.” She finished and moved to sit next you, small hand touching your knee.

“When they brought you in that night, I thought the Mother had lied to me, that it was a vision of what could have been, that you wouldn’t make it.” You’d never heard Elain speak at length in this way, and you thought you might stop breathing. “I’ve never been happier to see you than when Azriel brought you in to read days later, my sweet friend.” You surged forward, throwing your arms around the female and she returned the gesture warmly.

You sat back and looked at her then. “Thank you,” you said, voice small, a little watery. She nodded before turning to resume her original spot at the end of the sofa, picking up her book and opening it to the page she’d left off.

In the hours that followed, you’d returned to the kitchen, grateful to find Cassian and Nesta had left. You took Nesta’s advice, gathering the ingredients to build a small berry tart. It had just gone in the oven when your mate appeared in the doorway.

“Hello love,” he said casually, leaning against the door jamb. You startled, turning on your heel to find him smiling at you. “Where have you been?” You asked walking towards him and running your hands around his midsection in a hug, head resting against his chest. His arm came around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your hair, breathing in your scent. “That, my dearest one, is a surprise.”

You looked up chin resting against his chest, watching his face. “It’d better be good, I baked for you,” you said, smiling softly at the Spymaster. His eyes moved to the oven then and back to you, irises darkening, as his pupils blew a little wide. “You… baked?” He asked disbelieving, “didn’t know you knew how to bake,” he followed up playfully. You gasped and shoved him, “for that, you can starve, have fun finding another mate to bake for you.” He laughed heartily and caught your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, eyes swimming with warm affection as he pressed a kiss there. Gods, the action made lust swoop in your stomach, heat spreading.

“The fool I’d be to turn away such a female,” he said, voice deepening, lips running across your knuckles with each word. “Azriel” you breathed. “Yes?” He offered in return, still smiling, moving your knuckles back and forth against his hot mouth. “Please tell me this surprise involves you bedding me.” A growl creeped out of his throat, the thought of you under him sending lust racing down his spine and to his groin.

“It might,” he said quietly, lips resuming their exploration, tracking small kisses from your knuckles, to the joint of your thumb, the inside of your wrist where Rhys’ tattoo lingered, up the soft skin of your arm, to your elbow, until he reached the skin of your shoulder. His lips traced over the raised skin there, a small nip above the scar as he traced north to your collarbone. You’d gone to putty in his hands, head rolling to the side to bare your throat. He pressed soft kisses there, pausing at your pulse point to trace the area with his warm tongue, a whimper escaping your mouth.

“If this is going to become a regular thing, I’ll need you two to relocate to the River House,” a voice came from behind you and you jumped in shock, but your mate, he let out a possessive growl before turning on the intruder. Rhysand laughed airily and folded his arms over his chest. “Easy, brother,” he smiled, causing Azriel to roll his eyes. You blinked a little dazed, and pulled away from the Shadowsinger. “You’re gonna make me burn my fucking tart,” you shoved him with an arm and laughed as you turned to resume your place at the oven.

Azriel instructed you to dress comfortably and be ready in a hour as he kissed your knuckles one last time and exited the kitchen. Butterflies roamed freely in your stomach at the thought of what he had planned. You’d returned to your quarters after removing the tart from the oven and portioning it into a small travel sized container. You were going to accept the bond, and your nerves were alight with anxious excitement. After you dressed in a lightweight linen dress, you packed a small bag with your remaining creams, and the boxed tart you’d prepared earlier.

You descended the stairs to find Azriel waiting at the base, his wings standing proudly behind him, shadows skittering around his feet. At the sight of you they raced to meet on the bottom step, running up your legs, around your waist and into your hair. A laugh escaped you as one nuzzled into the space behind your ear. Azriel watched fondly. “They love you,” he said smiling, taking a step to meet you, “ever since the bond snapped, I’ve had the hardest time reining them back from touching you.”

You reached a hand out to meet his, interlacing your fingers. “They’re cute, but you’re cuter,” you said with gentle affection. A shadow pinched at your waist and Azriel’s cheeks went a little pink as he laughed.

“Will you tell me what the surprise is?” You asked as he walked you toward the training balcony. “I’m afraid I’m very poorly dressed for training,” you joked. He snorted, “no, we’re not training.” He came to rest at the railing and then turned to you, running a hand up your arm, fingers moving to hold the back of your neck, warm palm heating the skin there, thumb grazing your jawline. “Amongst many things I’ve been terribly late for recently, I realize I owe you a date.”

Your face went a little puzzled and you looked to his eyes. “A date?” You questioned. He nodded, “I was supposed to take you flying.” Realization dawned on your features and a smile overtook your lips, each tooth shining in the setting sun. “I wanted to kiss you that night too,” you admitted laughing, remembering how desperate you’d been for his touch and attention. He smiled softly, “you have no idea how angry I was with Rhys for calling me away.” Your eyes widened, still in disbelief that this male wanted you return. It seemed both a millennia in the making and still so new and fragile.

Azriel snuck an arm around your waist and brought you up into the stretch of his firm body. His other hand tracing down your hip, then thigh, to curve under your knees as he picked you up. His wings unfurled and he shot into the air. A shaky laugh startled out of you and you gripped him tighter, your arms winding around his neck. His wings flapped in thunderous bursts, taking you higher, until you could see the entirety of Velaris spread below, the Sidra flowing like a snake through the winding city. Your breath left you in awe. “The Peregryn was right,” you said loud enough for him to hear and he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The flight was short, but it took you to the rural banks of the Sidra on the outskirts of the city, just before it emptied into the sea. You could see ships sailing into the harbor, moonlight beginning to trickle across the water. This was undeniably special, you thought, no one would see you up here and you felt like this was the edge of the world itself. You turned to Azriel, finding his eyes already watching you. “Thank you,” you said softly, leaning into him, his chin meeting your forehead as you moved your body to rest alongside the length of his. His hand came to rest at the small of your back, pinky stretching to graze the curve of your bottom. Wherever this was going, you were very interested.

He turned and grasped your hand, pulling you back up the hill and away from the view, towards a field of wildflowers and grasses. There, in the middle, a blanket had been laid out, small candles lit to illuminate the setting. A basket sat in one corner, a bottle of fae wine held within with an assortment of pastries, breads, and cheeses. You realized quickly that your mate, the male you’d loved for damn near two centuries, was courting you. The thought thrilled you.

He led you to the blanket and motioned for you to sit next him. “I must confess, I never took you for a romantic,” you said looking from the candles, to the basket, and then to him. He was watching you again. He smiled, laughing a bit nervously, “I’m a lot of things,” he said and your eyebrow quirked. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenged him and he loved you for it. You made him feel easy to love, you made loving fun and freeing. Azriel had once only thought freedom could be found in fucking and flying, then he’d found you and he knew it was there too. In the smile of your lips, in the thrill of your touch, in the ease of your love.

“Well,” he started, moving his wings to lean into you, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder. The action caused you to shiver. “I’m a spymaster.” You snorted, “no shit.” A laugh rumbled in his chest. “I’m a bit shy as you well know, I’m quite fond of dancing, I’m—” he hummed the last letter, pausing his thoughts and moving his lips up your neck. “I’m in love with you,” he said biting into the flesh at the juncture of your collarbone and throat, cock hardening at the sound that rolled out of your mouth. “I’m going to take you right here, on this blanket, under the stars.”

You gasped, your hands moved find purchase in the hair at the back of his head, fingers winding through the strands, nails dragging at his scalp. His nose ran the length of your jawline before his lips found yours. He rumbled a small hum the instant his mouth touched your own. At first it was a gentle press, teasing you as he had done today in the kitchen at the House of Wind. The adrenaline racing up your spine made you feel like you might vibrate out of your skin. His hand reached up then, threading broad fingers into your hair as he took the kiss deeper. Tonguing the bottom of your lip until your mouth opened, his tongue stroking your own. Humming with contentment, he tilted your head, deepening the kiss at a new angle that had heat swooping down to your core.

You brought your left hand to his shoulder, fisting your fingers in the fabric there and pulling him closer. He understood your intention and leaned you back into the blanket, pleasure alighting each nerve as his body pressed into your own. He eased up on your lips and began a slow trek south, pulling the strap of your dress down the curve of your shoulder, leaving a love bite there that had you gasping. He kissed down the bust line of the dress, laving his tongue at the swell of your breast. Your breath was coming in pants and you pressed yourself up on your elbows as he moved further south, fingertips tracing the hem of your dress that had risen to the middle of your thigh.

He looked back to you and smiled, mischief playing in his eyes as he ran his hands up your thighs, the slow drag pulling the dress with it. “I’ve been thinking about your cunt for centuries,” he said, his lips on your knee, pressing insistently as they moved north. “I’ve been dreaming of making you come on my tongue since I met you.”

Your breath leaves you in one fell swoop as you feel his tongue at the juncture of your hip and thigh. His mouth was insistent at skin there, tonguing the lace of your panties before pulling them down your legs and off entirely. He picked up a foot, placing it to his chest as he traced the long line of your body with hungry eyes. You were panting already, dressed rucked up around your waist, straps fallen down your arms and breasts heaving. His gaze flowed south and landed on your pink cunt, glistening, begging for him. His eyes went back to your face then, and his titled his head to the side, “Will you let me eat your pretty little cunt?” He asked fingertips tracing the scars of your calf with reverence. He brought your foot up, kissing the inside of the ankle, then nosing his way over your scarred calf, suckling at the skin there. “Please,” he added, eyes moving back to yours as his mouth continued his ministrations.

“Mother above, Azriel,” you breathed and a laughed startled out of you, “you are mouthy.” He chuckled darkly then, nipping at your knee, taking special care to press a gentle kiss at the new scar there. “Is that a no then?” He said softly and your head fell back with a groan, exposing your neck to his view. “As if,” you said, head pulling back up and lolling to the side to rest on your shoulder. “I’ve thought about it too, and if you back out now I will explode.” He laughed again, freely this time, forehead resting on your thigh.

His eyes find yours again, and he kept them there as he traced his lips north. He nosed the juncture of your cunt and inner thigh, running a tongue along your mound. You gasped and eyes narrowed, watching him with rapt attention. He pressed a kiss to the top of your slit and his hands come up to open you to him, pulling the lips apart and tonguing the collected moisture there. Your head fell back as your elbows gave way, falling flat against the blanket.

“You taste better than I imagined,” he said before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The moan that left you had his hips pushing into the ground to find relief as his cock begged for release. His tongue flicked against your clit as he sucked and hummed. He thought this might become his favorite place in all of Prythian. He thought that every bad thing that had happened in his life seemed insignificant now that he was able to worship freely between your thighs. He traced fingers up and paused to wet them on his tongue, before pushing his middle and ring finger in to the second knuckle, pulling them out and scissoring them back in again. His tongue found your sweet little button for a second time that night and he laved at it, listening to your cries as he pushed you to the brink. Azriel’s life had been a nightmare, but between your thighs, mouth on your cunt, walls fluttering around his fingers, he thought he’d been blessed by the Mother herself.

Your hips rocked up in time with his fingers and you cried as your gut twisted, the coil there tightening. “Az-“ you gasped. “Azriel,” you went a little whiny on the vowels of his name, and your hand reached down to thread your fingers into his hair, nails scratching and tugging the strands. He hummed, the vibration sending shocks up your spine. “Azriel, baby,” you gasped, coming up on an elbow again, rutting your hips into his face as he took you higher. He didn’t let up, suckling at your cunt, fingers finding the spongy spot on the backside of your clit that made the world go blank “Azriel!” you gasped again, hips stuttering out, “Fuck, fuck— oh.” In seconds you were reaching your peak, hips faltering, thighs twitching, toes curling into the hard planes of his back.

He pulled his mouth off of you, pressing kisses to your pubic bone as he moved north up your stomach. He eyes were alight with desire, the male was pure want and you were his last meal. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and trailed them up to rest at your neck as he slotted his body between your thighs and kissed you. The hedonism of tasting yourself on his mouth made you wetter, cunt pressing into the hard line of his cock, still restricted in his trousers. He moaned at the contact, mouth leaving yours to rest his head against your chin and gather himself. The sound sent a pleasurable shock directly to your core. You grasped the hand at your throat and brought his fingers up and to your mouth, tongue laving at them before taking them to the knuckle, and pulling back slow, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, keeping your eyes on his. He bared his teeth the sight and ground his hard cock into you, the friction on your clit making your thighs twitch.

“My sweet little mate,” he cooed. “Love of my life,” he nosed your cheek, his fingers still in your mouth. “All my dreaming has been put to shame it would seem,” he pulled his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue, his hands flying to his belt. He growled in struggle and you ventured a laugh. His eyes found yours and his jaw ticked, “keep laughing, sweet girl, I’ll fuck your throat next and you won’t come.” Your eyes went a little wide and a feline grin appeared on your face. “Mouthy indeed,” you said with glee as he finally got the buckle undone and pushed the pants down and off.

His shirt went next and your fingers traced up his exposed arms to his shoulders. “I’ve seen you shirtless a dozen times, and you still take my breath away,” you said softly, a hand resting on his pectoral. He laughed and went a little pink, before he pushed your dress up your body and over your head, leaving you bare. “I’ve always been impressed by your ability to so disarming,” he said, mouth finding the space above your breast as his hands came to cup them, fingers toying with the nipples. “It’s my favorite thing about you, you see me in a way I can’t even see myself,” he followed up.

Your eyes watered at the admission and your hands found his face, bringing his mouth back to yours as you kissed him again, tongue entwining with his. Your hands grasped his shoulders, as your leg found his hip and you pushed him over, onto his back. Your hands came to rest on his chest as you settled your weight on his lower abdomen. You could feel his manhood standing to attention, insistent at the curve of your ass and you reached around to grasp it, pushing your chest out for his greedy eyes. Taking him in long strokes, you ran your hand up and down, circling your thumb around the head. His eyes screwed shut as his breathing shallowed.

“Wanna know a secret, baby?” You offered, rocking your hips in time with your strokes. He whined then, the Lord of Shadows keened a little whine for you that had you ready to come right there. “Last time we hosted a gala, that night before Hybern,” you were panting, “all I could think about was taking you to bed.” His eyes opened and hazel was gone blacked out in pure desire. His hands found your hips and his own began to move in time with you. “I thought about riding you,” you said, twisting your hand in a way that had his breath guttering out of him. “I thought you might love me in the way you looked at me.” His eyes softened and he leaned up, hands tracing up your spine as he pressed kisses to your chest.

“I loved you that night and every night since,” he said before tonguing a nipple and sucking it into his mouth. “That dress you wore, my color, had me hard for a week.” You laughed then removing your hand from his cock and bringing both to his face, so you could kiss him. His hands slipped to your ass then, palming the cheeks as his tongue moved in tandem with yours. When you moved back from him, a string of salvia still connected you two, you reached up to comb fingers through his hair gently.

“I brought you something,” you said quietly, looking to the corner of the quilt where your bag had dropped ages ago. His brow furrowed, confusion showing in his features. “You don’t have to, but I brought some of that tart. If you want,” you offered the statement nervously, as if there was still a chance for rejection. Azriel’s heart went soft and his brain turned to mush.

“You want to accept it?” He questioned, hands sliding up your back and to your waist. You smiled and looked at him incredulously, “Of course I want to accept it, it feels like I’ve waited a millennia for you.” You’d laughed a bit and that feeling of home raced through him again. Gods, he was fucked.

You leaned off his lap, pulling the strap of your bag to you and unzipped it. There, packaged in a little glass container, lay a small slice of the berry tart you’d fretted over earlier in the day. “Nesta made some stupid comment about ‘cooking’ when I’d asked where you were,” you laughed in hindsight at the female’s leading words. “She knew because Cassian knew, he helped me with the food and candles,” Azriel murmured pushing your hair up and over your shoulder.

He pulled the container from your grasp then and opened it before picking the pastry up with his fingers, the same fingers that had been inside you minutes ago. Eyes on yours he took the first bite, your heart thrumming as the golden thread of your bond lit up like the sunrise. His eyes never left yours as he consumed the pastry in four bites, swallowing and pulling his fingers into his mouth at the remaining sweetness there.

The bond between you two was shining, strong and thrumming with love. ‘Hi,’ you tried, your thoughts reaching out to him. He smiled, laughing freely, and his voice came through clearly, ‘Hi, Little One.’ You choked out a laugh, eyes watering as you leaned forward to kiss him, tasting the berries on his tongue. ‘Can I make love to my mate now?’ He questioned down the bond and you laughed again. His hands were already tracing your hips as you leaned forward, hand reaching underneath to guide him into your cunt. Lowering yourself down, you rocked forward once then twice in order to take him to the hilt.

Mother above, he was big. His cock was thick and filled you wholly, pushing against your cervix making your eyes flutter in pleasure. You thought of the comment Mor had made about wingspan once decades ago and you heard him laugh, “I’m flattered, truly,” he said playfully, reading your thoughts and nipping at your shoulder.

You rose up again and set to riding him slowly, hips moving in long strokes as his hands traced your ass, pulling at the flesh there in time with your movements. You gave a experimental squeeze of your walls, and he keened a loud moan that had you speeding up your flow. “You keep that up, Little One and I won’t last,” he panted at your throat. “That’s rather the point,” you laughed breathlessly, your own hand moving to cup your breast, the other sliding down to circle your clit. His eyes traced the view greedily, moving down to the point where you connected, watching your cunt take him in full, his cock glistening with your shared wetness. He bared his teeth at the sight, a rumble lighting in his chest.

Just as your walls began to flutter with your impending orgasm, he grasped you and flipped you to your back, pulling your hands from your body and entwining your fingers with his own on each side of your head. He ground his pelvis in deep and your legs hitched higher around his waist. “Azriel, fucking Gods,” you called out at the switch in angle, the tip of his cock grinding into your cervix. He hummed at your throat, teeth marking you there as his hips pulled out and pushed in, grinding each time he bottomed out into you. His wings flared behind him and you thought you’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

“You take me so well, my love,” he panted, “you were made for me.” You whined then, cunt fluttering around him as he bottomed out deep and held it there, grinding his pubic bone into your clitoris. The pleasure raced up your spine and you thought you’d never be able to leave this place, might have to keep him inside you forever. He growled, reading your thoughts. “You want me to fuck this cunt forever?” He asked aloud leaning up, pulling his hands from yours.

You whined at the loss, but the sound died as he pulled your legs up his waist to his shoulders, kissing the scarred calf. He drew his cock out, only to slam back in. “Fuck,” you moaned out, voice going up two octaves. “You want me between your thighs for the rest of my days?” He said again, hips moving faster, your hands moving to your tits as they bounced from the impact. His eyes watched the movement and he bared his teeth again, turning his head to bite into the flesh of your calf.

“Azriel!” You called out again, pleasure zipped up your spine and you felt your stomach tighten. “Az, baby, I’m so close.” He chuckled darkly. “Be a good girl and come on my cock,” he said as his fingers traced down your leg to find your clit, rubbing the bundle in quick, timed circles. “Az- I-,” you barely got the words out before your orgasm overtook you, a long moan exiting your mouth as your cunt tightened around him, he ground into you and worked you through it, before dropping your legs back to his hips and pistoning deeper.

“My sweet mate,” he gasped at the skin of your throat, mouth tracing up to find yours, hands finding purchase on your thighs as he pulled you open, allowing him dive deeper. “My darling love,” he moaned and his tongue moved with yours, your hips pushing up to meet his thrusts, walls fluttering against his velvet length with the remnants of your orgasm.

You ventured your hand up his shoulder to the base of a wing and traced your fingers up the membrane to the bone. His eyes twisted shut, and he keened a low primal whine that had your cunt ready to come again. At the tightening of your walls, he groaned dark and deep, shadows seeping from him, as he pushed in, grinding against the innermost portion of you. His hips pulled out slightly and then pushed back in as his cock kicked, come spurting against your walls. He panted against your throat as his hands released their hold on your thighs and moved up your body before grasping your throat. He moved up to lean over you and his eyes found your own. He gave an experimental thrust of his hips and your eyes widened. Fucking Cauldron, he was still hard.

He laughed then, nuzzling at your mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip. “I’m giving you five,” his voice was deeper than you’d ever heard it, “and then I’m eating my come from your cunt and fucking you until the sun comes up.”

You gasped out a laugh as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. ‘They call it frenzy for a reason,’ you thought, kissing along his cheekbone and to his mouth. Gods, you were fucked.

2K notes · View notes

imagine-you · 3 months ago

Text

closer to where I started [Logan/Reader]

Summary: Sequel to won't somebody come take me home? All you want to do is shake off the memories of the past and move forward with your Logan, but an old friend of Wade's threatens to disrupt everything. It turns out your universe isn't quite through with you and neither is the person who hurt you. You'll not only have to fight a new enemy, but you'll also have to rescue the Logan who broke your heart. Of course, your Logan would never let you go without him, and he's also hellbent on making sure the other Logan knows you've moved on. Word Count: 11.1k Author's Note: This fic may contain: protective Logan, protective Wade, Cable, crazy amounts of pop culture references courtesy of Wade, surprise cameos!, jealous Logan, rescue missions, possessive behavior, and some spice (in that case, minors DNI.)

When I'm With You I'm Home 'verse

won't somebody come take me home? // all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

Read On AO3

Life post-Void proved to be in turns exhilarating and challenging. Now, you were in an entirely different universe and with a completely different team. You had a family, dysfunctional and crazy, but still yours. And of course, most important of all, you had Logan.

The two of you were still navigating the first few unsure steps of your relationship. You were falling more and more in love with him with every passing second, and you couldn't help but catalog all the little differences that set him apart from the first Logan in your life. The other Logan, as you had started to think of him.

Before, you were used to an empty bed after sex and feeling like you were having to coerce the other Logan into anything approaching a meaningful conversation. Now, the new Logan in your life, the better Logan, pulled you close after you were both spent and held you all night long. He let you talk about whatever came to mind and offered his own feelings and views without ever once making you feel like he was merely tolerating having a conversation with you.

The other Logan never wanted to go out or spend any quality time together. He never brought you gifts or remembered your favorite foods or any other little thing that might have shown you he cared about you. Your Logan cooked for you and bought your favorite dessert and showed how much he truly cared about you in every tiny little interaction.

You navigated past awkward first dates into other stages of your relationship. You got to know your Logan, really know him, and that was something you never felt with the other Logan. You were always left unsure, wanting, longing with the other Logan, but your Logan made sure you were completely confident and fulfilled with your relationship.

Best of all, your Logan believed in you. In your universe, you had been relegated to the b-team of the X-Men, but now you felt like a valued member of whatever Wade called his team. Be it X-Force or X-Men adjacent, you knew that you could trust them, and they would have your back. You knew they didn't think your powers were useless and actually counted on you to help them. Logan had made sure of that.

"So, this Negasonic Teenage Warhead, and that's actually her name, you're sure?" You checked with Wade, waiting for his nod of agreement, before continuing. "She wants our help because your large metal friend is in trouble."

"Colossus, sure," Wade confirmed, checking over the guns he was bringing with him.

"Who's he even fighting?" You thought a guy who was solid steel would have trouble finding an enemy he couldn't just knock out with a punch.

"Some douchenozzle named Riptide, apparently," Wade informed you with a shrug of his shoulders. "He spins around and throws bones out of his body or something," he continued, sounding unbothered by the sheer absurdity of his words.

"Great," Logan huffed, keeping his eyes on the road. "We've got a human tornado on the loose."

When Logan pulled the car to a stop in the middle of a ruined street, you thought he wasn't too far off in his description. Cars were twisted on their sides and blood was splattered across various surfaces. Windows had shattered and stores were missing walls. You couldn't see anyone at first, but then you realized what you thought was another piece of a car was actually Wade's friend.

"There," you told him, pointing towards Colossus. He was currently lying in a crater, but you could see that he was slowly beginning to move.

"Fret not, my robust metal friend, I'm here to save your day," Wade called as he got out of the car.

You heard Colossus groan, and you couldn't even tell if it was because he was in pain or because of Wade.

"Think I can just drive away?" Logan asked, glancing over at you. "We can just leave him here, right? How long do you think it'll take before he shows up again?"

"Knowing Wade? Not very long," you answered, leaning over to press a kiss to Logan's cheek. "Let's get out there and do some vigilante shit or whatever Wade calls it."

"Trademark T-Swift!" Wade called, nodding approvingly at you.

"For fuck's sake," Logan groaned, before he slipped his cowl over his head and got out of the car. You felt a smirk tug at your lips at the sight before you and opted to stay in the car for just a moment as you watched Logan approach Wade and Colossus. He was starting to unsheathe his claws, and you couldn't help but take him in in all his glory.

That was another thing that your Logan was better at than the other Logan. You mentioned once that you found him sexy in the cowl and now he wore it every time you had to fight a bad guy.

You tried to tamp down on your grin as you got out of the car. When you approached the group, it sounded a lot like Wade was trying to get information out of Colossus.

“What the hell happened here? Did you eat Taco Bell again?” Wade asked, reaching out to pat Colossus’ stomach.

Colossus reached out to halt Wade’s touch. “The Riptide is a formidable opponent,” he answered.

You noticed a man dressed in a suit beginning to approach you and the others.

"Is that our guy?" You asked, pointing towards the man.

"Yes," Colossus confirmed with a solemn nod of his head. "And who are you?" He wondered, frowning at you.

"Y/N," you introduced yourself, holding out your hand for him to shake. You were intimidated by how huge and heavy his hand felt, but the gentle way he shook your hand put you at ease.

"Piotr Rasputin," he offered in return.

"Rasputin? I used to know a girl with that last name," you mused as you watched Riptide approach. You could see him begin to spin, gaining momentum and speed as he got closer.

"Stay back," Piotr warned, shaking his head. "Riptide is very deadly. He's already killed several today."

Piotr tensed his shoulders before running towards Riptide, only to be knocked back again.

"Oh, get up, you're embarrassing me," Wade hissed, reaching out to help Piotr up. "You took on the Juggernaut!" Wade reminded Piotr, grabbing him by the shoulders and attempting to shake some sense into him. "And you're telling me you can't take this walking Beyblade? Get back in there!" Wade commanded before giving Piotr a slap on the ass.

Piotr grumbled something under his breath before starting to approach Riptide again. As Riptide got closer, Piotr planted his feet and attempted to stay in place. You could see flakes of metal begin to chip off as he was pushed backwards and you realized that Riptide would rip Piotr apart if something wasn't done.

"Okay, new plan," Wade decided, pulling free one of his guns. He shot at Riptide, but every bullet was deflected, since he was spinning too fast for them to hit. "Fuck!" He barked before dropping the guns and grabbing his katana that had been strapped to his back. "Maximum effort," he grunted before running into battle.

Logan lowered himself to the ground before charging at Riptide. You saw him try to leap at Riptide, but he was thrown back, taking out a partially crumbled wall with him. Deadpool had managed to get a little closer, but it was only because you realized he was getting pulled in by the vacuum Riptide was creating. Wade was doing his best to slash and stab, but it might have been a little harder for him when his limbs were on the verge of being ripped away.

"Shit, shit, shit," you chanted as you moved forward. You held your hands out, concentrating on Riptide. You had only gotten better with your powers in the time that you had escaped from the Void. You had felt lighter, less burdened, and much more in touch with the push and pull of your forcefields and erasing yourself out of visible existence. Now, you could even make your forcefields invisible, where before they shown a faint blue, shimmering in the air.

Still, you didn't know if you could contain Riptide, but if you didn't do something soon, he would dismember Wade, flay Piotr, and you didn't even want to know what damage he could do to Logan.

You weren't going to let it get that far.

You watched Riptide's movements and began to form a forcefield around him, careful to make sure Wade wasn't ensnared as well. Riptide didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong until Wade dropped to the ground. You could see him begin to heal as he clutched at his arm where it was dangling from his shoulder, barely hanging on.

You were struggling to contain Riptide, but you were determined to keep him in the little bubble you had created for him. He hurled something at the forcefield and you could feel it like a hit to the chest, but you didn't let up. He began to spin faster, taking shots at his new prison, but not able to break it.

"Holy shit, girl," you heard Wade exclaim as he rushed to join you. "I've got to get you to hunt Pokémon with me sometime. I'm gonna get you to nab me a Tornadus."

"Shut up," Logan huffed as he walked over towards Piotr and helped him up.

"Not that I don't appreciate the support, but what the hell are we going to do with him? I can't do this forever."

Riptide was finally slowing down and you realized that he had a hand to his chest. He was panting and fell to his knees.

"He's running out of air," Logan pointed out, carefully approaching Riptide. "He sucked it all up in that vacuum he created."

"Okay, so let the little sucker suffocate," Wade bargained, rotating his newly healed arm.

There was a ripple in the air beside you and you turned to see someone stepping out of a portal.

You weren't really sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a man who looked like he was dressed for war. He was wearing combat boots and had various weapons holstered to his thighs, waist, and chest. He had scars on his face and arms as well as a stony expression that would have deterred anyone from fucking with him. You weren't phased by that, but the metal arm and glowing left eye did give you a bit of pause.

The man reached into your forcefield with his metal arm and placed a collar around Riptide's neck. As Riptide slumped to the ground, drained, you brought a hand up to your chest. There was a dull ache that had taken up residence there that didn't go away until the man pulled his arm out of your forcefield. You had never seen anyone get through one of your forcefields before and you didn't like it.

You saw Piotr frown at your forcefield before curiously poking it with a finger. When he couldn't breach it, his brow furrowed in confusion.

The man turned to look at Piotr and gestured towards Riptide. "Do what you will with him. That collar should keep him from being a danger to anyone else."

"Who the hell is this guy?" You asked, defensive and still a little sore from the intrusion of your forcefield.

"An old buddy," Wade informed you, sounding oddly excited.

The guy turned towards you and approached you. "Y/N, you're coming with me," he continued, reaching out to grab your arm.

Logan lunged at him, stopping the stranger from making contact. "Like hell she is, bub. Who the fuck even are you?" Logan put himself between you and the guy, staring him down.

"Alright, alright, since both the big guys are bad at words, I'll speak here. Let's all just be friendly here," Wade instructed, stepping forward to put a hand on Logan's chest and the stranger's and push them just the tiniest bit away from each other. "This is Cable. He's the son of Cyclops and Madelyne Pryor, blah blah, genetic template for Stryfe, blah blah, something about Mr. Sinister and foreshadowing, infected with a techno-organic virus and a whole bunch of other mumbo jumbo Fred Savage told me." Wade took a step back until he was standing next to you and leaned in, lowering his voice. "Yes, that Fred Savage."

You stared at Wade in silence for a moment, trying to process all the information he had just dumped on you. You didn't know Scott had a kid and who the hell was Madelyne Pryor? And you had most definitely never heard of anyone who went by Mr. Sinister. But what you felt most important to ask was: "Who the fuck is Fred Savage?"

Wade gasped and turned to fully face you, ignoring the fact that Cable and Logan were still having a staring contest that would likely end in bloodshed. "You take that back right now or I'm getting that guy," he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to point towards Logan, "to spank you."

You felt a sly grin pull at your lips. You had felt off-kilter since Cable showed up and fucked with your forcefield, but bantering with Wade had become normal for you. This, at least, was familiar ground. You leaned towards him until you were close enough to almost feel his breath through his mask.

"Promise?" You whispered, winking at Wade when his eyes went wide.

"Ooh ho ho, I always took Logan for the brat in the bedroom, but you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

You heard Logan let out an irritated growl, letting his claws show again, but he didn't take his eyes off Cable.

"We're versatile," you offered with a shrug of your shoulders.

"Oh, you're naughty, girl," Wade approved with a laugh. "I like you."

"Ditto," you conceded, knowing that it would annoy Logan more. Sometimes, you liked getting him all riled up, because it meant that once it was just the two of you alone, he would take you apart in all the right ways.

"Enough," Cable snapped, moving to sidestep Logan. He finally wrapped a hand around your arm, and you realized you couldn't even protect yourself with a forcefield, since he could just walk right through it. "Your universe isn't quite done with you yet, so you're coming with me."

You felt a spike of panic at the thought of going back to your universe. Your old life with your old team and old Logan and Jean and everyone who had left you devastated and broken. You could think of one or maybe two people you would want to see from your old universe, but not enough to actually go back there.

"No," you blurted, instinctively pushing Cable away from you with a forcefield.

He hadn't been expecting it, so he staggered back a couple steps, but it wasn't nearly as far away from you as you wanted him.

Logan lunged at Cable, sinking his claws into his arm. Cable was quick to throw him off and you saw Logan start towards him again, when Piotr cut in.

"Perhaps it's better if you take this somewhere else," he advised, bringing attention to the small crowd you had attracted.

Cable scowled at Logan before considering his arm. For someone who had just been simultaneously stabbed three times and was now bleeding, he didn't seem all that concerned about the damage.

"Fine," he allowed with a look at Wade. "Let's take this back to your place."

Wade opened his mouth, but Logan shot him a look that dissuaded him from talking, and Wade let out a heavy sigh. "Ugh alright," he groaned, "but you owe me a double entendre. Also, you're driving," Wade told Logan before making his way back to the SUV.

Logan kept an eye on Cable as he nodded towards the vehicle, silently prompting you to follow Wade. Wade tried to take the passenger seat, but you were quick to steal it from him. If Logan was going to be driving, then there was no way in hell you were sitting in the backseat with Cable. You were worried he would find a way to simply reach out and steal you away, stranding you in your worst nightmare.

At least with Logan right by your side, you would feel safe. You always felt safe with him.

The drive back to Wade's apartment was awkward with tension and unspoken concerns. Wade was bouncing nervously in his seat and he kept trying to get Cable to talk about where he had been the past few years. Logan was gripping the steering wheel so tight that you were surprised it hadn't broken off in his grasp. And you were just keeping your breathing steady and trying to quell your racing heart.

You didn't know anything, you reminded yourself. Maybe you misunderstood. Maybe Cable misspoke. Either way, you knew that Logan wouldn't let you go back to your old universe. Not without a fight and certainly not alone.

You reached over to grab one of Logan's hands, grateful when he unclenched it from the steering wheel. He let you hold onto him like a lifeline, keeping his eyes on the road even though you knew his thoughts were on you.

You felt the weight of someone's stare and turned to see Cable watching you from the backseat.

"What," you snapped.

Cable didn't say anything, but you had a feeling he knew more about you than you wanted him to.

By the time you were sitting at Wade's table, Logan to your right, Wade to your left, and Cable opposite you, you were starting to get the creeping sense that something had gone horribly wrong.

"So, I think I can finally speak for all of us when I ask what the hell are you doing here? Not that I'm not thrilled to get a reunion, surprise cameos are my favorite, but I got the impression you weren't ever coming back," Wade pointed out, leaning in towards Cable.

Cable quirked an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed, but he still deigned to answer Wade.

"I've been tasked by the TVA to clean up a problem in Y/N's original universe. If she had stayed, it would have been taken care of, but now that universe's Wolverine has been captured by a man known as Omega Red."

"Omega Red? That's this shitstick's name? Wow, he is such a pick-me girl, you know what I'm saying?" Wade asked Logan, shooting him a conspiratorial look.

"I never know what the fuck you're talking about," Logan shot back, looking pissed off, but not necessarily with Wade. You realized Logan was worried for you and the prospect of you having to see the Logan who broke your heart and left you for Jean.

"Didn't know I picked up an Old Man Logan, am I right?" Wade muttered to you, nudging you in the side with his elbow while he held his other hand up in the air, palm facing you in a silent request for a high five.

You shook your head, aware that Logan was watching, but you discreetly held out your hand palm up behind your back, making him settle for a low five out of Logan's view. You were grateful for Wade's distraction, but you had already made up your mind.

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest, and shook your head. "It's not my fucking problem."

"We need your abilities," Cable argued, his gaze unerringly on you. "Omega Red releases death spores when injured. He heals himself by draining everyone around him. Someone who can sneak up on him and trap him with a forcefield could save a lot of people. We just need you to incapacitate him."

"Then get Sue Storm," you told him, refusing to budge.

"She's dead," Cable grunted, visibly getting more annoyed by the second.

"You must not be hearing me," you admonished him, your voice edged with steel. "That's not my fucking problem. If they needed me there, then they should have fucking left me there. But they dropped me in the Void, so this is on them. I’m staying here."

Cable let out a chuckle that wasn't anywhere near amused. "The TVA thought you might feel that way and they're prepared to make a deal."

"What kind of deal?" Logan asked, shooting you a wary glance.

"If Y/N does this, then they'll let her stay here permanently."

You felt a little jolt of fear spike through you at the idea that what you had now was only temporary. The TVA held a terrifying amount of power, and they could rip the life you had built yourself right out of your hands.

"And what if she doesn't?" Wade wondered, his tone finally drifting closer to something serious. It was the voice he used when he knew shit was about to hit the fan and he was wondering who he was going to have to kill first. You knew Logan was protective of you, but hearing it from Wade made the chill that had swept over you with Cable's warning start to abate. You were flanked by two people you could count on to have your back and you couldn’t have been more grateful for them.

"If she doesn't, then the TVA will prune her again. Or they'll strand her in her last universe with no way home. Or they'll hand her over to Alioth. Who knows what they've got on their mind?"

Cable sounded like he was done with the whole thing and you were beginning to wonder if the TVA had something on him to make him work with them.

"All I know," he continued, meeting your eyes, "is that your forcefields are unique. They're not only psionic, but they're damn near invulnerable."

"You could reach through it," you pointed out, absentmindedly bringing a hand up to your chest. It had felt like an invasion, something so inherently wrong that it had affected you physically.

"Eventually, I won't be able to," Cable told you. "You're getting stronger all the time and there will come a day when you'll be able to use them to block out a telepath of even Charles Xavier's strength."

"Damn," Wade muttered, shooting you an appraising look, as if he was seeing something new in you.

"This Omega Red guy can't regenerate in one of your forcefields, so he won't be able to harm anyone trying to save his own skin. He's smart, though. He's a super soldier who's been highly trained in hand-to-hand combat and a skilled military tactician."

"So, what's he want with big and angry over here?" Wade asked, pointing a finger at Wolverine. "What'd he do to piss the guy off?"

"He believes that universe's Logan knows where to find a Carbonadium Synthesizer. He has Carbonadium tentacles--"

"I'm sorry," Wade interrupted, holding up a hand. "This guy is living, breathing tentacle porn and you want us to kill him? Get him in a bare-chested wrestling match with Doc Ock and you'll make millions."

"Wade," you groaned, barely resisting the urge to hit your head on the table. "So, he wants this synthesizer thing and he thinks that the other Logan has it? Is this just a rescue mission or are we doing something else here?"

"I'll escort you to protect you and take him down, but he does know a way around my defenses," Cable admitted with a gruff, resigned voice. "If we can mortally wound him and you trap him in a forcefield before he can regenerate, then the problem is solved. Forever," Cable pointed out.

"If I do this," you started, hating that there was a strong possibility there was no way around seeing the other Logan again. "Then that's it. No more threats or taking me back. Whatever debt they think I have is settled, alright? I get to stay here and be happy here and never see those people again," your voice shook on the last word and Logan reached out to put a hand on your thigh, silently attempting to comfort you.

Cable nodded his head, reaching his hand across the table. "I believe we have a deal."

You reluctantly grabbed his hand, letting him shake yours, before you let go. "Then I'll go with you."

"Hold on," Logan cut in, finally speaking again. "This Omega Red knows how to take you out, so there's no guarantee that you can keep Y/N safe. If she's going back to that place, then I'm going with her."

"But Omega Red knows how to take you down too," Wade reminded Logan. "So, obviously, you're gonna need the merc with a mouth and I know just where to find him."

"No," Cable tried to deny, but Wade was quick to talk over him.

"Road trip!" He exclaimed, jumping up from his seat. "I've got to pack," he said, clapping his hands together in excitement, before skipping over towards his room.

"We need a moment," Logan told Cable before he grabbed your hand and pulled you up out of your chair. You followed Logan, in a bit of a daze, until he got to the door of Wade's apartment. He pulled it open, tugging you out into the hallway, before firmly closing the door behind him. "Are you okay?"

You shrugged your shoulders, twisting your mouth to the side in an attempt to keep yourself from crying. You could still feel that weight in your throat, threatening to make whatever words you decided to speak choked and broken.

Logan seemed to know, though, without you even having to speak a word. He wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to rest your head under his chin. You felt like he was trying to protect you from the world and you had no doubt that he would kill Cable and run off with you if that was what you wanted. But you didn't want the TVA to track you down and throw you back in the Void. Or worse, strand you in your original universe, where your heartache would surely destroy you.

You knew what it was like to be loved now, and you couldn't go back to a place without it.

"What're we going to tell Laura?" You couldn't help but ask, refusing to pick your head up to look at him.

"Someone's got to keep an eye on the place," Logan mused, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. "She'll be fine."

"Yeah," you sighed, reaching up to grab fistfuls of Logan's shirt, practically begging him to stay right there with you. "I don't want to see him again. Or her. I just, I think of how it ended and how practically no one cared that I was hurting. They were happy for the new couple and I was left in my room in the mansion, wondering how I had ended up completely alone."

"You're not alone anymore," Logan promised, gathering you closer to him. "And I'm not going to let either one of them make you feel that way again."

"Okay," you agreed, pulling away from Logan when you heard Wade's voice approaching the door. You hastily wiped away the tear that had managed to escape your control.

"I've got everything ready and loaded," he was saying as he opened the door. "So, let's get this universe hop on the road and spear us a kraken."

Cable looked resigned as he joined Wade and you couldn't help the briefest smile at his long-suffering sigh.

"I was only cleared for two," he pointed out, but he still reached out to put a hand on Wade's shoulder.

"Wait," you said, brushing past Cable to get back into Wade's apartment. You scribbled out a note, hoping that if Laura went looking for you or Logan, then she would find it. You stared down at the words, trying to make yourself believe them, and then rejoined the others.

Gone out to save some asshole. Be home soon.

"Let's get this shit over with," you told Cable, reaching out to grab Logan's hand just as the hallway outside Wade's apartment shimmered and disappeared.

There was a brief moment where it felt like everything got flipped upside down and your vision blurred before the picture in front of you finally smoothed out into something recognizable.

You were met with the sight of the X-Mansion and you felt sick to your stomach. The place that used to be your favorite place in all the world, where you felt saved, had turned into the setting for your nightmares.

You felt Logan go stiff at your side and you glanced up to see what had caught his attention. Logan growled and moved to place himself in front of you, shielding you from the man on the path leading up to the front doors.

You saw the satisfied smile on the man's face and pushed past Logan, rushing towards him. Logan tried to reach out for you, but you evaded his grasp, knowing you weren't in any danger.

"Erik," you greeted, practically running into his arms when he held them out to embrace you.

"Where have you been all this time? I've missed you," he murmured, pulling you close for a moment before letting you go. "It hasn't been the same without you here." His gaze flickered to over your shoulder, and he quirked an eyebrow at what he saw there. "I see you've brought another brute with you. You know you can do much better," he pointed out.

"No, I can't," you denied, looking over your shoulder to see Logan and Wade looking completely gobsmacked to see you so friendly with Erik. “And it’s a really long story, but I promise I'm in a much better place now,” you assured him.

Erik narrowed his eyes at you, as if he was trying to figure out if you were telling the truth or not.

"You're friends with Magneto?" Wade wondered, sounding like he was still trying to put the pieces together in his head. “Magneto?!”

"Does Charles know you're here?" Logan snarled at Erik, finally advancing on the pair of you.

You couldn't help but laugh, sharing an amused grin with Erik. "I should hope so," you told Logan. "Since they're married," you finished, watching as Logan's eyes went wide with surprise again.

Wade groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "There's a universe where I could've had a chance with daddy Fassbender here? What the fuck," he moaned before he reached out to smack Cable on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you take me here sooner?”

Cable rolled his eyes, pushing Wade away from him, before he addressed Erik. "We need the X-Jet."

Erik ignored Cable and looked at you. "You're working with them?" From the disdain in his voice, you knew Erik was moments away from insulting the others, so you quickly nodded your head.

"They're my friends. More," you amended with a look at Logan. "And we have to go rescue your Wolverine because apparently I'm the only one who can do it without casualties. And if I do this, then I never have to come back here." You shared a look with Erik, knowing that he would be able to tell that was what you wanted more than anything. You no longer considered this place your home and you desperately wanted to go back to where you knew you really belonged.

Erik watched you in silence for a moment before he finally dipped his head in a nod. He reached out to put a hand on your shoulder, ignoring Logan's snarl, and gifted you with a smile. "If you're truly happier with them, then I'll do what I can to help you."

You leaned forward and pulled Erik into another hug. He had been one of the only people you felt like you could count on and while Charles had always seemed to have a soft spot for Logan, Erik had one for you. When you were heartbroken, refusing to leave your room, he had been the one to offer to strip all the metal from Logan's body and encage him in an adamantium prison he would never escape. You had declined the offer, even if you had certainly appreciated it at the time.

"How did you get to be so chummy with Magneto?" Wade questioned you when you were on the X-Jet and on the way to Berlin to rescue the other Logan and take down Omega Red. "He's only one of the most well-known villains in the Marvel universe and there you were hugging him like you were old pals."

You shrugged your shoulders, not entirely understanding what Wade was talking about, but then that wasn't exactly a novel experience for you where he was concerned. "He's fought Charles and the X-Men on occasion, sure, but I don't know. I guess after years of going back and forth, they realized they were in love and didn't want to keep fighting it anymore. They figured they had both suffered enough at the hands of the other and gave in to what was inevitable." You remembered Erik telling you about chess dates in Paris and heated arguments that turned into something more. "And Erik always understood me. He was really the only one in the mansion I could count on when everyone else saw me as expendable."

"Huh," Wade mused, leaning back in his seat. "So, is it an open marriage or--?"

"We're almost there," Cable called, cutting Wade off. "Five minutes."

Logan cleared his throat, glaring at Wade until he finally got the hint and joined Cable in the cockpit.

"This Omega Red guy," Logan started, squinting his eyes like he thought the name was stupid, but continued, "he sounds like a big deal. If it starts going south, I want you to get the hell out of there."

"If anyone's in danger here, it's you," you pointed out. "He's already taken out one Wolverine and I don't want him thinking he can take you too. If he also manages to fuck with Cable again, then the only thing that's going to keep this plan on track is Wade and me. So, if it looks like he's going after you, then I don't want to risk you. I’d rather you be the one to get the hell out of there."

Logan's brow furrowed in frustration. "I'll regenerate," he reminded you. "This guy's got death spores, whatever the hell those are, and a track record of killing everyone around him to save himself. I feel like I'm finally in a place where I can breathe again and if he takes you away," he abruptly stopped talking, clenching his jaw to quell the despair that had leaked into his tone. "If he takes you away, then I go back to being that guy Wade found passed out in a bar and ready to take a bullet to the skull just to make it all end for a while. Don't make me be that guy again," he begged, reaching out to grab your hand and keeping it tight in his hold.

"So, then we both promise not to die," you tried, not knowing how to navigate forward. Logan had been vulnerable with you before. He wasn't scared to let you know what was on his mind and you knew he trusted you more than anyone, but hearing about how broken he had been before Wade whisked him off to his universe had despair clawing at your heart. You knew you would be a mess without Logan, but you never seemed to realize just how much he needed you. "And then we can go back home and we can forget all about this place."

Logan squeezed your hand before he nodded his head. "Alright," he sighed before moving to stand up, pulling you with him. "Let's fucking get this over with, then."

It only took ten minutes for you to realize that Cable might have been holding back when he was talking about the danger Omega Red posed. Cable warned that Omega Red was smart, but he was such a skilled fighter that he was able to fight Logan, Wade, and Cable without sustaining any significant damage.

You were keeping an eye on the fight, because you had been warned not to get too close until you were needed. You were waiting for any sign that Omega Red might be on the brink of death, but you got distracted when you noticed that the lab where you found Omega Red also had another room hidden at the back. You made your way towards the door, climbing over a desk and evading Cable when he got thrown across the room, landing in front of you.

Cable barely spared you a glance, taking a moment to check his weapon before joining the fight again. You could hear Wade taunting Omega Red and Logan yelling at him to get out of the way and Cable taking shot after shot. Pandemonium had fully engulfed the room, but you tuned it all out, drawn in by the mystery of the room.

You found yourself at the door and there was a feeling in your gut that told you exactly what you were about to find, but you needed to see for yourself.

You took a deep breath, wincing at the sound of someone's bone breaking and a frustrated scream echoing through the lab, and opened the door.

He was lying on a bed, passed out and blissfully unaware of the war waging in the next room and inside your head. You had hoped that you would never have to see him again, but now he looked so harmless when his eyes were closed and he wasn't leaving you for someone else.

"Y/N!" You heard Wade shout in warning, and you turned in time to see one of the tentacles from Omega Red heading right towards you. You were quick to let yourself become invisible before rushing into the room, narrowly avoiding getting pierced through the chest.

The tentacle retreated and you dared a look out of the room, catching sight of Cable on the floor, unmoving. Wade was doing what he did best, never staying still and taking any shot he could, but Omega Red now had his full attention on your Logan.

He was ruthless, going after him again and again, and you could see blood staining Logan's suit. You stepped into the room, circling the fight and waiting for your chance. You knew if it came down to it, then you would throw the whole plan out just to save Logan. But you believed in him, and sure enough, when Wade slashed at Omega Red's ankles, bringing him down to the floor, Logan stuck his claws in his throat. He shot his arm up, slicing Omega Red's lower jaw to ribbons, and quickly stepped back.

You formed the forcefield around Omega Red, pouring all of your concentration into the task. Omega Red let out a laugh, blood spilling from his throat freely. He didn't move, but you could feel something pulling at your forcefield. You remembered what Cable told you about Omega Red draining people to heal himself and you knew he was trying to do that to you.

All you had to do was outlast him.

Omega Red turned his gaze on you, still smiling as if he thought the whole situation was hilarious. You were steadily building up your forcefield, terrified that he would manage to pull it down. Omega Red finally stopped smiling and his hand went up to his neck, studying the blood that coated his fingers. You saw him sway, but that seemed to only steel his resolve, and he pulled on your forcefield again.

Wade was trying to rouse Cable, but Logan was steadily watching you. You thought about him and what was in store for you once you succeeded. Logan and a home and a family and no fear. No longing and pain and insecurity. No more wondering if you would wake up one day, stuck in an empty room, with a team that had betrayed you.

You had everything you wanted with Logan and you would be damned if you lost it all now.

Your forcefield held steady, and even though you could see Omega Red waver, it seemed he still had one last trick up his sleeve. A cloud formed around him and became so thick that you could no longer see him. You had a moment to wonder if those were the death spores Cable had mentioned before you felt like someone had poured fire right down your throat and into your chest.

You gasped, barely catching yourself from stumbling. Logan took a hesitant step towards you but you shook your head. You couldn't afford the distraction and there was no way in hell you were letting your forcefield down now. Omega Red seemed hellbent on mutually assured destruction and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

So, you held on with just the thought of Logan in your mind. You pushed past the pain and the black spots in your vision and concentrated on keeping your end of the bargain that would see you finally getting the happy ending you deserved.

After what felt like hours of Omega Red pumping out poison in an effort to escape, you noticed that the spores began to lighten and disperse. Omega Red was slumped on the floor, his gaze fixed on the ceiling of the lab. He wasn't moving and he wasn't breathing and he wasn't alive anymore.

You held on for just a moment longer, sure it was some kind of trick, before you finally let your forcefield drop. You didn't realize you were on the floor, staring up at the ceiling in a daze, until someone was standing over you.

"Y/N," Logan called before he crouched down, cupping your cheek in his hand. "Are you okay?"

You offered him a smile, shaky and uncertain, before you managed to nod your head. "I'm alive," you croaked, feeling your chest tighten for a moment, before the pressure relented. It was then you got a better look at the Logan staring down at you and you realized he was entirely wrong. "Ugh," you groaned before you weakly pushed his hand away. "Get the fuck away from me," you ordered, searching for your Logan.

It turned out he wasn't far, because one moment the wrong Logan was there hovering over you and the next he was on the floor. Logan pulled his claws from the other Logan's sides with a snarl before turning towards you. His expression quickly morphed from rage to concern. He dropped to his knees, his hand trembling as he pulled you up, letting you lean on him.

"That was too close," he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Can you stand?"

You shook your head, looking up at your Logan.

"C'mon," he coaxed, slowly but surely standing with you in his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder, your eyes slipping closed, finally feeling safe again.

“Way to go,” you heard Wade crow as he approached.

You squinted at him, seeing he had Cable’s arm around his shoulders and was doing his best to support him.

“Like, seriously, I thought we were all moments away from becoming extras in The Last Of Us. I was entirely ready for Pedro Pascal to bust in and shoot me in the head for inhaling the spores, but you did it. Hey, you don’t look so good,” Wade observed, tilting his head to the side. “You doing alright?”

“Fine,” you rasped, glancing up at Logan. “I wanna go home.”

Logan nodded his head, turning his attention towards Cable. “Think you can still pilot like that?”

Cable grunted in discomfort as he stood, shaking off Wade’s help. “I’ve had worse. Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” he said before making his way towards the exit.

Logan started walking, doing his best not to jostle you too much in his arms. You could hear the slow shuffle of footsteps trailing after the group and you knew the other Logan was reluctantly following.

Your Logan glanced down at you, frowning at you in concern. “Stay with me, alright?”

You blearily nodded your head, feeling exhaustion creep up on you. You had never fought so hard to keep one of your forcefields up and you knew the only reason you had managed it was because of Logan. He believed in you. He loved you. He cared about you. All of that and more had given you the fire you needed to keep Omega Red contained.

"I can't believe you were ever considered the worst one," you whispered, knowing Logan would still hear you. "Not when he exists," you continued, reaching up to trace your fingers over his lips. You gently tapped your fingers against them, smiling when that only served to get a huff of laughter from him. "You're the best Logan," you assured him before you finally allowed yourself to pass out.

Consciousness returned and fled from you, bringing you little bits of awareness. Logan carrying you back to the X-Jet and the other Logan trailing behind, a scowl on his face. Wade splayed out across multiple seats and singing showtunes to the other Logan. Logan's arm around you and Cable calling out that you had arrived. The hallways of the X-Mansion and Erik's voice ahead of you. A bed and a warm weight around your waist and a kiss to your forehead.

The next time you woke, it was to a sight you had hoped to never see again.

"Is this my room?" You grumbled, turning an accusing look up at Logan.

He was sitting beside you on the bed and you knew without a doubt that he had never left your side. He held a book in one hand and the other had been resting on your back, keeping you held close with your head pillowed on his thigh. He set the book down on the nightstand, being careful not to move you.

"It is," Logan confirmed before reaching for you. You let him pull you further into his side and tucked your head up under his chin.

"What time is it?" You wondered, glancing at the curtains and the glimpse of darkness outside.

"A little after ten," Logan answered, lightly running his fingers up and down your back.

"I don't want to be here," you told him, pushing away from him to sit up. "I hate being in this room and all of the memories and--" You abruptly stopped talking, dropping your head in your hands. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out unwanted memories that threatened to overwhelm you. Curling up on the bed, clutching a pillow to your chest, tears running down your cheeks. Sobs choking you, hearing everyone's whispers, dodging their stares. You had felt so alone despite Erik’s sympathy and now your chest felt heavy with the memory.

"Hey," Logan murmured, reaching out to pull you back towards him. "We can leave as soon as Cable gets back. He dropped us here so he could go talk to the TVA and then he's taking us back. We're not staying," he assured you, his hands going to your shoulders and turning you until you could meet his eyes. "We're going home," he promised once he knew he had your full attention.

You nodded your head, but you could feel that creeping sense of doubt begin to take hold. Somewhere in the mansion, Jean was fussing over Logan and they were in love and didn't give a fuck about what they put you through. It killed you, just the tiniest bit, that they were no doubt happy together.

Suddenly, you were on your back, staring up at the ceiling. Logan caged you in with his arms, lowering his body on top of yours. "I think," he started, brushing his lips against yours. "It's time to make new memories here. Better memories," he amended with a smirk.

You felt a smile tug at your lips as you raised your head enough to kiss him. It felt like coming home in the best way and you knew that you couldn't let the past overwrite the present.

Logan pressed his lips to yours, his hands tightening in the bedsheets at your sides. The kiss grew hungry and consuming, Logan nipping at your lips and begging entrance with his tongue.

You let him in and Logan set about claiming you, groaning into your mouth when you gave back everything he was giving you. You felt his hands settle on your hips before they swept up, beginning to inch your shirt higher.

Logan broke away from the kiss to plant one on your bottom lip, chin, jaw. He bit kisses into the underside of you jaw and the sensitive spot behind your ear that he knew would make you crazy. You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled, silently begging for him to take it off. You wanted to feel all of him, everything, all that you could get.

"I couldn't stand it," he growled, refusing to move as he continued to mark your skin. "Seeing his hands on you and the way you reached for him, thinking it was me. I wanted to rip him apart," he snarled before finally pulling back.

He pulled his shirt over his head and helped you do the same. His fingers brushed against your stomach before trailing down to the button of your pants. You nodded your head, giving him permission, eager to feel all of him again. It didn't take long before you were both fully bared to each other, ready to lose yourselves together.

"He's never going to touch you again," Logan promised, his hands drifting over your sides, hips, thighs. "No one but me," he continued before he pressed a kiss to your collarbone. He lightly scraped his teeth along the skin there before pulling it into his mouth, soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Logan," you breathed, feeling like you were coming back to life. You couldn't believe you had just felt so unwanted and unloved when you had Logan ready to stake a claim on every inch of you. "No one but you," you agreed as he worked his way lower, slowly kissing a path down from your neck to your chest and then stomach. You could feel the low, pleased rumble in his chest, knowing that he was driving you absolutely crazy. You wanted to move closer to him to try to urge him along, but you couldn’t. He was gripping your hips, making sure you stayed exactly where he wanted you.

He pressed a kiss to one of your hips and then the other. He looked at you, staring at you from between your thighs, before you saw his lips tick up with a devastating smirk. He reached up to grab one of your hands and placed it in his hair. "Hold on," he commanded, barely giving you time to grip the strands in your grasp before he lowered his head and began to take you apart.

Hours later, you were on round four or five, you had honestly lost count, but you knew you were lost in a state of euphoria. Logan's hands were on your hips and he was buried in you, but he was staying still, simply taking in the sight of you beneath him. You knew you must have looked like a complete and total wreck. Your spine felt like it had melted right into the mattress and your mind was a mush of thoughts all focused on pleasure and Logan and love and want.

There were marks littering your chest and stomach and thighs. You felt overly sensitive in all the right places and you knew that you were going to be incredibly sore later on, but you didn’t care. Right now, Logan looked just like you felt and you loved that you had been the one to have that effect on him.

"C'mon," you urged, pulling at his shoulders and bucking your hips up into his in an effort to get him to move. “I’m so close.”

He reached up a hand to cup the side of your face before he shook his head. "Say it," he demanded, a growl in his voice.

"Say what?" You wondered, even though you knew exactly what he wanted. It wasn't the first time he had asked you for it that night and you couldn't help teasing him just the slightest.

"You know," he admonished, pulling out enough so he was just barely inside you. You felt your thighs begin to tremble and you tried to tighten them around his waist, but he stayed firm. "Say it," he repeated, leaning forward to press a kiss to your neck. He pressed fully back inside you as his teeth scraped the mark he had left just behind your ear.

"Logan," you whimpered, clutching at his back, your nails claiming temporary marks on his skin.

"Louder," he ordered, pulling out before burying himself inside you again.

A delicious heat was traveling down your spine and settling low, shooting off little zings of pleasure that had you half insane with the need to fall right back over that edge again. Logan had been incredibly attentive all night and now you were rounding the track again, the home stretch just barely within your reach. He began to bite kisses into your neck and down your chest, before he started up a maddening pace with his hips, and you could feel yourself begin to fall again.

"Ah, fuck, Logan," you moaned, not even caring how loud you were being now. You clutched at him, lost and seeking a lifeline, trusting him to see you through to the end.

He worked his kisses back up until he had his face in the crook of your neck. You could tell just from the feel of his lips that he was smirking, pleased with you.

"Good," he murmured before he flipped you both over, letting you be on top. His hands trailed up your sides before settling back on your hips. "You're mine," he grunted, holding on to you as he pressed his hips up, seeking his own release. "You're mine, you're mine, you're mine," he chanted as he lost himself inside you again.

After, when he had his arm wrapped around you and your head was resting on his chest, he trailed a hand lightly along your back. You shivered and pressed yourself closer to him, glad when he pulled the sheet tighter around the both of you. You felt sore and sated, the last few hours completely erasing and rewriting the history of the room. Now, you looked at the walls and didn't think of how they had witnessed your desolation, but now knew of the way you were loved. Gone were the memories of tears, replaced with the echoes of your pleasure.

Logan had done exactly what he told you he would. He created new memories for you and you were so dizzyingly in love with him that you couldn't help but squeeze his hip, letting him know you were still there with him.

"I meant what I said, you know," he told you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're mine now and I'd never let you come back here to him. To any of them. Because I'm yours too," he continued, finally letting his hand rest between your shoulder blades. "We belong to each other."

You managed to look up at him despite the way sleep was trying to drag you down. "Promise?" You couldn't help but check, knowing that he had well and truly ruined you for anyone else.

"With all my heart," he confirmed, his tone sincere.

"Good," you murmured, already beginning to slip off to sleep. "Love you," you managed to get out before sleep rushed up to claim you.

You never heard him say that he loved you back, but you felt it just the same.

In the morning, you woke to an empty bed. Before, if it was you in this bed with the other Logan, you might have worried that he left you because he didn't care about you enough to stick around, but you didn't have to worry about that now. Your Logan was nothing like the one from your original universe and he would never do that to you.

You got out of bed and pulled your clothes back on. There was a rip near the right hip of your pants where Logan had been a little too eager to rid you of them. You didn't care what you looked like as you shuffled out of your old room, rumpled and content. It wasn’t like you planned on sticking around for much longer and there was no way in hell you ever planned on coming back.

You followed the sound of voices to the kitchen. You froze at the entryway when you noticed the other Logan leaning against the counter, glaring down at a cup of coffee. His arm was wrapped around Jean's waist, his hand splayed protectively over the bump under her shirt.

It felt like a punch in the gut to see Jean pregnant. They didn't waste a second, you couldn't help but think, and when Jean turned to look at you, you realized she caught that. You thought about what Cable told you, that your forcefields would eventually shut out telepaths, and you imagined one of them closing around your mind. You didn’t want anything projecting out that she might be able to hear. When Jean flinched and hurriedly looked away, you knew that it had worked, if even for a moment.

You sneered at her back, ready to get the hell out of the room and retreat, when you heard someone call your name. Wade was sitting at the kitchen table, a pile of pancakes in front of him, while your Logan watched you with a warm, inviting smile.

Wade began to wave at you, as if he thought you wouldn't be able to see him.

"Over here," he called, reaching out to pat the chair beside him. "Saved you a seat," he offered, turning his attention back to his food. He still had his mask on, but it was rolled up so his mouth was free, and he could shovel forkfuls of pancakes into his mouth at a speed that was starting to make you nauseous.

"Here," Logan murmured, sliding over a cup of coffee once you sat down.

You took a sip, savoring the taste, and offered him a smile. "Just how I like it," you told him, leaning over for a brief kiss.

You heard someone clear their throat and you glanced over to see the other Logan staring at you. He looked as if he was waiting for something, but you had no idea what he might expect from you. If you had your way, you wouldn’t even be in the room, but the buffer of Wade’s rambling mouth and presence of your Logan were the only things keeping you rooted to your spot.

"You look a little tired, there, Wolvie," Wade observed as he let his fork clatter down on the empty plate. He pulled his mask back down and rolled his shoulders, as if he was getting ready for a fight.

"Don't call me that," the other Logan snapped, taking a step away from Jean.

"Well, what else can I call you? Logan Two?" He tried, shaking his head. "No, that's not right. Maybe Loser? That seems to fit you better."

"Shut the hell up," the other Logan spat and you saw Jean roll her eyes before leaving the room.

You couldn't help but feel lighter without her there. You hated to admit it, even to yourself, but you felt insecure with her anywhere around your Logan. It only helped that your Logan had spent the last few minutes with his hand on your thigh and his attention focused on you. He reached out to gently press his thumb to the underside of your jaw, briefly caressing the mark he had left there the night before.

“Can’t wait to get you home,” your Logan murmured, a wicked smirk on his face that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

You heard something shatter and glanced over to see the other Logan clutching a broken cup and coffee splattered on the floor beneath him.

"What's wrong there, Wolvie? Didn't get enough sleep last night?" Wade asked, adopting a faux concerned tone.

"No," the other Logan growled, shooting a scowl at your Logan. "I didn't."

Your Logan gave the other Logan a pleased, smug grin before taking a sip of your coffee. "Funny," he started, before setting the cup down and staring him down across the kitchen. "Can't say I slept much last night, either," he claimed, bringing his arm up to rest along the back of your chair.

Your only warning was a snarl of rage before you felt your chair tip back and you were on the floor. The other Logan had rushed at your Logan and threw him into the table. The table buckled and collapsed and you used a forcefield to push back the other Logan. He looked betrayed for a moment and you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of that before your Logan lunged at him.

You lost track of the fight, both of them frenzied and enraged. There was blood sprayed across the tiles and a crack in the counter where the other Logan had been thrown. The fight ended with your Logan's claws stuck in the other Logan's chest and Wade standing behind the other Logan, his katanas crossed over his throat, ready to decapitate him if needed.

"I can't leave you anywhere, can I?" Cable interrupted, sounding resigned. You didn’t even notice him appear, you had been so invested in the fight and making sure your Logan or Wade didn’t get seriously hurt. "Come on," he continued, "it's time to get you three back home."

Hearing Cable call Wade's universe your home gave you all the motivation you needed to walk forward and put your hand on your Logan's shoulder. "Hey," you whispered, knowing he was listening to you even though he was still glaring at the other Logan. You also had the other Logan's attention, which made what you said next even sweeter. "I'm happier with you," you reminded your Logan. "And I don't want him anymore," you said, meeting the other Logan's eyes.

You saw the shock in his expression fade into fury, but he knew he was trapped. Still, he snarled and jerked in your Logan's hold, blood beginning to drip from where Wade's blades had sliced into his skin.

"Goodbye," you told him, even if you didn't think he deserved that much from you.

The other Logan didn't respond, but from the look on his face, you knew he got the real message. You were completely done with him.

You let your hand drift down from your Logan’s shoulder to his arm, prompting him to finally pull his claws out of the other Logan's chest. He took a step back, staring the other Logan down, before he turned to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

"Let's go home," he told you, beginning to usher you over towards Cable.

You didn't spare a glance at the other Logan, not wanting to look back. You knew that it was much better to keep your focus on your future ahead with your Logan and not on what or who you were leaving behind.

When you finally got back to Wade's universe, Cable turned to face you.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Here," he said, waiting for you take it from him. "There's no going back now," he warned you. "I made sure to get it in writing for you."

You skimmed the piece of paper, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

"What's it say?" Wade wondered, reaching out to pluck the paper out of your hands. After a moment, he chuckled before looking at Cable. "You big 'ol softie," he said before slapping the paper to Logan's chest, barely waiting for him to grab it before he threw his arms wide. "Group hug," he said before sweeping you into an embrace with Cable. "C'mon, Logan, get in on this."

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of your throat. Wade was ridiculous, but you appreciated his sentiment. Cable released a heavy sigh before extracting himself from Wade's hold.

"Good luck," he told you, before beginning to turn a dial on the device strapped to his forearm. "I think you're going to need it."

And then he was gone, leaving you to pat Wade on the back and step into Logan's arms. You felt lighter, freer, after reading the paper that confirmed that the TVA wouldn't be sending you back to your old universe. You truly were free to forget all about your old life and focus on your new one.

You pulled away just enough to frame Logan's face in your hands before you pulled him in for a kiss. It had taken you heartbreak and pain and a whole host of other terrible things to get you where you belonged with the right Logan, but you wouldn't have traded the experience for anything.

Now, all you had to do was make sure you held on tight and refused to let go. From the way Logan kept you in his arms, a relieved smile on his face, you knew he felt the same.

Neither one of you was willing to lose what you had gained without one hell of a fight.

Later, you would remember that moment when you were in Logan’s arms while he tried and failed to keep Wade from joining the embrace. You would remember your helpless laughter at the sight of Logan’s perplexed scowl while Wade managed to hop on his back. It was that moment, when you felt unburdened and free and happy, that would get you through the tragic events ahead.

Author's Note: I'm so fucking nervous about this one. I rarely write anything with spice, so I'm literally fucking terrified right now y'all will hate this. If you liked this, letting me know would make my day. And I have an idea/plot for a third chapter, so if y'all want to read that, please let me know. And if you want to be tagged in the next part, please let me know! I figure as long as y'all let me know you want to keep reading this fic, I'll keep on adding more to it. And if there are characters/scenarios/other Marvel stuff you might want to see, let me know! I might be able to work it into the fic. (also, we're just going to pretend reader never met negasonic teenage warhead or colossus yet for the purpose of this fic.)

taglist: @wonderfrost @mrsyixingunicorn10 @blackbleedingrose @arrozyfrijoles23 @elianamarie-blog

@sarahskywalker-amidala @whiskytoast @shizzybarnaclee @zbeez-outlet @halepack2011

@facelessfionna @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @whyam1heree @serendippindots @janilovecookies

@lollipopsandstuff @4ria790 @jtthompson @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth @the-gentle-spirit

@hazel2928 @gothicknightz @mkay33 @bibblesdiscordkitten @albionfay

@songwizard

#deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #deadpool #deadpool 3 #wolverine x reader #logan x reader #reader insert #logan #marvel #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #marvel imagine #wolverine imagine #cable #x men #x reader #imagine #my fic #when i'm with you i'm home 'verse

596 notes · View notes

ahsxual · 1 month ago

Text

What Are They Like In Bed?

Pairing: Matthew Lillard Characters x Reader

Characters: William Afton, Stu Macher, Stevo Levy, Tim Laflour & Doug Van Housen

Warnings: +18 content, minors DNI, rough sex, mentions of torture and unhealthy relationships

William Afton

William is a very rough and possessive lover in bed. His main goal is to make you cum by overstimulating and edging you over and over again. He would love to "torture" you just to hear you beg for mercy for him to stop, only to laugh at your face afterwards. He will degrade you and make you feel like a personal sex doll for his own pleasure

He isn't loud in bed, apart from a few low grunts when he's cumming, especially when it's inside you (his favorite place to cum)

His favorite position is missionary, so he can watch your face while he fucks you, and doggy style, where he can watch your pretty ass bounce with every thrust and have full control of your body as he presses your head down

He will be sweet and nice to you in public so that you feel attached to him, just to act cold between four walls. You never know which side of him you'll get, so it's always a new experience and a rush of adrenaline whenever the two of you are about to fuck

He won't mind hurting you by talking to other women his age. In fact, he will feel great that you're jealous because of him and because he can "control" your feelings. But do not, and I repeat, DO NOT do the same to him. He'll make you regret it and you'll be covered in bruises the next day if not worse lol

That being said, William is extremely possessive of you, even if he doesn't admit it because you must know that you're only his

If you're in an official relationship with him, he'll take more care of you and be more attentive to your needs, so he'll be able to make love to you if you ask beg him to. But don't forget his "true persona" and his evil nature, so his "sweet version" won't last forever

Stu Macher

Stu is a sweeter lover in bed, if you're his girlfriend. If you're not, he'll be the horniest guy you've ever met and will fuck you just to get off, so he'll be pretty annoying just to get in your pants.

He's always in the mood for it, so you better be prepared to deal with a super clingy and touchy Stu all day. He won't even mind where you guys are, he just wants to kiss and be inside you.

His favorite position is the one where he can put your legs around his shoulders to fuck you deeper while looking into your eyes, since he knows his dick is huge and it can reach places you never knew about yourself it'll hurt a bit, just so you know

His pace is pretty fast, but he isn't too rough, unless you ask for it. If you guys are dating or having a deep level of intimacy, he'll tell you about his darkest kinks in hope you'll accept them and want to experiment them as well.

Such as knife kink, chasing kink, pain kink (both sides), dacryphilia, predator/prey dynamic kink, and much more.

He'll want you to have sex with Billy too eventually, with Stu still present obviously, just to prove to Billy what a good girl you are and how lucky he is to have you for himself also to have an excuse to be more intimate with Billy lmao

BUT, if you ever find out about his double life and even then you stayed loyal and accepted him, or even want to join them, Stu will kill and die for you without blinking an eye, if necessary. He'll do anything for you and your sex will be even more... thrilling

Stevo Levy

We all know that Stevo is all about rebellion, drugs and sex. Those are the three things he needs in his life to feel alive and give life some meaning.

Stevo is actually a great lover as long as you guys keep your relationship unofficial and stay faithful to each other!! From his countless experiences, he's great in bed, always making you feel sexy and valued by kissing and worshipping every part of your body.

He'll fuck you anywhere, whether it's at parties, at a friend's house, in a hidden spot in the middle of the street that he's found, literally anywhere. And he won't give two fucks if you guys get caught, and will fight whoever makes you feel uncomfortable or makes nasty comments about you.

His kisses are sloppy and wet, especially when he's high or drunk, so by the end of the night you'll be covered in his spit. In the beginning, his sex is primal and he will fuck you like he needs it to stay alive, which means there'll be sweat, hickeys and your sore pussy in the next morning.

You'll also notice a change in your sexual encounters the moment he falls in love with you: he'll be more sweet, his pace will be more slow and sensual, and your pleasure will always come first rather than his, even if it means he doesn't get to come. He wouldn't tell you that he's falling for you, but you would find out when Bob and Mike told you he had been acting weird lately and by the fact that he had beaten the shit out of a guy who was flirting with you at a party.

Also, he's a switch in bed, if you tease him enough ;)

Tim Laflour

Sex with Tim is a very polemical topic, as we all know. Ever since he began to commit to his pledge, it was a bit challenging to convince him to make sex with you... but only at the beginning.

You're too irresistible for him to reject his sexual needs, so after one month of dating, he begged you on his knees to just taste and eat you out he literally cried. There's no penetration , so it doesn't count as actual sex, right?

After that "incident", you began to tease him more to get what you wanted. To be intimate with your boyfriend, there's nothing wrong with that. And believe me when I tell you it worked perfectly.

Tim is probably the most attentive, caring and loving partner you'll ever have in bed and in general. He can't be extremely rough or mean with you, it's all just pure love and tenderness with him. He would probably die from sadness and regret if he ever hurt you.

Before you started dating him, he was more dominant and wanted to prove to you that he was good in bed. Now that you've been dating for months, he's mostly a sub in the bedroom, loving the way you dominate him and make him beg for release.

But don't get me wrong, because in moments when he's feeling desperate, he won't let you have your way and will actually fuck you instead of making sweet, sensual love. He will apologize afterwards if he was too rough and the aftercare will be perfect.

This big boy loves quickies, especially if you're both stoned or drunk at your closest friend's house. On those occasions, his pace is very fast, as if he was losing his virginity to a goddess and couldn't control his sexual desires, and he grabs you as if you might run away from him. In the end, you always laugh at how cute, desperate, and clingy he was with you.

LISTEN, this boy right here has a hockey player/cheerleader role-play kink. He goes crazy when you dress up as a semi-naked cheerleader and ride him, telling him how such a good boy he was and that he deserved a reward for winning the game. BUT, if his team loses, you've discovered one thing that turns his sadness into excitement... and that being said, Tim never leaves a game upset anymore, regardless of the result, because he knows that has soon as you get home, you're going to peg him until he begs you to let him come. YES, he's definitely into pegging.

The fact that he has a piercing on his penis and probably on his nipples too, it can add extra fun in sex, since he is very sensitive on those specific spots. Whenever you play with his piercings, expect him to cum within a few minutes. He's also the loudest in the bedroom ;))

Doug Van Housen

Lord have mercy on you if you want to have sex with Doug Van Housen. He's the definition of destruction in sex, and if you're into pain and hard BDSM, then he's the right lover for you.

If you're not officially dating and it's just sex between you two, prepare to be constantly bruised and sore. He will use you as his sex doll, only for his pleasure and won't care much if he hurts you.

He gets turned on by your cries, your pain, your vulnerability, devotion and loyalty towards him, the way you give him the power to control and abuse you. But even then, you won't be able to see his softer side ever if he doesn't have real feelings for you.

If he does have feelings for you somehow, things will be a bit... different. He will be a bit more affectionate (not too much, just kisses and possessive side hugs) and focus more on your pleasure.

He won't stop fucking you until he made you cum several times and you don't have energy to simply get up. He enjoys the exhaustion he causes you, edging you first countless times, which means he did a great job in pleasuring you.

He'll want to mark and carve his initials on your soft skin, just so you know who you belong to and never forget it... as if you would ever forget, but "just in case your silly pussy decides to misbehave its master", he would say.

He's probably the kinkiest and most perverse of them all, and the one with the darkest fantasies too. He sees you only as his property, and won't hesitate to torture anyone who tries to take you away from him. But no one smart enough will challenge him if they have the will to live.

450 notes · View notes

zhongrin · 10 months ago

Text

stupid hormones

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, neuvillette

✼ tags ┈ minors dni, fem!pronouns + fem!bodied reader, period, period blood, reader wears reusable pads (zhongli), cyom2c / choose your own method to cum (lmao) (zhongli), fingering (al haitham), p -> v (wriothesley), oral (neuvillette)

✼ a/n ┈ disclaimer: my period hormones wrote this, i am innocent 😇

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

the scent of your blood was strong, but the scent of your arousal was even stronger.

fresh out of his shift at the wangsheng funeral parlor, zhongli silently closed the front door behind him and soundlessly walked towards your bedroom. he leaned onto the doorway as he observed you sitting on your favorite recliner sofa, gasping as your hips grounded against your knuckles above the clothing, the soft surface of the pads providing minimal stimulation to your swollen clit.

your breath hitched when you felt his gaze, and the whimper leaving your throat made the corner of zhongli’s lips twitch.

“oh, darling….,” he crooned, slowly stalking closer towards your needy form.

“it’s the hormones,” you whined, and his corresponding chuckle made you paw on his pants, “help me…”

“if you ask nicely,” your husband's hand cradled the back of your head, lightly scratching your scalp, the tips slowly trailing down your nape.

“please help me cum…”

“there you go. good girl…,” a smile and a pleased huff later, you were pushed back onto your favorite chair, and you thanked your past self for having enough sense to lay a towel under you beforehand. you watched eagerly as he kneeled and carefully slipped your panties away, eyes drooping in adoration at the sight of his feast, “tongue or finger, sweetheart?”

you breathed your answer in a half moan, and you thought you saw zhongli smirk before he started his second shift — pleasing the wife is his primary job as a husband, and he never failed to take it seriously.

“you’re a lot more sensitive when you’re in such a vulnerable state. i suppose some of those erotica novels of yours has a speck of informative value.”

al haitham fully understood that it was one of your weakness when he talked like that, in that slightly condescending baritone, all the while his fingers are so deep inside your cunt, hitting that specific spot. hence, the way your walls spasm right after and the way your slick gushed along with the dark red liquid didn’t faze him.

with a hum and slow, careful movements of his fingers, he helped you ride down your climax, before placing a soft kiss on your forehead, waiting for bliss to clear out of your glazed eyes.

your period hormones sometimes made you a lot more insatiable than usual, and al haitham preferred to keep you sated and not groaning every five seconds due to cramps, so this two-birds-with-one-stone solution was a routine he didn’t mind integrating into his life. your period calendar was equally memorized along with the akademiya’s meetings, events, and deadlines in his head.

“…. more,” you mumbled with a pout, and he held back the urge to snort.

“of course you want more,” the words slipped out of his lips just as his fingers got back to work, but he stopped his movements when you grabbed his wrists, “what now?”

“not that… i want…,” your gaze strayed to the bulge pressing against your side, and he smirked in approval.

three birds with one stone. how outstandingly efficient.

wriothesley had always thought you would eventually drive him insane one day.

maybe that day was today.

“just one round, please?” you mewled, dainty fingers rubbing against his abs under his rumpled dress shirt before tracing a vein up his aching cock, trying to guide him into your needy pussy.

“sweetheart, you sure about this?” his breathing came out in short pants, icy blue eyes narrowed and shimmering with lust. the hand palming your thigh gently grabbed your wrist, halting your movements temporarily, “you’re not hurting, are you?”

“it’ll hurt less when you fuck me properly!” you huffed, “or what, are you turned off by all the blood-”

his hands loosened his hold over yours, an amused grin showing his slightly crooked left fang stretching his lips, “of course not.”

a few shuffles and guiding murmurs later, you whine and keen as your arms shook against the dining table of your shared home, one of your beloved’s hands palming your sensitive mounds as the other supported himself against the furniture, his hips sensually moving as he bullied your sweetest spots. rather than disgusted, the way your slick and blood coated his skin seemed to make him snarl in excitement, like a wolf on a hunt.

“you see, love,” he panted right against your ear, savoring the debauched noises falling off your lips, “dunno why… maybe my brain has associated blood with the adrenaline rush in a pankration match…”

his calloused fingers rolled your nipple, pinching lightly before his whole hand palmed the plushness, the gentleness a contrast with how his shaft rutted into you, your hips desperately pushing back against him in turn.

“but the sight of them really…,” a grunt, a hard thrust that made you momentarily see stars, and you felt yourself inch steadily closer and closer into that euphoric release, “… really gets me going.”

“ー ah, no worries, when you get too sore tonight, i’ll make sure to massage you thoroughly…”

you had a feeling you just fed this man a forbidden fruit.

whenever he was faced with an unexpected situation, neuvillette always tried to be as calm and sensible, his mind inwardly telling himself to control his emotions.

unfortunately, no matter how much his willpower was, there was no way his dragonhoods wouldn’t rear their heads when faced with so many stimuli at once.

“mmm, neuvi, please, oh please- i n-need you so so bad-”

he grunted at the desperate murmurs whispered against his lips. the iudex’s gloved fingers gripped the scandalous exposure of your thighs as you hovered above him. your needy pheromones nearly made his eyes roll and goaded a moan out of him; so much so that his fangs poked against the bottom of his lips, his draconic features glowing. you were bloodied, and he knew that you were uncomfortable, yet you were clearly so turned on and ready for him.

you were delectable, that's what you were.

“you smell so good, my dewdrop."

he hummed, guttural and deep as he kissed your cheek, before flipping your position so he was the one on top. deep purrs rumbled in his chest as he took his coat and let them crumple onto the floor, before his arms locked around your thighs to spread them open and his tongue wasted no time to delve into the creamy mess of your cunt. with how pale he was, the blood stood prominent against his skin and his dress shirt, but just for this once the gentleman’s decorum was the last thing he had in mind.

he had a meal to savor and a wife to care for.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #al haitham x reader #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader #zhongli #al haitham #neuvillette #wriothesley #minors dni #rin writes

2K notes · View notes

spilledartery · 6 months ago

Note

ANGST FEED US ANGST PLEASE

to conceive . . . ( kunikuzushi )

[ male reader, kingdom ! au, angst, trans ! kunikuzushi, infertility, sex. fujoshis, mlm fetishizers, dni. ]

he’s broken, he concluded. kunikuzushi felt tears well in his eyes, his hand instinctively going to his flat belly – a harsh truth that it will forever be that way. the mage, who broke the news to him, gave him an empathetic look.

what would you say? will you be mad? no, no, he knows you won’t be. you’re the kindest emperor ever. it was why he felt such a failure that you, a king, chose him, a mere commoner before you made him your consort, but he failed giving you an heir.

he won’t be pleased, he will hold a grudge against me, kunikuzushi’s mind kept slipping in the dark as he heads back to your shared chambers. he will find someone else—

he sits on the bed. it was only now that he noticed his shoulders were shaking violently as he sobs. he’s failed his sole purpose in life, of giving you an heir. he felt so undeserving of his title as your consort – you put him on such high regard, defend him whenever other nobles gets too rowdy with their mouths, and yet he can’t even pay you back by bearing a child.

that night, kunikuzushi laid on his side of bed, far away from you. he would usually be buzzing with excitement whenever he sees you at the door, but now...

“beloved,” you whispered, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “has something happened? come, please, love. talk to me.”

your soft, reassuring tone made him crumble. for the umpteenth time that day, he cried. he gripped the sheets tight that his knuckles turned white. he sniffled.

“oh, love.” the next thing kunikuzushi knew, he was sitting on your lap; your arms were around his waist protectively. you gazed up at him with nothing but deep love and admiration. he doesn’t deserve you, you deserve someone better than keeping being wed to someone broken as him. “why do you cry?” you asked.

“i – i...”

kunikuzushi lets himself be selfish and clung onto you, putting his arms around your neck and sobbing against your shoulders. he grips your robes tight, afraid that you’ll slip away – but he knows you aren’t like that.

in the dim moonlight illuminating your chambers, you held him as he cried. you didn’t pry after his stammering, you just let him cry and cry, until he felt like there are no more tears coming out of him. he sniffled, steeling himself. he still holds you tight. “i w-went to the mage, earlier,” he hiccups, and you run your hands up and down his back gently, letting him know that you’re listening. “and... and i’m...” he felt tears again – it seems like there are more. “i cannot conceive. i-i’m broken! i’m infertile, i cannot give you an heir! i’m so sorry, your majesty, i am so sorry – please, forgive me — ”

through his mantra of “you deserve someone better, someone who can give you a child,” you console him by cupping his cheeks gently in your hands. “you are not broken, my love. it’s... it’s okay. there are plenty other ways of getting a child, yes?”

no. no. he knows how much you value tradition. surely you can’t just adopt a child, not of your bloodline, and raise them to rule the kingdom for the future. he knows you are only saying this to make him feel better, and he wants to slap you for it.

“hush, now, darling,” you said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “it’s okay.” then, you kissed him, chaste and soft. in spite of himself, he leaned into the kiss. he’s so selfish for allowing himself be in your presence further.

when you pull away, he’s already gripping the collar of your robes tight and pulling you back against his lips. he kissed you so earnestly and demandingly, as if wanting to prove something. please, don’t replace me. i can still be a good spouse, please...

you obliged with his advances. pushing your tongue in his mouth, he can’t help but moan, one which was muffled against your lips.

you laid him on the bed, and, without breaking the heated kiss, you began undressing him while he’s already slipping your robes off your shoulders. he was urgent, while you took your time.

you kissed down to his jaw, neck, to his soft, small mounds of breasts, taking a nipple into your mouth while your hand massages the other – kunikuzushi moans, arching up to you.

in the back of his mind, a cruel voice keeps whispering that he doesn’t deserve this; your mouth, your fingers that are pushing into him, your sweet, sweet words in his ear – none of this he deserves, but he’s selfish, always has been. and so, he indulges.

he cried as you pushed into him, and you were no better, breathing heavily against the crook of his neck. kunikuzushi wraps his legs around your waist, the action made you go deeper, and his eyes rolled back at the sensation.

you’ve set a steady pace as to not overwhelm him, but he just wants you go harder and faster, to be rough, as his punishment for being a failure and being infertile. his nails clawed at your back, and you groaned, biting his neck in retaliation.

the warm feeling of your cum pooling in his belly was a cruel reminder for kunikuzushi that it will not take. again, he cried.

some time later, you and him were at the massive table, with only the two of you eating. time and time again, you’d reassured him that it is okay that he cannot conceive, that you still love him no matter what, and he was starting to believe it until your advisor opened his damned mouth: “your majesty, if his highness kunikuzushi continues to fail giving you an heir”—you can’t help but scowl at the words he’d chosen—“isn’t it, perhaps, the time to look for concubines?”

you saw kunikuzushi tense. though before he hears your answer ( you’ve got no plans of agreeing, however ), he’d already hastily stood up and ran away, tears in his eyes. your heart breaks for him.

#[ lost stories . . . ]#top male reader #male reader #angst #kunikuzushi x male reader #dom male reader #sub kunikuzushi #bottom kunikuzushi #scaramouche x top male reader #scaramouche x male reader #sub scaramouche #bottom scaramouche

597 notes · View notes

surielstea · 1 month ago

Text

Giver and Receiver

Kinktober day 3: Worship + Thigh Riding

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Courtesan!Reader

Summary: Eris teaches Reader what it’s like to be on the receiving end of pleasure.

A. Note: I cooked with this one I fear, mostly smut but when there IS plot you better believe it’s good.

7.2k words.

I walked into the throne room behind my Madame, a forced sultry smile on my red-painted lips, my hands clasped tightly behind my back, my posture straight as I peered up at the High Lord of Autumn through my lashes.

I was positioned in a line of seven other girls, all from the same business as me.

"Lord Beron," My Madame purrs, bowing at the waist, her short greying hair flowing with her as she dipped her head. We all followed suit, as instructed.

"Rise." He commanded and we obeyed, standing tall under his scrutinizing gaze. His eyes roamed over us for what felt like an eternity. Cold, analytical.

"Vedika is our most valued, and expensive girl," My Madame says after a moment of thick silence, placing her hands on the girl next to me. I swallowed thickly, steeling my features the way Vedika did. She was such a natural when it came to stuff like this, I envied her for it more than I envied her beauty.

I always struggled during The Choosing, especially by royals. They were so entitled, thought it was in their right to treat us more like objects than human beings, and perhaps it was, because we were harlots, the lowest class in a High Lord's eyes, despite my Madame's organization being the most prestigious of all courtesan companies.

"Who's your youngest?" Lord Beron asked with an arched brow and my stomach knotted. Oh gods, he was the worst kind of male, wasn't he?

My Madame didn't miss a beat as her hands moved to Clarissa's shoulders, we truly were just money bags to her. "That would be my dear Clarissa, turned forty only a week ago." She said, her voice like silk, smooth and fluid.

"I'll take her," The High Lord said, waving his hand and beckoning the young girl over. My Madame went with her, outstretching her hand as one of the courtiers placed a small coffer of gold into her hands. My madame's eyes nearly popped from her skull.

"My lord, this is far too much for one girl's service," she crooned, her tone sugary, no doubt hoping for future business.

I released a quiet, shaky breath, allowing myself to relax as my nerves ebb. He didn't pick me, thank the gods he didn't pick me.

The high lord didn't even cast her a glance, too focused on the girl he plucked from us as he said, "Give the others to my sons," He waved us off with a dismissive hand and my stomach lurched. "But be discreet, my wife needn't know I have whores roaming the manor," Beron ordered, and again, my Madame bowed, the rest of us following suit, as always.

My hands slightly shook, but I clasped them together behind my back and steeled my expression. Being chosen by a High Lord was one thing— at least he had some sort of leash, the crown bound him to some extent. But his sons? The ones who most likely had no chance of being heir anyway? They had nothing to lose. They could kill me and no one would bat an eye, one whores life for a royals entertainment. It happened more often than one might think.

I stifled my shallow breaths as we left the room, my Madame giving each of us directions to a Vanserra's room. Vedika glanced over at me, her warm brown eyes soft, and comforting.

Vedika taught me everything I knew, everything. She often stuck her neck out for me, in my first years as a mere seventeen-year-old I had told her I was terrified of the male I was assigned— so she offered her services for half the price to the male, and he was quick to ditch me for her. She returned later that night littered with bruises and marks, to this day I still don't think I could ever repay her.

"Vedika, you can go to the youngest of the brothers, he's the first door on your left, a real charmer apparently," My Madame hums. "A reward, for all the money you bring me," She purrs.

Vedika bows low, proper. "Thank you, mistress," She said, her voice soft and as lovely as a summer's night. She stood upright and gave me one last lingering look before disappearing down the hall.

"And you," My Madame sighs, looking me over. "The oldest will do for you," She clicks her tongue, hands coming to my shoulders, fixing my posture.

I bit down on my lip to stop it from trembling. The eldest Vanserra was known for his cruelty, renowned for the way he had treated The Morrigan, his former fiancée.

"Perhaps he'll beat some sense into you," Madame mused, clicking her tongue as she adjusted the sheer fabric of my gown. Her words hung in the air, and I wasn't sure if she meant them literally or figuratively. "Now, what do you say?"

I bow low, lower than Vedika had. "Thank you, mistress," I utter, willing my voice not to wobble.

"Go on then, last door down," She shoos. I rise from my bend and don't say another word as I stride down the hall, faux confidence in my movements as I pass every door, the sounds of moaning and grunting already being able to be heard from the adjacent rooms. My steps became more and more hesitant the closer I got to that last door, hands trembling as I came to a stop in front of it and raised my hand to knock.

I blinked away my fear and knocked twice, loud enough for him to hear without question, but still, delicate, to show that I was nowhere near a threat.

I rocked back on my heels anxiously, my stomach knotting itself into a tangled mess. The door swung open. I looked up, and up, and up. Meeting eyes of gold and amber and saffron.

I've heard talk of Eris Vanserra, but nowhere in his reputation did anyone mention how unfairly beautiful he was. His tousled auburn hair, brushed back like he'd run his fingers through it countless times, framed a face too sharp and striking to be kind. His skin, smooth and sun-kissed, was dusted with freckles over the bridge of his nose. His full lips parted, and I realized far too late that he was speaking to me.

"My, my," He smirked. "I'd say the gods have gifted me an angel if I didn't know any better." He crosses his muscular arms over his carved chest, leaning against the doorway and peering down at me. "What brings you to my chambers?"

"Your father..." I say, then wince. It'd most likely be best if I didn't mention his cheating, bastard of a father if my goal was to sleep with him. "I work for Madame Kamira's house," I explain, attempting my most sultry of voices. "We were called upon to service the Vanserra family, one for each son," I sum briefly, clenching my hands into fists behind my back, my manicured nails digging into my palms.

His eyes darkened with amusement as I clenched my hands into fists behind my back, nails digging into my palms. This was a game, and I was already losing.

Eris tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking over me like I was something to be savored slowly, methodically. I fought to keep my breath steady, to maintain the façade of composure. My role here was clear: I was a courtesan, meant to please him, nothing more. The idea of taking anything for myself had never even crossed my mind. It wasn't allowed.

He pushed off the doorframe and stepped aside, motioning for me to enter. "Well then, let's see what all the fuss is about," he said smoothly, his voice a purr.

I hesitated for only a fraction of a second before crossing the threshold. His chambers were vast, dimly lit by the flickering glow of a hearth. The air smelled of smoke, cedar, and something faintly sweet, almost like cinnamon. Rich tapestries lined the walls, and a large bed dominated the room, draped in crimson and gold.

The door closed behind me with a soft click, the sound almost ominous in the silence. I could feel him watching me, and the weight of his gaze settled over my skin like a heavy, heated blanket. I prepared myself to do what I always did—to serve, to please. This was nothing new.

"Relax," Eris said, amusement dancing in his tone as he crossed the room, each step deliberate and predatory. "I don't bite. Not unless you ask me to."

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening despite my best efforts. My hands still trembled slightly, but I clasped them in front of me, hoping to hide them. I'd been in situations like this before, but something about him—about Eris—was different. Dangerous.

"You seem nervous," he commented, his voice now closer than I expected. I turned slightly, only to find him mere inches away, towering over me with that same smug smirk on his lips.

"I'm not," I lied, though my voice wavered ever so slightly. I didn't understand why I felt so on edge. He was like every other male who'd paid for my company—so why was this different?

His amber eyes glinted with amusement as he reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The touch was gentle, too gentle for someone with his reputation.

"Liar," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

My throat tightened, and I resisted the urge to shrink away. Instead, I tilted my chin up, meeting his gaze directly. Fine, I'd play this game.

"I'm here to serve you, my lord," I said, injecting as much confidence into my voice as I could muster. "How would you like me to begin?"

Eris chuckled, the sound low and rich, sending a shiver down my spine. "Bold," he mused, his hand trailing down my neck before dropping to his side. "But unnecessary. I have something else in mind."

Before I could ask what, he moved to the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning back slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. He patted his thigh once, a clear invitation.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I moved without hesitation, crossing the room to stand before him. His eyes darkened, the playful glint from earlier replaced by something deeper, more intense.

"On my thigh," he instructed, his voice soft but commanding. "Take your pleasure."

I froze. I couldn't have heard him right. Take my pleasure? No one had ever asked me to do that. I wasn't paid to find my own pleasure—I was paid to give it. I must've misunderstood. My body tensed, and confusion flickered across my face, though I tried to hide it. Surely he didn't mean—

"Go on," Eris coaxed, his amber eyes softening as he watched me hesitate. "Don't be afraid."

My breath caught. He wasn't telling me to focus on him—he wanted me to take control, to feel something for myself. The very idea felt foreign, like stepping into uncharted territory. But I couldn't let my confusion show. Not when he was watching me so intently.

With measured movements, I straddled his thigh, the smooth fabric of my gown brushing against his legs. His hands came to rest on my hips, holding me steady but not guiding me—he wanted to watch me, to see me take what I was never allowed to have.

"There's a good girl," he murmured, his fingers digging in ever so slightly, his approval radiating through his touch. "Now, get yourself off."

I bit down on my lip, my hands resting on his broad shoulders as I began to move. Slowly at first, testing, the friction of my core against his thigh sending jolts of heat through me. I wasn't used to this. It felt wrong, almost selfish. But his hands, his eyes—they were encouraging me to go on.

"Faster," he urged his voice a low rumble that sent another wave of heat pooling in my belly. "Don't hold back. I want to see how badly you need this." His words sent a shock through me, but I still didn't understand. I was supposed to make him feel good, wasn't I? Not myself. This was for his enjoyment, not mine. And yet, the way his hands gripped my hips, the way his eyes never left mine—he seemed more focused on me, on my pleasure, than anything else.

Eris's smirk faded slightly, replaced by something warmer, more patient. His hands guided me, helping me move against him, the friction intensifying with every roll of my hips. "Let go," he whispered, his voice full of command but laced with something softer. "This is for you. No one else."

I gasped, my grip tightening on his shoulders as the pleasure built inside me, coiling tighter and tighter. His praise, the way he was watching me so closely—it was almost too much. Every time his thigh flexed beneath me, it sent another wave of rapture through my body, until I was trembling with need. But I didn't know how to give in.

"You're beautiful like this," Eris whispered, his lips dangerously close to my ear. "Absolutely stunning."

His words were the final push I needed, and with one more roll of my hips, I shattered. A soft cry escaped my lips as pleasure tore through me, my body convulsing against his thigh. His hands held me steady, keeping me from collapsing as I rode out the wave of ecstasy.

For a long moment, I couldn't move, couldn't think. The only sound in the room was my ragged breathing, the world narrowing down to the heat of Eris's body beneath mine and the smug satisfaction radiating from him.

When I finally looked up, his smirk had softened into something almost, tender. He raised a hand to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my flushed skin.

"There you go," he murmured, his voice full of approval. "You did well, angel."

His praise sent a lingering warmth through me, and despite everything, I found myself leaning into his touch. For a moment, just a moment, it felt like more than just a transaction. But I knew better than to let myself believe it.

Eris pulled back, the heat in his eyes still simmering beneath the surface. "You're not done yet," he said, his voice a low growl that made my pulse quicken once more. "Nowhere near it, baby." Eris's grip tightened on my hips, pulling me more securely onto his lap. The warmth of his body seeped through me, and I fought to steady my breathing as the remnants of pleasure still pulsed through my veins. His hands, large and sure, never left me—there was no hurry in his movements, no sense of urgency. Only calm control, as if he had all the time in the world to coax another reaction out of me.

I was still reeling from what had just happened, struggling to comprehend it. To understand how someone like him, someone with such power, and such a cruel reputation, could be so patient. Could focus on me like this.

"Look at you," he whispered, his hands sliding from my hips to my waist, then upward, tracing the curves of my body with deliberate care. "You've never been worshiped, have you?" The words sent a shiver through me, a reminder of how foreign all of this felt. I should have felt more in control, and more confident, but instead, I felt, vulnerable. Exposed in a way I hadn't ever been before.

"I don't—" I started to say, unsure of how to finish. I didn't understand how this was supposed to work. I didn't know what he wanted from me. "How can I service you, My Lord?" I manage to say, despite my orgasm still consuming me down to my very bones.

Eris leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against the curve of my jaw, just beneath my ear. His breath was warm against my skin, sending a ripple of heat down my spine. "It's simple," he murmured. "You find release, and I find mine from watching you unravel."

Before I could respond, his hands began to move again, gliding down my sides with an almost reverent touch. Every caress was measured, and controlled, as though he was savoring every second, every inch of my skin. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

"Don't think," he said softly, his voice barely more than a breath against my neck. "Just feel." He cooed and my brain faltered when I tried wrapping my head around it. This was work, my job, I was being paid for this, this... idolatry.

"Good girl," he whispered, the praise low and warm. His hands continued their slow exploration, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, making me shiver. "I want you to get used to this."

I tensed, biting down on my lip to stifle the soft whimper that threatened to escape. Get used to what? This attention? This feeling? The thought of him focusing on me, of being the one receiving pleasure, still felt strange. But the way his hands moved, the way he murmured soft words of encouragement—it made something inside me melt.

"Eris, I don't... I'm not used to—" I started to say, but it was too much to even voice, to express.

"I know," he said, his voice soothing. "But you're going to learn because I'm going to teach you." He said against my throat, my heart raced, and for the first time, I allowed myself to believe him. To believe that maybe—just maybe—this wasn't about control or power or payment. Maybe he truly did want to give me something in return. Something that had never been offered to me before.

"Relax," Eris repeated, his fingers grazing the tops of my thighs, sending sparks of heat through my body. "Let me worship you."

Worship.

The word sent a tremor through me, and I couldn't stop the soft exhale that escaped my lips. Worship. I had spent years learning how to worship others, and how to make them feel like gods beneath my touch. But this, this was different. This was Eris Vanserra, a male of unimaginable power, offering to gods damned to worship me.

His hands continued their slow, deliberate path, moving higher, his fingers dancing over my skin with reverence. Every touch sent a new wave of heat coursing through me, and I felt my control slipping away, unraveling beneath his ministrations.

"You're tense," he said quietly, his voice full of understanding. "You don't have to be. Not here. Not with me."

My breath hitched as his hands moved back to my waist, pulling me closer to him. The warmth of his body pressed against mine, solid and grounding. I felt his lips brush against the shell of my ear, the sensation so delicate it sent a shiver through me.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear in a ghost of a kiss. "Let me teach you what it's like to be praised."

My chest tightened the vulnerability of his words settling deep inside me. I didn't know how to let go. I didn't know how to take what he was offering. But I wanted to. Oh, gods, I wanted to.

Before I could overthink it, I nodded, the motion small, almost imperceptible. But it was enough.

Eris's smirk softened into something more tender, and he pressed his lips fully to mine, the kiss slow and deliberate. His hands roamed my body with respectful intent, each touch drawing more pleasure, more heat from me than I thought possible.

And for the first time, I allowed myself to revel in it.

His hands were everywhere. Not in a rush, but in a way that felt like he was memorizing every inch of me. His palms skimmed my sides, the curve of my waist, the softness of my thighs. He explored me like I was something precious, a treasure to be savored rather than a tool for pleasure. I'd never felt anything like it.

My mind struggled to catch up. This wasn't supposed to be how it went. I was meant to please him, to give. And yet here he was, still, making me feel like I was the center of the universe. Like he was here for me, and not the other way around.

His lips moved from my mouth, trailing down the side of my neck, his breath warm against my skin. A soft moan escaped me as his tongue flicked against the hollow of my throat, and I felt him smile against my skin.

His hands gripped the hem of my gown and slowly began to lift it. I inhaled sharply, my nerves flaring, but his movements were steady and patient. He paused, giving me the chance to stop him, but I didn't. I couldn't. My body, and my mind—they both craved more.

The gown slid over my hips, the cool air of the room hitting my heated skin as the fabric pooled around my waist. I could feel my pulse racing, could hear the soft rustle of the fabric, but all I could focus on was him—Eris. His hands were on me, his gaze drinking me in as though he had never seen anything more captivating.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. His hands rested on my thighs now, thumbs drawing soft circles over my skin, warming me with every touch. "Let me see all of you."

I hesitated, but there was no judgment in his eyes, only a desire that burned brighter than any fire in the Autumn Court. Slowly, I shifted, letting him lift my gown fully off of me, leaving me bare before him.

Eris's gaze raked over my exposed body, his pupils dilating as he took me in. But instead of feeling vulnerable or objectified like I had countless times before, I felt powerful. Wanted. Craved.

His hands slid back up my thighs, slow and reverent, until he reached the apex of my legs. My breath hitched, and I clenched my thighs together instinctively, but Eris's touch remained gentle, coaxing.

"Relax," he murmured, brushing his lips against my collarbone. "This is for you."

I exhaled shakily, the unfamiliar words settling deep inside me. He wasn't taking; he was giving. It was a concept I struggled to grasp—how could someone like him, a Vanserra, want me to take what I wanted?

His fingers grazed higher, parting my legs gently, giving me space to breathe as he settled between them. I bit my lip, the anticipation building with every second, with every brush of his hands on my skin. His gaze flicked up to mine, and the molten gold in his eyes was enough to make my breath catch.

"Be good for me, yeah?" he said again, his voice like a warm caress. His fingers moved between my legs, slow and teasing, brushing against my most sensitive spot.

The touch sent a shockwave through me, and I gasped, my hands clutching his shoulders for stability. His thumb circled my clit, gentle but firm, applying just the right amount of pressure. I could feel the tension building inside me, winding tighter and tighter with every stroke.

"Take what you need," he whispered, his lips ghosting over my jaw, my neck. "This is yours. I'm yours tonight."

I whimpered, my head falling back as the pleasure began to mount. His fingers worked me expertly, drawing out sounds I hadn't known I was capable of making. Every caress, every touch, was designed to make me come undone.

But as the heat built, I couldn't shake the disbelief. This was meant to be for him, wasn't it? I was supposed to serve. Yet here I was, trembling and teetering on the edge of something I'd never felt before, something overwhelming and wonderful.

Eris seemed to sense my hesitation because his hand slowed, his fingers teasing rather than giving, prolonging the agony. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. "You deserve to feel this," he whispered, his voice deep and rough with desire. "I want to hear you say it."

I could barely form words, could barely think past the haze of pleasure clouding my mind, but his command pulled something raw from me. "I— I deserve this," I whispered, the words trembling on my lips.

His smile against my skin was wicked, triumphant. "Attagirl."

And then, before I could fully process it, he slid two fingers inside me, slow and deliberate, filling me in a way that made my back arch off the bed. I gasped, my body instinctively pressing against his hand, craving more of that delicious friction.

"You feel so perfect," he breathed, his lips pressing hot kisses to my neck as his fingers moved in and out, setting a slow but torturous rhythm. "So tight."

I moaned, my hands fisting in the sheets as I rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was so expertly giving me. His thumb returned to that sensitive spot, circling, teasing, driving me higher and higher.

I was on the edge, teetering between control and chaos, the tension building to a crescendo. His fingers thrust deeper, faster, and the coil inside me snapped, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

I cried out, my body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through me, leaving me trembling in its wake. Eris didn't stop, didn't relent—his fingers continued their delicious torment, drawing every last bit of pleasure from me until I was spent, gasping for air.

When I finally came down from the high, Eris withdrew his hand slowly, and gently, and I collapsed against him, my body trembling, my mind spinning.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his voice soft and full of reverence. "And I'm not done with you yet."

Before I could protest, he shifted, pulling me beneath him and laying me down on his enormous mattress, his body hot and solid against mine. I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh, and I swallowed hard, my body still humming from the aftershocks of pleasure.

Eris leaned down, capturing my lips in a searing kiss, and I felt his hand slide between us, positioning himself at my entrance. He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes molten with desire.

"You alright? Think you're ready for me?"

I nodded, breathless, my heart pounding in my chest and with a slow, deliberate thrust, Eris entered me, filling me completely.

I gasped, my elastic walls stretching around him, adjusting to the sensation of him deep inside me. The weight of his body, the way he fit perfectly between my thighs—it was overwhelming, like he was made for this, made to take me to places I'd never allowed myself to go.

He paused, letting me adjust, his gaze fixed on mine. There was something in the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered, like he could read every flicker of hesitation, every burst of pleasure crossing my face.

"Breathe," he murmured, his voice soft and coaxing. He brushed his lips against my jaw, the warmth of his breath grounding me. "You're doing so well, sweet girl."

I let out a shaky breath, nodding as I tried to relax into the sensation. His praise made something warm bloom inside me, something unfamiliar but not unwelcome. The tension that had coiled around me since I stepped into his chambers began to unravel, slowly giving way to something softer, more intoxicating.

He shifted his hips, moving within me, at a slow, languid pace that sent heat spiraling through my veins. Each thrust was controlled, and measured, like he was savoring every second, every sound that escaped me.

"I want to hear you," he whispered against my ear. "Every moan, every gasp. Don't hold back."

I bit my lip, stifling the sounds that threatened to spill over, but his next thrust, deeper and more purposeful, tore a moan from my throat. My body arched beneath him, seeking more of that delicious friction, more of the pleasure that was building between us like a fire.

Eris groaned softly, his breath ragged as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the curve of my shoulder. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me to meet his slow rhythm, each movement a reminder of just how much control he had—control he was choosing to give me.

"You feel so perfect," he breathed, his voice raw. "Like you were made for me."

The heat in his words, the way they wrapped around me like silk, made me clench around him. His pace quickened slightly, his control slipping just enough for me to feel the urgency building beneath the surface.

I let out a soft whimper, my hands grasping at his shoulders as I pulled him closer, needing more of him, needing to drown in the way he made me feel. It was too much and not enough all at once—every thrust bringing me closer to that edge, to the place where my body and mind could no longer resist.

Eris seemed to sense my rising need, his hips snapping forward with a little more force, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. His lips found mine again, devouring me in a kiss that was hungry, desperate. He swallowed my moans, his body grinding against mine in a way that made me lose all sense of the world outside of this moment.

"You're close, aren't you?" he rasped, his forehead pressed against mine. His hand slid between our bodies, his thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. "I want to feel you come around me."

The way he touched me, the way his words wrapped around me like a command and a plea, it sent me hurtling toward the edge. I couldn't hold on any longer, couldn't resist the pull of the pleasure that built inside me.

I cried out, my body trembling beneath him as the orgasm ripped through me, stronger than anything I had ever felt before. My muscles clenched around him, dragging him deeper, and I could feel him groan, feel his body tense as he chased his own release.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Taking me so well." His pace quickened, his thrusts more erratic now as he sought his own pleasure, the fire in his eyes burning brighter as he watched me fall apart beneath him. I was barely coherent, my mind lost to the pleasure, but I could feel him—every inch of him, every sound, every touch, searing into my skin.

With a final, deep thrust, he groaned low and guttural, his body shuddering as he found his release inside me. The warmth of him, the way he collapsed against me, breathless and spent, sent aftershocks rippling through my body.

For a long moment, neither of us moved, the only sound in the room the soft, ragged breaths we shared. Eris's weight was comforting, and grounding, and I found myself clinging to him, my hands still tangled in his hair, my body still trembling from the intensity of what had just passed between us.

He shifted slightly, pressing a soft kiss to my temple, his hand brushing soothingly over my side. "You did so well," he whispered, his voice full of admiration. "So perfect."

I didn't know what to say, how to process the fact that someone had just taken the time to worship me, to make me feel something I had never been allowed to feel. But as I lay there, wrapped in his warmth, I couldn't help but feel... cherished. For the first time, I wasn't just a courtesan. I wasn't just here to serve.

He pulled back slightly, his fingers trailing over my flushed skin, his eyes soft as they met mine. "Are you alright?" he asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.

I nodded, unable to form words yet, still coming down from the high he had pulled me into. He smiled at that, a small, satisfied smirk that made my heart skip a beat.

After it was over, we lay tangled together, our bodies slick with sweat, my chest still heaving from the intensity of it all. Eris's breath was warm against my skin, his hands trailing over my back in slow, soothing circles. The quiet intimacy that followed the storm of passion was disarming, and unfamiliar. I was used to being dismissed, sent away with a few gold coins and a soul a little dimmer than when I had arrived.

But Eris, asked me to stay. So I did. He held me close, his touch reverent, as if I was something precious, something to be cherished, not discarded.

"You're trembling," he whispered against my temple, his lips brushing the area. "Are you cold?"

I wasn't, but I nodded anyway, unsure how to explain that the tremors were more from the emotional upheaval than any physical discomfort. Without a word, Eris shifted, reaching for the blankets and pulling them over both of us, wrapping me in warmth. His arm remained around me, pulling me back against his chest, his fingers stroking my arm gently. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt safe.

"Rest," he murmured, his voice soft and comforting. "You've earned it." It was an order I found myself willing to obey. My body, exhausted from the overwhelming pleasure, began to give way to the heavy pull of sleep. I hadn't realized how much I craved this—this gentleness, this quiet comfort. The idea that I could just be held, without expectation, without obligation.

Before long, the steady rise and fall of Eris's breathing lulled me into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I woke, the room was bathed in the dim light of early morning. Eris was still beside me, his arm draped lazily over my waist, his face softened in sleep. I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and... and something else. Something I wasn't ready to name.

What had happened last night—what he had done to me—had altered something deep inside me. Eris hadn't just touched my body, he had touched a part of me I hadn't known existed. He had made me feel like more than just a tool for someone else's desires. At that moment, I hadn't been just a courtesan. I had been a woman, his woman, worthy of pleasure and tenderness.

But as the warmth of that realization settled over me, so did the cold truth. He was the son of a High Lord. I was nothing more than a whore.

The thought hit me like a weight in my chest, making it hard to breathe. This couldn't be real. Whatever had passed between us last night couldn't mean anything. It couldn't. And yet, the way he had touched me, the way he had looked at me—like I was something more—had shaken everything I thought I knew about my place in this world.

How could I ever go back to who I was before? How could I move on from this, from him, when he had shown me a version of myself I had never seen?

I turned my head slightly, studying the sharp lines on his face, and the soft fall of his red hair across the pillow. He was beautiful, yes, but more than that, he was dangerous—dangerous in the way he made me hope. Hope for something I had no right to even dream of.

But what other choice did I have?

I closed my eyes, swallowing against the lump in my throat. I had to be realistic. This was one night. One perfect, beautiful night, but it couldn't be anything more. He would go back to his life, to his duties as a lord's son, and I would return to Madame Kamira's house, to my place among the other courtesans.

Still, as I lay there in his arms, the warmth of his body pressed against mine, I couldn't stop the yearning that twisted deep in my chest. I wanted more. I wanted to know what other nights with him might be like, what it would feel like to be worshipped by him again, to be held like I was something precious. But even as the thought bloomed in my mind, I felt the sting of reality pulling me back.

Eris stirred beside me, his golden eyes fluttering open. He blinked a few times, focusing on me, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, I saw something soft in his gaze. Something that made my chest tighten with a dangerous mix of longing and fear.

"Good morning," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "I was afraid I'd dreamt you." His voice was still affected by sleep, deep and groggy.

"Oh? Did I leave that much of an impression?" I replied, a smile already tugging at my lips before I could stop it. "I'm very real."

"Thank the gods for that," he mused, propping his head up on his elbow and reaching over with his free hand, brushing my most likely messy hair from my face. The action was so simple, yet intimate. "And how do you feel? Last night was quite eventful."

"Eventful," I echoed softly, a slight laugh escaping my lips. "That's one way to put it."

Eris chuckled, the sound rich and deep, and it made my heart skip again. "I could come up with other words but I think you'd turn red if I did." He hummed, leaning closer, his nose brushing against mine.

"You might be right," I murmured, growing shy with our proximity— despite the fact that he had me grinding on him just last night. I glance away and to my relief, he rears back. "I have to admit, you surprised me," I confess.

He dips down, his lips brushing against my neck. "Yeah? How so angel?" He asked while pressing a soft kiss to one of the marks he left mere hours ago.

"You made me feel things I thought weren't capable," I utter, peering down at him.

His lips paused on my neck, his gaze flicking up, staring at me through his brows, studying me. "And what is it you felt?"

"Adoration," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "Like I was more than just, a service." I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat.

A slow smile spread across his lips, and he moved back up, his breath brushing against my cheek. "Angel, you’re not a service." His voice dropped to a teasing whisper. "You could've asked for anything last night, and I would've given it to you."

"Oh? Anything?" I teased back, arching a brow.

"Anything," he confirmed, his voice deepening as his fingers trailed softly down my arm. "You deserve to be adored. In fact, I rather enjoyed worshipping you."

I rolled my eyes, though my pulse was racing. "You have such a way with words, don't you?"

He smirked, not missing a beat. "You're just realizing this now?" He asked, running a hand up my shoulder, past my jaw to cup my cheek.

"Maybe," I shot back with a smirk of my own. "I was a bit, distracted last night." His thumb grazed my bottom lip as I spoke, his gaze never leaving mine.

"You weren't the only one." For a moment, the playful tone between us softened. My heart thudded against my chest as I realized how much I wanted to stay here, basking in his attention. His gaze flicked down to my lips and I quickly reminded myself of the reality we lived in—the boundaries we couldn't ignore.

"I should go," I said suddenly, my voice shaky as I slipped from his arms, pulling the sheets around me like a protective barrier. "I have other clients to tend to." The weight of my words settled heavily in the air, and I saw the flicker of disappointment cross his face, quickly masked by resolve.

"I'll see you again, won't I?" His tone was earnest as I slipped from the bed, pulling on my discarded gown and trying to ignore the way his eyes never left my figure once.

"Depends, will you call for me?" I tilt my head with a teasing smile, he looks up at me, tucking a muscular arm behind his head— it was an effort not to slip back into bed next to the heir.

"Every night, if I have to," He grinned like a cat.

"Careful, you'll run out of money before you know it," I taunt, reaching down and brushing a tuft of red hair from his forehead, I hadn’t meant to— but my body wasn’t my own when I was around him.

"You seem to underestimate how deep my pockets go, sweetheart," He purred, I ran my fingertips down the side of his face in a caress as gentle as a lovers.

"Do I?" I ask playfully, and he catches my wrist before I can brush my thumb over his slightly swollen lips. His hold was soft, yet as immovable as iron, a warning.

"I might just buy you all for myself if you keep teasing me," He suggests and my breath hitched at the idea. He arches a brow.

"You like that idea?" It was his turn to smirk. "Leaving your Madames house and becoming my personal whore," His hand slipped into mine, bringing my palm to his lips and kissing it gently. "Lover behind closed doors?" He suggests and I swallow thickly, not allowing myself to even imagine the fantasy— nor think about how desperately I wished for that.

"And when you grow bored of me?" I ask. "Will you cast me to the streets?"

He looked as if he might have scoffed at the idea if it weren't for the glimmer of hope he caught in my eyes. "Bored of you? My angel, I've only laid with you for a night. It'll be lifetimes before I'm done with the list of things I wish to do to you." He purred and my heart fluttered, gut twisting at the promise of pleasure. "Are you sure that's what you want?" He added and I doubt I had ever nodded in agreement to something faster in my life.

"Yes— please," I blurt and he chuckled, kissing my palm again.

"Then come back to bed, and when your Madame comes to riot for your return I'll give her triple what she thinks you're worth," He declared and I blushed, unsure what to say to convey how eternally grateful I was. He tugged on my hand and all I could do was get back into bed beside him.

"My angel," He whispered softly, and his next words seemed to leave a mark on me more permanent than any of the ones he had given to me last night. "You deserve every dream you've dared to wish for, let me give them to you.”

Comment or reblog with a “💋” to be added to the kinktober taglist!

Kinktober Taglist: @a-courtof-azriel @rosecobollway @bookwormysblog @whataenginerd @sassyangel16 @lorosette @92404-blog1 @skittslackoffilter @scorpioriesling @pey2618 @scarsandallaz @azysmate @iluvyewman-blog @obliviouslittleminx @hailqueenconquer @buckysfavoritedoll @fourthwing4ever

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @hufflepuff-pa55 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @ivy-34 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @mamita-vera

351 notes · View notes

lalunanymph · 1 year ago

Text

who’s your (baby) daddy. [3]

╰┈➤ After being dumped by your boyfriend of 3 years, you decide to switch things up and go on your own version of a “hot girl summer”—subsequently finding yourself with a surprise that would arrive in 9 months time. The catch? You have absolutely no idea which of the men you slept with is your baby’s daddy.

𖨆♡𖨆 nanami x reader, gojou x reader, toji x reader, sukuna x reader

# mechanic!toji, explicit smut, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of babies, girlies fighting, mentions of food, toji is a deadbeat dad wbk minors and ageless blogs dni

‗ ❍ masterlist

You were never one to be this reckless.

All your life, you were raised by two strict parents who always taught you to look both ways before you crossed the roads, to always ask as many questions as you could and never take things at face value.

Growing up, you were defined as being ‘bossy’ by people around you, a term loosely thrown at any young girl who exhibited even a shred of backbone; the kind of treatment that a man would never get in this world.

And so, this perspective was what shaped you to be the best at what you did—to give your all, but to always be cautious in what you were giving away in the first place.

What your parents, school and life failed to teach you was to not believe in a handsome and charming man. For the day you met Fushiguro Toji was the day when that caution all went down the drain. Little did you know that a chance meeting with him would result in you fainting in the middle of an OBGYN’s room like one of those delicate princesses from cartoons you used to watch when you were younger, with that man being the first one to catch you before you jarred to the ground.

But, to get to the present, you had to first backtrack through the past.

It was a few weeks after that party in the Getos residence when you were given an assignment to go to the countryside—of all places—to interview an anonymous worker who wanted to spill on the conditions of his factory.

Mia had once told you that a good story was like a sandcastle—you could build and build it as much as you wanted from a variety of leads, but once the relevant people caught wind, they would descend upon that little sand house of evidence you built to knock it back to the ground. But, there was another thing those secretive higher-ups failed to recognize; how journalists always waited for the tide to recede before striking.

At that time, the case had been red-hot and you were the first one on the frontlines to catch it.

You had driven all the way towards the outskirts of Tokyo, towards the sleepy town of Kamakura—a journey of almost 2 hours with the traffic—where the worker would be waiting for you in a nondescript cafe to tell you his side of the story. Back then, you had no idea if you were already pregnant or if it had not happened just yet; all you recalled was how swelteringly hot it was.

The cafe offered a cool respite and you ducked under the awning, tightening your blazer around your shoulders. He was a short, flat-nosed man with a northern dialect who gestured too much that he almost knocked back your cup of coffee. Nonetheless, you did your job, hmming and ohhing when he divulged a new piece of mistreatment, only getting to the juicy parts half an hour into your conversation.

“And that's why the deal fell through.” You perked up and positioned your recorder closer to him, frowning.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes,” he enthused, “It was because of that near lawsuit. All the big guys were talking about it near the watercooler,” he puffed out his chest, mimicking the deep drawl of Kaizen’s top executive. “‘Those damn assholes—they always ruin everything. Told ya we shouldn’t have made a deal with those trigger-happy vultures’.”

“I see,” you furiously scribbled down his words verbatim.

He was happy to spill more about the company’s numerous HR violations, and you had literally gasped when you heard they were denying work VISAs to their immigrant workers. It all made your blood boil.

Towards the end of the interview, you bowed to him and he did the same, double and even triple checking that you would not mention his name in your piece. You made the solemn promise that you did not, and that he would be termed as an ‘anonymous whistleblower’.

The sun was already setting when you decided to drive back to Tokyo, and you reasoned that it would not take you long. That was before you drove over a nail, and your back tire exploded, causing you to swerve and hit the side of the road, your yell of fear giving way to the unbearable stillness of disbelief.

No fucking way.

You exhaled out a low groan and slammed your head to the steering wheel. Just fucking great. Here you were, stuck in the middle of god knows where on a stretch of road with nothing but a field of wildflowers as far as the eye could see. Miserably, you stared at the clock, watching the minutes slip by, stubbornly refusing to head out and check on your tire; maybe if you closed your eyes hard enough, you’d awake in your bed to find this all a horrible nightmare.

Fingers twitching, your first instinct was to call Kento.

But, reality set in and you remembered that he was no longer someone you could freely call. You no longer had the privilege to call him up whenever you wished, to hear his voice and how he sighed in defeat at your clumsiness but would always come to save you even if you never asked.

It wouldn’t hurt to call him just this once… wouldn’t it?

You had no idea which entity possessed you to reach for your phone. His number was always the first one on your contact list, where it rightfully belonged. But what if he blocked you? You shook those thoughts from your mind and focused on the dial tone.

Ring… ring… ring…

Your heart sank all the way to your stomach. Of course he would not pick up. It was a Friday evening and he was probably with another girl. Kento did not need you in his life any longer.

“Hello?”

Your voice caught at the back of your throat.

“Hello? Y/N?”

It’s incredible how someone’s voice had the ability to bring back a wave of memories. You closed your eyes and did not reply.

“Y/N? Hey—you okay?” Nanami was not a man who was easily concerned, having been around enough volatile situations at work to hone his veneer of apathy. But, the worry in his voice was unmistakable. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you hurt—?”

Suddenly, your common sense returned. You shouldn't have called him in the first place. Clicking the red button, you ended the call and sagged forward, clutching the phone in your hand and pressing it to your forehead. Idiot. You were such an idiot. Your cheeks were wet and you sniffed, wiping the back of your hand over your nose.

A familiar chord from a well-loved song played from the radio.

Living alone… I think of all the friends I've known… But when I dial the telephone… Nobody's home…

All by myself, you mouthed the song's lyrics, sinking back into your car seat. “Damn it,” you groaned and forced yourself to straighten, roughly pushing the button to cut the song off before you could faint from crying too much and dying of carbon monoxide poisoning. Silence descended upon you like a thick fog.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to spend the night here, you reasoned.

Skyscrapers and tall buildings were swapped out for thick trees and a lack of light pollution. Perhaps you could even see the stars tonight, something you had not done since you were a little girl. Perhaps—

A loud knock on your window jolted you from your reverie.

It was the bulk of a man and judging from his frame, he was huge.

You shrank back into your car seat, praying he did not see you. “I’m going to die, I’m going to die.” So this was how you were to meet your demise; murdered in the middle of a flower field. Did your insurance cover this? You really should have read the manual. In the throes of your thoughts, you hadn’t anticipated him moving to your window and tapping on it.

A squeak fell from your mouth and you cracked the window open slightly.

The face that greeted you took your breath away. Dark blue eyes that were closer to navy, inky black locks that fell across his forehead and a smirk on his scarred lips. Holy shit.

“Car trouble, miss?”

You meekly nodded and scanned down his impressive chest and abdomen. You wanted to tell yourself you were searching for a hint of a weapon, but that was a lie. God, how was his chest that defined under that tight black shirt?

Swallowing, you cracked the window wider and meekly nodded. “I t-think I ran over a nail.”

“Let me take a look,” he offered and raised a thumb towards the front of the road. “I have a workshop nearby. I can fix it for ya. That good with ya?”

You were surprised to find a tow truck in your rearview mirror and gazed at him with wide eyes. “H-how did you know—?”

“I was driving past here and saw the flat tire,” he explained with that same infuriating smirk. “Thought I could try my luck and see who needed my help.”

Your answering laugh was hollow and you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting out of the car. This close, he was taller—almost towering over you and you felt like a rag doll next to him. Though he seemed nice enough, your guard was still up.

“Sure. That’d be great.”

At your words, he nodded towards the tow truck. “Get in the front. I’ll hook ‘er right up.” His jeans were covered with grease stains and his hands had the hard look of labor on them. Perhaps he was telling the truth. By now, the sun was slowly making its grand exit, the shades of night soon drawing close. There was no way you could drive back home in this state, not when your chest felt tight and you were terrified of driving in the dark.

You obediently followed and sat in the cracked passenger seat, fidgeting with your fingers. He got into the driver’s side and with his sheer size, his shoulder was almost brushing yours. He looked like one of those obnoxious gym bros but the way he carried himself was more subdued, a confidence that did not need to be compensated with flexing and Instagram likes. His vibe was unmatched and you found yourself easing around him.

He drove the tow truck forward and you observed his roughened but deft hands hitch the hook underside and secured it in place. In a matter of efficient minutes, he had done the job and hopped back in, the truck jerking to life.

“Wear your seatbelt.” You scrambled to click the buckle and continued fidgeting with the straps of your purse.

“So, where’d you come from?” he asked amicably and you glanced at him, startled that he was making conversation. “Ya look spooked, so I’m guessing not from here, eh?”

“No,” you murmured, “I’m from Tokyo.”

“What’s a city girl like you doing here?” A lilting teasing tone that made you wonder if he was holding back laughter at your state. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you shyly laced your fingers together.

“I was here for a business interview. I work at a newspaper publishing company.”

You had no idea why you were divulging this to him. For all you knew, he could’ve been an axe murderer who picked up women using this modus operandi and he was planning to take you back to his lair before chopping you up into pieces.

As if sensing you tense, he glanced at you. “The name’s Toji. Fushiguro Toji. What’s yours?”

“Y/N,” you said and did not give your last name. “Thanks for helping me, Fushiguro-san.”

“I ain’t doing this out of the goodness of my heart, doll,” he drawled and there was something in the wake of his mischievous smile. “I ain’t charity.”

Somehow, this prickly admission made you loosen and you found a smile on your face. “Honest. I like that.”

His laughter was low and almost smoky, which gave you the illusion that he was someone who smoked. The scenery flew past—rolling hills and miles of fields that sprawled out like a Van Gogh painting. Though you had never been much for the countryside, you could understand why city people regularly flocked to the safety of the greener pastures when the smog and fray got too much.

Ahead, a simple mechanic workshop attached to a double-storey home came into view. Toji carefully parked the tow truck and told you to wait inside. Those rippling muscular arms were put into good use when he physically pushed your car into the workshop, immediately getting to work.

He toiled under your curious stare. For someone of his build and burly strength, he was surprisingly nimble with the tools, and in what seemed like a whir of screwing, pumping and a lot of grunting, your car was fixed. By now, it was purely dark and you could barely make out the fields outside his windows and shivered to think of what could hide inconspicuously in those stalks of waving, tall grass.

“Okay, I’ve fixed your tire.”

You nearly jumped from your skin, momentarily forgetting that he was here with you.

“What’s wrong?”

Toji’s curiosity edged you to explain, not wanting him to get a wrong impression of why you had suddenly paled.

“It’s—uh… dark.”

“That tends to happen when night comes.” He was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of worry in his tone. Something about him—whether his presence or his unassuming dark blue eyes—made you blurt out the truth.

“I’m…” you twisted the keys in your fingers, stalling. “... do you know if there’s a motel nearby that I can bunk in for the night?”

He snorted. “You ‘fraid of driving in the night?”

When you didn’t reply, he got his answer. “Shit. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark?”

Wincing, you cleared your throat, adopting an air of sheepishness to ward off his judgement. “Yeah. I had a bad accident when I was younger; I tend to stay away from roads when there’s no sun.”

There was contemplation when he rapped his knuckles atop your car’s roof.

“You said Tokyo, right?”

“Yeah.”

Toji kissed his teeth and stared out of his workshop’s window. “Hmm. I have a spare room. You could crash there.”

You didn’t dare believe it. The cautious part of you—the one that looked twice before crossing any road—was screaming at you to not take him up on his offer. But the other part—the one that could not even bear to look out the window when driving past a pitch black road, shuddered at the thought of making the arduous journey back into the city.

Images of thieves, ghosts, scarecrows and even aliens flashed in your mind.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he amended and you considered your options.

“You don’t mind?”

“If by not minding ya mean I won’t charge ya, then no,” he said, a tinge of amusement in his tone.

You couldn't’ help the grin that tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Okay. I’ll stay out of your way—it’s just for tonight.”

Toji nodded and swept one large hand in front of him, gesturing for you to follow. You did, staring at the broad muscles of his back and wondering how a guy in the countryside got this buff. But, it made sense; he was a mechanic and he seemed to work alone.

He fumbled with his keys before unlocking the door, letting you step in first. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Like his workshop, his home was bare and sparsely furnished. Everything had a use and everything was in its place; it seemed ordinary enough.

“This is… nice.”

“You think so?”

“There’s no axe hanging on the wall so I guess I have to count myself lucky.”

He laughed at your joke; a full-bodied, low sound that was pleasing to hear. Toji showed you to your room and even left you a spare towel and a set of old clothes that looked like it belonged to a woman—perhaps a girlfriend.

“Hey, you sure this person doesn’t mind me using her stuff?” you poked your head past the door to quip at him. Toji was halfway boiling some water and he flickered his gaze to you, shrugging.

“She’s not here.”

“Your girl?” you frowned, wondering if it was too late to refuse his offer despite how much the simple yet wide bed was beckoning you for rest.

“Ex,” he intoned from the kitchen. “Broken up months ago. She left some clothes here so might as well, eh?”

Pursing your lips, you decided not to push him too much on this. Rather, you shut the door, locking it for good measure before starting to undress. The hot water was a soothing salve on your sore muscles and you sighed, dunking your head under the stream and letting it wash your tiredness away.

You scrubbed your skin until it shone, washed your hair and even used some of his shampoo. Halfway through, the stream turned into a trickle and eventually, the water stopped altogether. Still with suds in your hair, you frowned and wrapped your towel around you.

“Hey, Toji?”

“Yeah?”

He sounded far away and from the distance, you could hear the commentary of a sports event or another humming low in the background.

“Your shower isn't working.”

“Seriously? Fuck—this dump always had plumbing problem.” His grumbling grew closer and if he found you disconcerting in just a towel, he didn’t comment on it, averting his eyes politely. Toji bent down to check the pipe, mumbling under his breath and you tried not to get too puddles on his flooring.

“Fuck!”

A jet of water seemed to explode around the both of you, drenching you and completely soaking him, your shriek echoing across the tiles. Toji blindly reached for the piping and twisted it, the water stopping and leaving the both of you blinking.

“Shit, you’re all wet.”

Toji groaned, scarred lips twisted into a frown. Uncaring that a stranger was right in front of him, he peeled his shirt from his glistening abdomen, tossing it onto the floor. You fought hard not to ogle at his defined muscles, preferring to drop your stare and find the cracks of your toes more interesting than this fine specimen of a man.

“Not exactly something a man wants to hear.”

“Not exactly something I envisioned telling a man in the first place.”

Your retort caught him off-guard and his gaze touched yours. Biting down on a smile, you had to stop yourself from laughing at how the strands of inky locks dripping down his chiselled features reminded you of a disgruntled dog.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not! Here—” you quickly passed him the smaller towel and he wiped the droplets from his face, his exacerbated annoyance making it hard not to burst out into peals of giggles. His annoyance was palpable and you reigned your reactions in, taking a step back to give him space, but it was a wrong move.

Your feet slipped on the slick floor and you squealed, heart dropping to your stomach as you lost your balance and jarred onto the floor.

“Y/N!”

Strong arms reached for you, holding you up and bringing you back to your feet. Your heart was hammering a mile a minute, your cheek pressed to his pecs as you steadied your breathing.

“Shit.”

“Y-you okay?” you were surprised to find a waver in his tone when he eyed your quickly scrambling form. You cursed and hitched the towel higher around your bare breasts.

“Y-yeah.”

The towel had slipped up and exposed the split of your thighs where a searing pain was spreading across your hip. You cursed and rubbed the bump, cursing under your breath, face twisted in pain.

“Shit—looks like it’s g’na bruise. Wait, I’ll get first aid.”

Toji gingerly let you go and left the bathroom. You hobbled out, mindful of your steps and collapsed onto the bed, still massaging the tender spot, your teeth clenched as the waves of pain ebbed and flowed around you.

He returned and found you on the bed, still alleviating the pain and burying your groans into the sheets. Gentle hands brushed yours aside and you jumped when you felt him prod the bruise.

“Ow!”

“Sorry—needed to see how bad it was.”

You whimpered when he rubbed some ointment onto the welt, his touch now softer than before. He barely gave you time to flinch away when he peeled your towel back further, the dark triangle between your legs peeking through, your modesty all but ruined in front of this gorgeous stranger.

His touch was soothing and instead of closing your eyes and enjoying it, you preferred to use humour as a tool of deflection to ward off the awkwardness that clung between the both of you like a film of grease. “Do you always bring women home to your shitty plumbing and give them near concussions?”

You winced when he placed a bandage over the injury; his snort of laughter both reeked of annoyance and amusement in one breath.

“Nope. You’re the first.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Despite meeting him for a short moment, you could tell that he had rolled his eyes. Once he patched you up and left you to dress, you took the chance to make amends and sought him out. He was seated at the dining table, dressed once more and nursing a mug of tea. Without asking, he reached for a spare cup and poured you a drink, asking without words to join him.

And you did, tentatively taking a seat opposite of him.

Understanding the fact that this night had already started off on a weird footing, you decided to lean into it rather than resist.

“So, Toji from Kamakura. What brings you here?”

He clicked his tongue, a sly grin in place. “Tryna unearth my deepest secrets already?”

You took a sip of the warm beverage, feeling its curls of comfort radiating deep in your chest. You had no idea why you were so adamant on telling yourself you were never one to be reckless when here you were, drinking from a stranger’s cup, staying under his roof and hoping to God he did not lace your tea with a roofie.

“Why? Afraid I’ll recognize your name?”

“Maybe you would.”

You couldn’t tell if he was serious and he let you ferment in your discomfort before breaking the tension with a snort.

“I was from Tokyo, too. Came from a rich but terrible family. Ran away when I was 17 and never looked back. You?”

Oh. You deflated a bit and shared with him a fleeting smile.

“My parents were accountants but I never took that route. Loved words more than numbers.”

He hummed. “So, you combined them both?”

“Well, you gotta appease your parents sometimes.”

“I get that.” You had a thought that no, he didn’t. Toji did not seem like a guy that played by anyone’s rules or games; he marched to the beat of his own damn drum as evident from the curling tattoos around his arm and the unusual scar across his lips.

Without thinking, you reached out and brushed the tips of your fingers lightly on his skin, admiring the pattern and swirls.

“I like the design. Was always thinking about getting a tattoo.”

“You should,” he said, voice gruff. But, he did not make a move to shift away from you.

“May I see more of it?” Your request was timid, and from the pause that vibrated between the both of you like the echoes of a gong, you would think he was going to refuse. But, Toji was proving to surprise you at every turn and pushed the sleeve of his black crew neck sweater up, revealing more of the distinct whorls that seemed to bloom from his tanned and scarred skin.

“Here.”

You traced one design lightly, unaware at how his breathing had turned ragged, not when you glanced up at him.

Those dark blues drowned you in their depths and you felt like you could not breathe.

“Toji—”

He leaned in, palm skimming your cheek. The air seemed to spark and burn like metal meeting metal and you found you wanted to discover if those flickers would catch aflame.

“You know… I never do this, but…”

He did not finish his sentence, not when you bridged the gap and pressed your lips to his. He tasted of chamomile and nicotine, and when his tongue dipped into the crevices of your mouth, cajoling yours into a sultry dance, you found you liked the weight of his unsaid words between your teeth.

Toji pulled back slightly, flickering his eyes back to your lips as if he could retrace them by memory alone.

“Do you wanna—”

“Yeah,” you tried to hide how heavily you were breathing but it was no use. Every rise and fall of your chest throbbed with the growing attraction you could not hide. “Want it.”

“Y/N—”

Proving to yourself that you were more reckless than you discredited yourself with, you clambered onto his lap, thighs pressed on either side of his hips, the shirt he gave you riding up slightly to reveal the soft flesh of your stomach.

Toji cupped your face in both of his palms, calloused thumbs brushing your cheekbones. He brought you forward, tipping you over to him and drinking from your lips once more, a desperate edge in his kisses this time. Your moans were swallowed by his infuriatingly soft kisses, that plush mouth like a flower blossoming under your lips, letting you shyly sampling the stain of nicotine on his tongue.

How could a mere kiss leave you panting like you had run a marathon? Whatever spell Toji casted on you, it worked and you fixed him with a half-lidded gaze. “More—please.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice. Putting those burly muscles to good use, Toji picked you up effortlessly, your bare thighs straddling his tapered waist as he took swift strides towards a room you haven't noticed—one hidden behind a wall. Keeping you still in his arms where you could feel every ripple of his defined muscles pressed against your body, you could not stop yourself from nibbling and sucking the salt off his neck, your moans clashing hotly on his sensitive skin.

A quick grunt, and your pajamas were ripped off your body, leaving you bare and spread for his eyes. Tonight, you threw away your preconceived worries about constantly being the cautious one and embraced the insanity. It seemed that Toji and you were on the same wavelength and he peeled off his tight black shirt off his frame, letting you ogle at just how ripped he was.

It was obscene how good he looked above you, and it seemed like your legs parted automatically for him to settle between them. Those dark blue eyes were riddled with lust, a smirk growing on his scarred lips—the same lips that made their way down the column of your throat. There was no reason why you let out a lustful moan beyond the fact that every touch of his lips on your skin sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, going south to settle deeply in the centre of your body; your clit twitching when he tongued your nipples.

There was no gentleness when he flipped you over to your hands and knees, your face pushed into the woolen blankets that smelled musky and almost soapy—exactly like how Toji smelled like. Imbued with the scent of him that seemed to saturate your every pore and the feel of his lips on your neck, the hot press of his calloused fingers mapping a straight line down your back like he was tracing the spine of a book.

Like a well-loved story, you unfurled yourself for him, letting him pinch your nipples and teasingly run his cock through your soaked folds. Heavy breathing filled the space between the both of you, curling around like thick smoke, choking you back with the pressure of his cockhead slowly splitting you open.

“Fuck. You’re so tight.”

You scrambled to hold onto reality; it had been far too long since you felt a cock this good in you. “Toji—ngh!”

It was dawning on you how much of an enigma Toji truly was—he fucked you like you were nothing but a whore, ramming his hips against yours, palming your breasts and slapping the plush flesh. But there was a softness in how he placed hot, open mouth kisses down your neck that made your toes curl, how those same rough palms ran down your sides, the callouses rasping against your skin leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

With his larger build, it was easy for him to bear down on you, press your entire frame to his bed and manoeuvre you however he wanted. Those same coarse fingers touched your clit, rubbing tight circles on it, leaving pangs of pleasure that got you clenching down on his cock. Tips of his inky locks brushed your shoulder and you gasped when he bit down on your pulse point, that sudden sharp burst of pain getting you threateningly close to the edge.

The slick feeling of his precum staining your thighs and your juices barely gave his cock any friction and restraint from reaching all the way to the neck of your cervix.

“God—Toji!” you cried and pressed one palm onto your lower stomach, eyes growing wide at how you could feel him there. “C-can feel you so deep.”

“Yeah—I’m all the way here, beautiful?” he draped his larger palm on yours, grunting when your soft mewls touched the shell of his ear, the pleasure growing too much for both of you to hold back. Like a tidal wave, your orgasm was building, reaching massive heights and you were half afraid to come down.

“Toji—!”

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Go ahead and mess up my cock.” One strong arm wrapped around you and pressed you tight to his defined chest. “I’ll be here to catch you, baby.”

“Condom!” you gasped and patted his hand to let you go. Rather than letting you out of his sight, Toji lifted you up, twisting you so that your tits were pressed to his chest and all you could do to not let your bum slam to the ground was to keep your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Where?” he grunted. Your head was growing lighter—Toji was literally dragging you up and down his cock as he walked, strong enough to keep fucking you without a break.

“My room,” you squealed and he brought you to a different spot; you had never been this fast in your life to rummage through your purse and reach for a packet, ripping the silver square in haste and letting him pull out long enough to cover his lewdly shiny cock with the rubber.

Taking over from where you both left off, Toji slammed you against the wall, his scarred mouth to your eye level and you tipped your head up, your legs helplessly shaking in the air. There was no doubt your arms would be sore tomorrow, your core all but bent in half to take his thick girth into your creamy depths.

“Toji, Toji—”

“Cum for me, doll. Cum for me.”

Who were you to deny him, especially when he snarled at you to give in and flood his cock.

Your release broke with a vengeance and you screamed out his name, hips canting madly to milk his cock, feeling his seed dripping down your thighs. You were too tired to even complain when he sat you down on the bed and removed the condom, splatters of white droplets painting your lower belly.

“Mhm—Toji...”

“Go to sleep,” he reassured, “I’ll get cleaned up and join you.”

But, you were out before he could even fulfill his promise and as he returned back into the guest room to find you completely out cold, he had to smile. Getting in next to you,Toji leaned over and clicked off the light switch, the room drenched in darkness and the soft whistles of your snores.

“Goodnight, Y/N from Tokyo,” he whispered as he pulled up the quilt to your chin, hiding your naked body from his sight to give you some semblance of decency. He was unsure of how you would react the next morning when you woke up… or god forbid when you found out the truth about him.

But, Toji did not let those thoughts ruin the glow of his post-orgasm bliss.

If there was one thing Toji was certain about, it would be this—there truly was not another woman like you for miles around him in this sleepy down.

Sunlight tickled your eyes and you pried open your lids, finding yourself pressed close to another warm body.

The memories of last night came back with stunning clarity and your cheeks were warmer than a sun-drenched rock, disbelief in yourself for how you had given yourself completely to this stranger. A handsome stranger, but regardless, he was still someone you didn't know very well.

“Morning.” Crap—the hot stranger was awake.

You did not respond, scrunching your eyes close tightly in hopes he would believe you were still asleep and did not force you to go through with this awkwardness.

“Your snores stopped—I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

Deciding that you could not delay the inevitable, you pried your eyes open to fix him with a sheepish smile. “Morning,” you croaked, stale breath making you wince. But Toji did not pay any mind to these natural occurrences and offered you a small smile.

“Gonna take a shower.”

You hummed, peeling your sticky, naked body out of his embrace. “Don’t bump your head.”

“Ha—fucking—ha.” You watched the ripped curve of his back leave the bed and forced your eyes to tear away from literally ogling at him and risking being called a pervert this early in the morning.

You laid in the wide bed, stretching your arms overhead and enjoying the thrill of birds outside the window. Something about the country seemed charming enough and you briefly allowed yourself to muse how your life would be if you were to leave the city and start a new life away from the fog, the noise pollution, the memory of Kento on every street you walked on—

The loud ring of the doorbell jolted you from your musings, wondering if you would go get it. You reasoned that this was Toji’s home and he should be the one to answer it, but the rapid stream of water that echoed from the bathroom reminded you that he was currently occupied.

Another grating ring and you stifled a groan, standing up on shaky legs and picking up your pyjama top from last night. Toji’s old shirt was large enough to fall to your thighs, giving you at least a semblance of decency. You staggered to the door, unlatching it only to come face to face with a pair of brown eyes that widened at the sight of you.

The woman at the other end blinked once, twice, and then raked her gaze up and down your barely dressed form, a sudden flash of anger in her eyes.

“Who are you—?”

“You slut!” she screamed and pushed past you, wild dark hair mimicking the storm in her almost black gaze. “Where is he? Is he here?”

“Whoa—“ you stumbled back, surprised at her rage, “Who are you?”

Nothing you did could prepare you for her next words. “I’m his girlfriend.”

“W-what?” Through this sudden flash of realisation, you failed to notice the little boy clinging to her leg.

“He was supposed to be watching his son today.”

Her words didn’t seem to make sense. A son? But the longer you looked at him, you couldn’t deny it. There he was, standing wide-eyed, a full carbon copy of the man you slept with last night. Your stomach sank like you had swallowed a stone.

Bracing all her anger into her raised voice, she bellowed, “Toji!”

At this altercation, the dark-haired man came staggering out of the bathroom in nothing but his towel, flabbergasted at the sight of her.

“Shit—Mira.”

“You gonna explain this to me?” Jabbing her finger in your direction, you couldn’t help but feel as though she was disgustingly pointing out at a bug she had accidentally squashed under her old sneakers.

Toji flitted his gaze from your shocked expression to her fuming one and furrowed his brow. “There’s nothing to explain.”

“Who is she?!”

“Just some rando—ow—hey!” Mira had raised her hand to slap him, and you gasped, hand flying to your mouth at her audacity.

“You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro. You didn’t send me any money last month—”

Toji rubbed his cheek and growled at her. “I told’ya! I was running low—”

“So you’re resorting to fucking your customers, now?” Hurting worse than her blinding slap was her sudden accusation that all but threw your dignity under the bus.

Right. Of course. You were just his customer; last night didn't mean anything, definitely not to Toji.

Despite the fact that none of this was making any sense, you swallowed the bile you wanted to hurl at her. If this was his girlfriend, why was she speaking as though she was a spurned wife?

But, you decided you had intruded enough. Not only were they bickering in broad daylight with raised voices, but they were doing it in front of their son who could only glance back and forth at his mama and papa with wide, hurt-filled blue eyes.

Stepping back into the room, it seemed that they both did not notice you until you stood before them with your purse in hand. Fishing inside your wallet, you produced a substantial amount of money and passed it to Toji.

“Here—the money you need.”

As if he were stepping out from a nightmare, the burly man blinked and gingerly took the cash. “Y/N—wait.”

You paused, waiting for him to struggle with his words. Mira was nowhere to be seen, the world growing smaller to encompass your cold fury and this stammering man before you.

“I can explain. Mira is not my wife, she’s just my ex who’s taking care of Megumi. My real wife died a long time ago.”

You sighed, rubbing your aching temple. “Toji, I don’t—argh!”

Something cold and faintly smelling of cream collided with your cheek and you touched your face, pulling your hand back to find it covered with whipped cream. You were confronted by the sight of Mira—her chest heaving, face red and holding that incriminatory can in one hand, a mad gleam in her eye.

“You crazy bitch!” you yelled, swiping off a glob of cream that threatened to glop into your eye, fixing her with an incredulous stare.

“Get out!”

“Mira—” Toji was about to stop her when he got pied in the face with another spray, this one landing right in his mouth and making him choke on his next words.

“I was gonna!” The anger and indignancy rose in you and you have never felt this humiliated in your life; cream in your hair, cheeks burning and your pride smashed into a million pieces.

This is what you get for fucking random men, Y/N.

“Mira—stop. Y/N—”

You stepped back, raising your hand, about to smack the can out of her grasp when she jettisoned you with another stream of cold cream. Having had enough, you wrenched the can out of her hands and gave her a taste of her own medicine—literally and figuratively. She sputtered out a mouthful of that sweet cream and launched into a mad tirade, about to lunge at you before Toji ransomed her into his unyielding arms.

“Guh—bitch!”

“My hair!” you screeched. “You ruined my hair you fucking batshit insane bitch!”

Wiping the last glob of cream and shaking off the flecks onto the floor, you threw her a glare so unnerving that even Toji flinched.

In a voice colder than Arctic ice, you turned your anger to the tall, deceptive man who winced at the sight of more cream dripping down onto the large shirt he had borrowed you.

“Goodbye, Toji.”

Despite how badly you wanted to walk out with your dignity intact, it was undeniable that a half-naked woman covered with cream was about as dignified as a drunk person who shat their pants in a club.

You scuttled past the small, wide-eyed boy in nothing but his father’s shirt, whipped cream dripping down your chin and your burning cheeks.

“Papa, why is she not wearing any clothes?” That innocent question was the last straw and you quickly closed the door behind you, trying and failing to bite down on your groan of shame.

The last thing you heard as you hightailed it to your car was Mira’s condescending,

“I don’t get paid enough to deal with your disgusting ass, Toji.”

You came back to the present, rousing to consciousness on the hard examination bed to find three men staring at you in blatant concern.

One of them—the one who had seen you butt naked and covered with whipped cream (but not in a sexual way), was gazing down with barely concealed disbelief.

Toji was the one who first broke the silence. “Y/N?”

Sukuna was less delicate, getting to the bone of things. “Why didn't you tell us you were pregnant?”

But, you couldn't speak up, vocal cords ransomed by fear.

“So, you don’t know which one is the father?” Gojo. His piercing cerulean eyes were filled with an unnamed emotion.

In the end, it was Shoko who broke the tension by muttering, “I can take some samples from each of you and run it with Y/N’s amniotic fluid.”

Before you could speak, or even give a rousing reasoning as to why this was important not just for you, but for the baby, Sukuna scoffed and stepped back, his arms crossed.

“Count me out.”

You swallowed down on your mortification and turned your wide gaze to the tattooed man who looked like he would rather be suffering in the pits of hell than stay for one more second in this crowded, overstuffed room full of potential fathers.

“Sukuna—”

“Yeah, me, too. I already have a kid. I ain’t gonna pay for this one, too.”

It hurt that they were not willing to even take an hour out of their day to help you find out the truth; that they would discard you just like that—like you didn’t even mean much to them in the first place.

To your surprise, it was Gojo who was trying to convince the dark-haired man to stay. “Toji—”

Finding your voice, you glared at the two men who were the personification of a dog with its tail between its legs. One quick blow and you’re positive the both of them would’ve folded like they were a house of cards.

“This isn’t about us anymore, okay!”

You softened your tone, imploring them to understand. “At least just take the test. Please. We have to think about the baby—regardless of who it belongs to and until the test is ready, don’t you want to at least know the child?”

None of them spoke, too stunned by your outburst. Toji cleared his throat and shook his head, about to retort when Ieiri supplied softly: “It’s a girl.”

There was a collective sharp inhale from each man.

This time, it was Sukuna who exhaled. “A girl? Damn.” The rosy-haired man’s musing fell on deaf ears for the others, but not on yours. You heard him crystal clear. “I’ve always wanted a girl…”

“A baby girl, eh? Guess we have to show a good role model.” Satoru winked at you and this tiny show of acceptance warmed your heart that had long gone cold from the previously hostile interaction.

However, the atmosphere in the room came crashing down again when Toji scoffed. “You both can do that. I’m out.”

There was nothing you could say to convince him. This time, you let the tall, dark-haired man go; thinking it was useless to hinder someone who didn’t even want to be there in the first place.

You had thought that Sukuna would stay to at least provide his sample, but he sighed and turned towards the door, following Toji's heels.

“If you would please excuse me.”

It was just you and Gojo left in the OB GYN room.

You turned your dulled gaze to him, gently pressing your palm to your stomach where your baby girl was currently growing. With a jaded sigh, you asked him, “Don’t you want to leave, too?”

Proving that he was a bag full of surprises, the white-haired CEO snorted. “Nah. That baby girl may be mine and I wanna be there for her.” Twinkling cerulean eyes filled you with hope for the first time during this long day. “Besides, you said it yourself—this is not about us. It’s about her.”

His words melted your heart and you were grateful that even if no one would be there for you, at least Gojo would.

“Thank you… Satoru.”

— reblogs and feedback are very much loved <3

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk toji #jjk gojo #jjk sukuna #jjk nanami #series: who's your (baby) daddy #🦢 writes

1K notes · View notes

hwaslayer · 3 months ago

Text

wildfire (cs) | one.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 4.2k

—warnings: cussing/mature language, this is gonna start off kinda slow but i promise it'll get spicier lol, say hello to the rest of the professors in this fic ouweeee 🤪, some general bioengineering research terms, very vague mentions of mice research work, more of a glimpse into the yunho x san x iseul dynamic

—a/n: i'm also working on wooyoung's mini series so pls check it out! the next update will prob go up soon! ily <33

"Did you figure out your rotation for this quarter?" You walk alongside Jiung as you head to the Harvey Center, where Professor Choi's lab is located. Both you and Jiung had just finished up walking around campus to get your steps in, but to also check out the classrooms for all your upcoming classes this quarter and pick up books at the bookstore. Most of your classes were in familiar buildings, while two were entirely new.

"Yeah, I gotta meet with one more professor then I think I can send off my final decision." You nod. Jiung is holding his bag of books and yours, not wanting you to haul them around campus with how heavy they can get.

"That's good."

"Yeah, hope so." He repeats. "Are you meeting with the other professors this week just to see if you wanna rotate in any of them instead?"

"Mhm. All in one week. I guess it makes it easier on me since I don't have to wait on anyone. I can decide by end of the week."

"Are you seeing them in person?"

"Just Professor Choi and Professor Kim. Everyone else said Zoom." Jiung nods.

"Wow, Professor Kim in person?"

"I heard he really values in person meetings." You chuckle. "Which is nice? Maybe it's cause he's the department chair."

"That, too. He just seems like that kinda person, though. He's super active in all the events."

"Truth."

"Did you like rotating in Professor Bahng's lab last quarter?"

"I did. He was really cool. People in his lab are cool, too. I just.. I don't know? I didn't have a specific project I could focus on. Felt like I'd have trouble fitting myself in there and finding something to work off of. Everyone was great though, don't get me wrong. Just didn't click for me."

"Makes sense. You wanna be happy and feel like you can thrive somewhere."

"Yeah, exactly. Plus, after talking to Sunwoo and Belle, I think my interests lie more in Professor Choi's lab." You look down at the bags before looking at the Harvey Center ahead of you. "You know you don't have to wait for me, Jiung. You can go to the apartment if you want."

"Nah, I'll wait. I don't have shit to do anyway." You swing the front doors open and Jiung instantly plops down on a free chair near the lobby doors. "I'll be here."

"Shit, I just realized I think his office is downstairs in the basement. I don't know if I have access."

"Where's Sunwoo or Belle?" You quickly pull out your phone and try to dial Sunwoo or Belle to help you. Unlucky for you though, none of them answer.

"I guess they aren't here for the day yet. They didn't pick up." You sigh. "Why didn't I think about this early on?!"

"Relax. It's fine! Poke your head around, I'm sure someone is there to let you in." You pucker your lips in dismay, hoping it doesn't cause any issues and make you late for your meeting. You should've asked for assistance in the first place, but it kinda blew over your head when Professor Choi responded quicker than you expected.

"Welp. Let's hope I don't fuck this up already." Jiung pats your head.

"You won't." You wave to him before heading into the elevators, down to the basement level of the building. It's quiet, and you don't see many people walking around despite it being close to 10am. As you approach the door to the basement, you peek into the window to try and catch a glimpse of anyone passing by in the visible hallway. To your luck, the hallway is dead and there doesn't seem to be any moving heads in any of the nearby lab rooms. You let out a sigh and take out your phone, wondering if you should just email Professor Choi to ask for assistance.

No, maybe someone will pass by in the next 5 minutes.

Give it 5 more minutes, then panic and email.

You tippytoe and peek through the window once more, muttering small curses to yourself for being so unprepared with your meeting. Now, he's probably going to think you can't—

"Y/N?" You turn to see Professor Choi behind you with a soft smile on his face. He's dressed in a grey turtleneck, black slacks and boots— large silver square-shaped frames sitting on the bridge of his nose. He has his hands in his pockets, a heavy leather bag slung on his shoulder. You're surprised he even knows it's you; then again, who else would be peeking into the basement at this time?

"Oh my god, hi—sorry." You pause, slightly embarrassed having Professor Choi catch you looking through the door's window the way you were. "I just realized I didn't have basement access so I was trying to see if anyone was around before bothering you."

"All good. Perfect timing, hm?" He taps his badge against the reader and swings the door open. "After you." You give him a curt bow as a thank you, slowly walking into the basement hallway. San trails behind you, and he takes note of the way you're dressed. You're in some wide-leg white jeans, a cream colored vest and some black platform loafers. It's cute, really. He gives you another toothless smile when you stop in your tracks and wait for him to lead the way. Hopefully, he didn't catch your eyes when you quickly skimmed his outfit again— he was tall and he was well-built, it was very obvious with that turtleneck he had on. He smells of a woody cologne, mixed with notes of jasmine and patchouli. It's not overbearing, but it definitely makes its presence known next to you. "How's your day been?" He asks and you just nod.

"It's been alright. I just went to pick up my books at the book store, explored around campus to make sure I knew where my classes were at. There's a few buildings I haven't had class in."

"That's good. Getting prepared for the quarter well I see."

"Trying to, at least." He chuckles as he does an abrupt turn to the right and swings a door open. You follow him into another office space, where desks are lined up amongst each other. You find a few people sitting around, typing away on their desktops. It's too bad Sunwoo or Belle wasn't around. You'd probably feel a bit less nervous seeing their faces before the meeting.

"What's up, Professor Choi!" One of his lab members calls out. San does a quick nod and throws up a wave just as he unlocks his office door and steps inside.

"Come in." He holds the door open for you once again. "Sorry it's a bit messy. I'm all over the place with these progress reports and finalizing class details."

"No worries! Honestly doesn't look messy to me." You look around seeing a stack of papers on his desk. Otherwise, everything is neat. He's got all his awards framed up and lined along the back wall. Books on shelves near his desk. A couch off to the side wall with two small pillows. A small coffee table. A mini fridge. Two chairs for guests at his desk. It's roomy, but not super roomy.

It smells like his cologne.

"Have a seat." He pulls out one of the two chairs directly in front of his desk. You sit and place your bag down on the ground, fixing yourself as Professor Choi sets his bag down and sits at his computer chair. "Gotta apologize again, it's my first meeting of the day so I don't have everything out and ready."

"No need to apologize, I get it." You chuckle and he smiles.

"Your CV was really impressive." He says as he's pulling up said CV. He's looked at it enough times to have a photographic memory of it, which is the first for him. Right away, he can tell you'd work well in his lab. You have a good head on your shoulders, smart. Can contribute a lot. He just knows sometimes.

"Thank you." You smile and it makes San's smile grow bigger.

"So, why do you wanna explore those areas? Tell me a little bit more about your experience with everything. Computational analysis, mice, 2P and opto-stim-neural circuit work. All that good stuff." He sits back a bit, his full attention now on you instead of your CV on the screen. You feel your hands get a 'lil clammy the more his eyes focus on you, your lips feeling a 'lil more dry than usual. Shit, he is attractive.

"Sure!" You quickly shake off the nerves and begin to tell him about your experience and interest in bioengineering. It all started when the field was briefly introduced to you in high school, and your curiosity grew to enormous levels when you found a few schools that had the specific undergrad program available. You've talked to a few seniors about their experiences, like Sunwoo, before solidifying your decision to move forward with the major. You tell him how you took a break after graduation to get some more hands-on experiences through two internships and a full-time job, working on in-vitro mice work, computational analysis and building and maintaining 2P microscopes. Then, you realized you really wanted to get back on track and pursue your graduate studies. You tell him about your rotation in Professor Bahng's lab last quarter and how you enjoyed it, but you were having trouble figuring out how you'd fit in the lab. When you talked to Sunwoo a little more about what he's been up to in Professor Choi's lab, your interest in opto-stim peeked, having been Professor Choi's niche.

It's a nice, easy conversation. You find that Professor Choi isn't as intimidating as you thought. He chimes in with questions every now and then, making it a smooth two-way convo.

"Ah, Professor Bahng? That's my guy right there. Learned lots from him." You chuckle.

"He's brilliant."

"He is, he really, really is." He nods. "But I totally get it, it's good to experience things in order for you to understand what you really want or how to spend your time wisely."

"Exactly." You tilt your head and look at him. "That's pretty much it for me, though. Your work is great. I'm really interested in learning more and diving deep into opto-stim. I know the basics, but haven't gotten a chance to work with it. Sunwoo's project seems to encompass a lot of that, along with the other aspects I've worked with."

"That's right. His project has been on a roll, same thing with Belle's. I can see you working between the both of them, most of your time with Sunwoo, though. I think you'll fit the best with his, and I can see a lot of potential avenues coming out of it. He's been asking for some help, too." He chuckles. "Why don't you talk to Sunwoo and Belle a little more? Then all four of us can meet in the next couple of days to finalize project ideas and details. Should be good to start the rotation afterwards if it all goes smoothly." Your eyes light up.

"Really? I-I mean, yes. I'll do that."

"Mhm. Let me know when you're ready? Just send me an another email."

"Thank you, Professor Choi." He smiles at you.

"You're very welcome. Do you have any other questions?" You look at him, head tilting out of curiosity.

"Um, not for the project. It's something more personal, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Go for it." He leans back again and rests his clasped hands on his lap.

"Why did you pursue this field?" San is having to pause because out of all the times he's met with students, people [besides formal interviews], no one has asked him that question. No one has asked him directly— people like to assume they know him because his name is out there, but not once has anyone asked about his experience.

"Hm." He hums. "It's probably gonna sound a little cliché and everything, so don't judge me." You giggle and shake your head. "It just felt like my calling? Kinda like you." When he smiles, you find yourself captivated by his dimples. They make everything about his smile so captivating and so, so charming. "I think you might know this already, but my dad was a biology professor. He always told me to challenge myself and think outside the box, and I think the early exposure to his career definitely shaped my path. He'd share his knowledge with me and try to ask me tricky questions. Make me think about what's around me, how things can be improved. Better understood. Then, I learned about bioengineering and tried to better understand it. Open new avenues for things that haven't been studied well yet. Just took lots of risks and tried things out. Failed lots of times before getting the hang of things."

"That's amazing. Your parents must be really proud."

"I hope so." He laughs. "Thanks for asking."

"Oh, no. Thank you. I wasn't sure if I overstepped with that question."

"What? No way. You're actually the first to ask and I appreciate that."

"Oh?" Is all you manage to get out, confused as to why he would say that. Has no tried to ask about him or get to know him a little better? Maybe it was just you, but you definitely thought building good, personal connections would bring more advantages than not— first and foremost, bringing comfort and ease, especially to any new environment. Who would wanna work in an awkward, tense setting?

"I mean it." San laughs. "I appreciate it. It's nice when people take a second to view me as a human and not a robot who is constantly churning work."

"Course." The both of you maintain eye contact for a bit and it makes you feel so, so nervous that he's just looking at you. And he kinda is just looking at you. Observing you. He finds himself admiring your look once more; the hair, your smile, your nails. Cute. He knows he shouldn't, but truthfully, he can't really help himself when a beautiful woman is in front of him in general. He is a man, and a man who enjoys eye candy. "Anyway, I know you're probably booked and busy today, so let me get going."

"You're okay. I don't have anything until the next 30 mins, don't feel the need to rush."

"No, it's okay. I should totally let you be." You stand and smile at him as you sling the strap on your shoulder and tuck your bag close. "Thank you again, Professor Choi. I'm excited for what's to come."

"Me too. It'll be great, I know it." He stands, hands in his pockets as he follows you towards the door.

"Thanks." You turn to look at him, and he's not too far from you. "See you soon.. over Zoom?" You assume that since the basics and introductions are out of the way, it'll probably be more convenient for Professor Choi to do a Zoom meeting. Lo and behold, he surprises you with a:

"In person would be nice." He smirks a bit. He does enjoy his in person meetings; they're more productive that way.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna waste your time."

"Never." He shrugs a bit. "I mean it. It's always better to talk in person, anyway."

"I agree." You smile at him once more, hand on his door handle. "See you soon."

"Have a good one, Y/N. Feel free to email me if anything comes up."

"Appreciate it." You give him one last look before you swing the door open and find Sunwoo just about to settle down at his desk.

"Y/N! Professor Choi! Assuming it went well and I'll get the help I've been begging for?" San laughs.

"Yeah. I asked Y/N to talk to you and Belle about potential projects and to email me once she's ready so we can all meet and finalize details."

"Good with me."

"Good with me, too." San gives you both a small, toothless smile before walking back into his office. "So, how'd it really go?"

"Good." You approach Sunwoo's desk. "He's not as intimidating as I thought. Kinda. Really laid back, though."

"Yeah, he's super chill and easy going. Super supportive. You'll enjoy it here." He waves his phone. "Sorry I missed your call earlier."

"I forgot I didn't have access into the basement."

"How'd you get in?"

"Professor Choi saw me peeking through the basement door window." Sunwoo snorts.

"Amazing first impression." You playfully pinch his bicep.

"Hate you." You pout. "I'm nervous."

"For what, dude?" He laughs. "I promise you, it's not that bad at all. As long as you put in the work and do what you need to do, everything will play out fine."

"What if I don't get into the lab post-rotation?"

"Don't say that." Sunwoo smiles. "You'll be good. Promise. You're smart and hardworking."

"We'll see. Maybe you'll realize how much of a pain in the ass I am when we work together."

"True." You glare at him and he laughs. "Kidding. Ready for classes to start soon?"

"No."

"That's the spirit." You chuckle. "Anyway, let me know when you're free this week. We can walk around the lab while we talk about projects. Belle is usually here around the same time I am so I'm sure we can grab her whenever." You nod. At this point, Chris and Yeosang walk into the room, the two in good spirits and engaging in lively conversation right before knocking on San's door.

"Okay. I'll text you later, then. I gotta get back to Jiung, I left him upstairs."

"I saw." He chuckles and salutes just as he diverts his attention to the data on his desktop computer.

"Hi Professor Bahng, Professor Kang." You smile at them in passing and they nod in response.

"Hey Y/N! Nice to see you around these parts." Professor Bahng says with that usual happy tone of his. Professor Kang is a little more shy, but never fails to acknowledge you with a smile or soft 'hello.' Chris presses his ear to the door before laughing and swinging the door open, greeting San as casually as they can before the door shuts.

"Whattup!" Chris plops onto San's couch while Yeosang takes the other end.

"Nothing much. Just finished my meeting with the rotation student. You know her, actually."

"Oh, Y/N? Yeah! She's crazy smart. Think she'll do some good work in your lab." San nods.

"So, what's the plan you wanted to talk about?"

"I need to start planning the symposium for one of the grants. It needs to happen within the next month. Was hoping you can help us, give us a few tips? Maybe do a talk?"

"Where are you planning to do it?"

"Right next door at the Acacia Center, was hoping one of the huge conference rooms would be open."

"Probably the best place to do it because they can cater for the event, too."

"Who else can we recruit to do a talk, though?" Yeosang sits back and lets out a sigh. "Jongho?"

"Try seeing if Namjoon is free, that'll definitely draw some people." They all laugh in unison knowing Namjoon's power. "And make sure you do the whole email blast with flyers everywhere. Let people pass it along."

"Yeah, okay. But, also, don't hate me." Christopher looks at San with an awkward smile. San knows though, he knows very well what he's hinting at.

"We've already talked about this. I don't care."

"I know, but still. You're one of my good friends and I'd hate to put you in an uncomfortable position."

"Well, Yunho is always gonna be there and I don't expect things to change. We're always gonna have to work together despite what happened."

"I don't know how you do it, I'm sorry." Yeosang says, slightly shaking his head as he sinks into the couch a little more.

"I agree. You're strong, man."

"I have no choice." San laughs. "Besides, I stopped letting that consume me a long time ago. It's none of my concern anymore. As long as I can get my shit done without issues and minimal contact, I couldn't care less."

"That's real, honestly." Chris lets out a breath. "Well, I'm gonna ask him to do a talk."

"Go for it. Will probably be good for the grant, too." San sighs. He meant it when he said he stopped letting the entire thing consume him a long time ago. And he does have to interact with Yunho whether he likes it or not; it's not like he's gonna give everything up just because he can't stand some petty drama from the past. Besides, he promised Namjoon he was okay. He promised he wouldn't cause issues even though Namjoon didn't expect any. But, it did hurt. He's not gonna lie— there are days when he still questions everything and he wonders why things unfolded the way it did.

He just knows better now, and can actually brush it off without it affecting his mood, his surroundings.

"I gotta keep going through my list of people."

"I can ask around, too." San says. "Do you want me to see if the big conference room is free?"

"Yeah, please?" Chris laughs. "They give you everything."

"No, they don't." San rolls his eyes with a chuckle.

"Damn near." Yeosang adds.

"Any of your lab members wanna do a poster presentation?"

"Uh." San shuts his eyes in thought for a second. "Let me ask, I think Yoon might have some good data to present."

"Okay, let me know." San nods. "You guys free for lunch later?"

"12:30, maybe?" Yeosang stands and looks at his watch. "I gotta get to my next round of meetings 'till then."

"Same. Text me where to meet?" Chris stands and nods before throwing up the peace sign.

"Will do. Thanks for the tips and for looking into the room."

"I'll let you know what they say." Both Christopher and Yeosang nod just as they walk out of his office and leave him to his peace. He makes a note to send an email after his next meeting about the room and catering, knowing how hard it can be to reserve a room within a month's time frame at this campus. He'll do what he can to help Chris, though— that's one of his good friends and somebody who didn't turn their back on him after everything that's happened. Even Yeosang, Mingi, Jongho. Namjoon. Of course, everyone works great together. Everyone is civil when they need to be. But San knows if he ever needed them, they'd be there for him in a heartbeat.

They'd be the people he could turn to without question.

When it comes time for lunch, San is barely getting out of his meeting at 12:30pm. He finds Chris, Yeosang and Mingi at the café right across the way from the Harvey Center, falling in line with them just as it grows during the lunch hour rush. They grab their food and plop down at a shaded table off to the side, greeting a few familiar faces and passing students.

"What's up?" Yunho passes, nodding at the table and giving Chris' shoulder a quick massage. Iseul follows behind, not paying the group any mind. Yeosang, Mingi and Chris share their own 'hello's,' while Yunho and San continue to play the silent treatment with each other. Yes, San will work with Yunho if he needs to. He'll be civil, he'll act like nothing ever happened. He'll act like their relationship wasn't severed after everything that went down. But, if he's out here minding his business, eating lunch with friends— he'd rather not bump into Yunho and Iseul and make any small talk. Simply just cause. He's done a lot of work to get past that and he doesn't want anything to do it with anymore.

"Anyway." Mingi says, making Chris snort.

"Anyway. Ya'll trying to hit the gym sometime tomorrow?"

"I'm down." San says, scrolling through his phone. He'll scratch some time out of his evening to hit the gym since it's been a few days since his last gym session. At least, he plans to finalize his class schedule before end of the day today— he'll have a little more breathing room once he submits that to the department.

"No way, you're not serious!" Your voice echoes as you exit the café, laughing along with Jiung and Felix over Felix's random encounter that he was giving you details about. San diverts his attention to your group, recognizing the outfit, the voice. He sips on his drink and continues to watch the smile on your face build, the animated hand gestures you use, the way you so attentively listen to every word your friends are telling you. Oddly enough, he finds that seeing you is a good distraction. He feels a little more relaxed post-5 second Yunho and Iseul encounter, a small subtle smile creeping up on his lips when he sees you throw your head back in laughter. It's soothing.

That's probably the moment he realizes you are enticing.

And to be honest, he's not understanding why he feels a certain pull to you; it's so uncommon and so, so foreign, to him. He doesn't even think he felt this way when he first started dating Iseul. Don't get him wrong— he did love her, he did feel the usual giddiness, the honeymoon phase, all of the above. Everything progressed as naturally as it could with that time.

But with you, he's finding a certain itch. He's not sure how to relieve himself, especially when he knows he shouldn't. He can't.

It'll be trouble having you around, he's very aware of that. It'll be a test for him, the boundaries he creates to make sure you both don't cross that line.

He can't.

Still doesn't mean he won't.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom

262 notes · View notes