#Elder Care Planning near me

[bellavidahomecare]

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[vrystalius]

Hi, again :"D I know I bother you a lot but could I send one more ask... You recently did "Hashira reacting to your affection" and I absolutely loved it and was curious, could you do a "Muzan/UpperMoons reacting to your affection"? Okay, I'll stop bugging you now. (One more thing, please continue writing. I love your posts and look forward to every single one :D)

Upper moons + Muzan’s reaction to your affections

How will your demon s/o reaction to your affections?

Pairing: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x fem!reader

Typs of affection include: Kisses, hugs and cuddles, affectionate nibbling/biting, compliments

(Mentioning of Douma wanting to crawl into your body for warmth)

Muzan Kibutsuji

Kisses: 8/10

Muzan doesn’t like initiating the kiss. He fears it may make him look desperate and needy for your affection. He certainly does not need your kisses! He’s the demon king after all. But your lips are just addicting to him. The taste, the warmth, the moisture, the smell even. Muzan just can’t help but be pouty and pissy when you don’t kiss him for an extensive amount of time, but will refuse to come to you first.

Kisses onto his lips are his most preferred ones since they take time and are the most romantic. When you lean in, Muzan would pull you closer with a small, sly smirk, while holding you by your chin. He would hum approvingly before letting you pull away.

Cheek kisses are the most convenient to him, but he doesn’t always react to your kiss. He might be busy with his research or experimenting, meaning Muzan isn’t really available for a regular kiss. That’s the only time he’ll accept a cheek kiss instead of a regular kiss.

Muzan dislikes forehead kisses, both giving and receiving. In his mind, those are reserved for children and elders.

Sneaking up on this man is impossible, meaning you cannot surprise him with neck kisses. He does not like receiving them. Muzan will allow you a single kiss on his neck before he’ll scowl and glare at you, intimidating you into stopping your antics this instant. But on the other end, he absolutely loves burying his face in your neck and grazing his teeth against your skin, placing a kiss here and there. He loves to gently bite down onto your skin, just until it draws blood, and then lick it away. Again, you’re an uttermost delicacy.

“Stop hiding, I know you’re there. Simply come up to me and give me a proper kiss. No need for those theatrics.”

Hugs and cuddles: 7/10

Muzan is giving up his precious time, the time he could be spending somewhere more important like planning Ubuyashiki’s downfall, or holding an Upper Moon meeting, to hold you in bed while you sleep. Feeling your body rest against his makes him feel peaceful, as if his busy mind(s) can finally relax and slip into a meditative state. The closest he can get to sleep.

He’d run his fingers through your hair and wonder to himself: how did he manage to grow so soft for you? He feels utterly smitten and pathetic.

Muzan is not very fond of hugs though. He feels a little awkward for some reason. He associates hugs with his other human wives, the ones he does not care for and the ones he uses for his own benefit. They are nowhere near you. Hugs are a tool to come closer to those women, so Muzan doesn’t want to look at you as a tool for his own needs. You are his lover, his partner.

When you initiate the hug, he doesn’t mind as much. Muzan would pat your back and then quickly let go again. Although, he likes hugging you in bed, holding you for hours on end.

“The Upper Moons will wait. I wish to hold you for longer, you still seem tired.”

Affectionate nibbling/biting: 5/10

Muzan will tolerate your biting and nibbling at best, but will command you to stop at worst. You could break your delicate teeth by his thick skin if you’re not careful. He’ll sometimes to bury his face into your neck and nibble against your skin, as if teasing himself with your alluring taste. If Muzan bites down too hard, he could make you bleed or even kill you. Yet, the thought of tasting your blood on his tongue is very entertaining to him. But he will restrain himself. Muzan does not want to harm you in any way, after all.

“I will leave my mark on your collarbone. Do not cover it up.”

Compliments: 7/10

Words are meaningless to him, yet Muzan values your opinion and thoughts the most. He prides himself by your praises and compliments. Muzan smirks when you compliment his appearance or fashion sense. Those are some things he values the most about himself and he is glad that you acknowledged it. He might thank you with a silent nod or a smirk.

He also likes watching your reactions to his praises, how your face flushes a little and your lips tilt upwards slightly. Muzan knows how to tell a person all the things they want to hear in order to manipulate them, but he just compliments you in order to fluster you and maybe earn a kiss from you.

“Thank you, my sunlight. Your beauty never fails to enchant me. It’s almost dangerous, don’t you think?”

Kokushibo

Kisses: 7/10

Everytime Kokushibo kisses you, he stops and just states at you for a moment to take in the feeling that is rising in his stomach. Kissing you strangely feels nostalgic of something he cannot quite put his finger on. Due to him wanting to become the strongest swordsman, he denies himself affection subconsciously, so he rarely initiates kissing. That doesn’t mean that Kokushibo doesn’t want affection or doesn’t like it, he just believes he doesn’t deserve it. Therefore, you have to show him that he does deserve your kisses.

Regular kisses feel very intimate to him and are by far Kokushibo’s favourite. He likes it when you take him by the chin and press your lips against his. His face would instantly relax and all six of his eyes would close for just a moment, savouring your taste and warmth.

Cheek kisses are a little more complicated given that he doesn’t really have any cheeks. So either you’d have to place a kiss on the eyelid of his closed lower eyes, or kiss him on his jaw. Kissing him on his eye will earn you a weird look from his lower two eyes. Kissing his jaw will make Kokushibo smirk ever so slightly.

Forehead kisses are just as complicated as cheek kisses, since his forehead is occupied by his upper eyes. Kissing his eyelids again will resolve in Kokushibo staring at you in confusion and offer you a regular kiss instead.

He will not react when you kiss his neck. The only reaction you will get is the tensing of his neck muscles and a quiet glare. In the meantime, Kokushibo prides himself in making you squirm and gasp, meaning he will learn everything about your body just to tease specific reactions out, and that includes the sensitivity of your neck. He’d silently bury his face into your neck after a particularly long training session or a stressful meeting, and just savour the taste of your skin.

“Affection is a distraction, but I will tolerate it. I do not seem to mind yours.”

Hugs and cuddles: 9/10

If Kokushibo is giving up his time to cuddle with you, this demon is utterly smitten for you. He will hold you close near his body, his hand running up and down your delicate body and smooth skin. His lower and upper eyes are closed, demonstrating how much he truly trusts you by lowering his guard severely. Kokushibo sometimes rests his head on your chest and stomach and will silently ask you to run your fingers through his thick, long hair. He doesn’t like to admit it, but Kokushibo purrs. His chest will rumble and vibrate against you when he’s especially content with your cuddling.

Kokushibo cherishes your hugs greatly. Again, he will not ask for them or initiate them and will instead wait until you embrace him first. Once you do, he will not let go until he savoured your presence for long enough. He is too proud to admit that he craves your presence though.

“I do not need comfort. I am beyond such things… Let go? I will not.”

Affectionate biting/nibbling: 4/10

Kokushibo will not react when you bite down onto his lip, hand or wherever else. He will not entertain your antics either and won’t offer you any body parts (he did think about offering you his fleshy katana as some sort of chewing toy).

On the other side, Kokushibo sometimes entertains the thought of biting down onto your skin. He is a demon after all, although he has enough self restrain to not do it. Instead, he’ll leave hickeys on your neck and collarbone.

“Enough. Do not test me. Do you not realise the risk of provoking me?”

Compliments: 10/10

Kokushibo prides himself by listening to your praise and values them by far the most. He values your compliments about his strength and physique in particular, those are the ones that remind him how far he has gone and how strong he truly is. He will dismiss your words but is cherishing them deep down. If he notices that your praises are wavering and lessening, Kokushibo will start feeling jealousy. Why are you not admiring anymore? Is his power faltering? Is there someone else you admire more than him? He should’ve known better than to fall for your alluring words.

But once you offer another praise for him, his insecure thoughts quieten down again for a while.

“Do not waste your breath on flattery… Although I will continue to allow it.”

Douma

Kisses: 9/10

Your kiss is one of the most favourite things in the whole world to him (besides eating humans). Your kisses are like energy to him, and Douma’ll become sluggish and pouty when you don’t give him his daily required amount of smooches. He loves it when you cup his cheeks with both of your hands and pull him onto your lips. Douma will say “Mwah” and do over-exaggerated kissing noises, kissing your lips and the area around them over and over. Also, he doesn’t care if other people are present and watching. They are below him anyway, so why should they care? So what if Douma loves his woman very much? If he wants to, he’d make out with you all day!!

Regular kisses taste well, so he prefers them! Douma will never get tired of the taste of your lips and will try to turn the innocent kiss into a make-out session get more of you.

Cheek kisses feel innocent and charming. They make him grin and want to pull you back to him for more. Also, those are more acceptable to do around the followers. When you kiss Douma normally and pull him a little closer, some will side-eye you and maybe whisper amongst themselves. Especially the elders, they’re the most judgemental for some reason. But they don’t seem to mind the cheek kisses.

Forehead kisses feel oddly motherly for Douma, therefore he doesn’t really like them. He likes being pampered and coddled, but not… in that way. When you kiss him like that, his eyes look empty for just a split second while his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. But once you look at him, his expression looks cheerful again.

Once you start kissing his neck though, it’s game on for him. Douma would trap you either against a wall or in his arm and begin his attack on your poor neck: kisses, bites, hickeys, everything. He is a sadist at heart and gets enjoyment out of your squeals and attempts to escape his sweet assault.

“Do not pay attention to them, I want my darling to appreciate me as much as I appreciate her! Go on now, you haven’t finished loving me properly.”

Hugs and cuddles: 10/10

Douma loves your cuddles, especially when YOU initiate them! It makes him incredibly happy when you come to him and sit down onto his lap and cuddle him. He won’t be able to stop grinning and will bury his face in either your cleavage or find his place between your legs when you not sit ok his lap. Douma absolutely loves skin-to-skin contact, even though you might squirm away at first because of his cold skin suddenly touching you. He will blow raspberries into your cleavage and into your neck, and then nibble around until either a hickey develops or you start bleeding. Douma is incredibly greedy when it comes to your cuddles. He sometimes doesn’t even want you to touch any other cultist, not even offering them a hand. Your skin contact is only reserved for him.

Hugs are similar. Douma adores getting your hugs. They feel so warm and welcoming, he wished he could just melt right against you. Maybe even into you. Oh to crawl under your skin and just bask in the warmth of your organs, feeling them squirm around. You probably smell absolutely divine.

That fantasy, to open your stomach up and huddle up inside you, is how he imagines Eternal Paradise. Your warmth surrounding him everywhere, as you’re hugging and holding him from all sides. Sadly, you’re a human, and he wants to keep you around until you grow old and perish. Maybe you want to become a demon so you could live longer? Oh how fun that would be! If you want, he’d even let you crawl inside of him!

“Oh you’re just the sweetest, aren’t you? If you hold me like this, I might just eat you up!… What? No, I was kidding! Why are you looking at me like that?”

Affectionate nibbling/biting: 8/10

Douma would do it himself. Sometimes, he would just take your hand and nibble on your finger, then move on with his day. If you do it, he’ll do it back to you. Everytime you bite him or nibble onto his skin, Douma watches you with big eyes, as if analysing and learning from you. He might pout if you don’t bite down hard enough. Douma can barely even feel you through his thick skin! He’d nuzzle into your neck while you’re biting him. He might even pull on your skin a little.

“You taste diviiiiiine!~ Would you let me bite just a little harder? Your blood goes perfectly with the taste of your skin!”

Compliments: 5/10

Douma has been praised and drowned in compliments all his life. He values your words over the ones of his followers any day and will take your praises to heartHe will smile at your words and thank you, but his cheery smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Aren’t you the sweetest, dear lotus~”

Akaza

Kisses: 7/10

He can’t quite handle kisses yet. They make Akaza stiffen up and blush brightly every time you surprise him with them. He’s not used to your love and affection yet, so will try to copy your gestures and kiss you as well. Akaza tries to give you as much affection as you give to him, but sometimes forgets to do it. Your kiss reminds him to give you your deserved affection.

Regular kisses make him jerk a little when you do them randomly. But he’ll relax fairly quickly and melt against your lips. His hands would subconsciously wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him. Akaza craves your kiss and he’s not being subtle about it.

Cheek kisses make his face flush in a bright red. He might even hide his face from you and look mad at you. Don’t worry, he’s just mad at himself for being smitten for you so easily.

Forehead kisses make him feel loved. Akaza likes how you cup his cheeks and pull him downwards a little, kissing his forehead. He’ll close his eyes and savour the feeling of your lips against his cool skin.

One time, you nuzzled into Akaza’s neck and started placing gentle kisses all around. He flinched so heard he turned around and almost punched a hold through your body. You learned to not scare him like that again. How did he not sense you anyway? Does he feel this safe in your presence?

“Don’t scare me like that again.”

Hugs and cuddles: 9/10

Akaza is not good with words or gestures, so he feels like he’s expressing his love to you while cuddling. He feels incredibly honoured when you come to him first. You want to cuddle with him? Yes, a thousand times yes. C’mere.

Akaza also loves it when you cuddle him while laying on top of him and all his muscles. While he’s relaxed they are squishy and are perfectly good pillows to relax onto. Especially his pecks. But also, Akaza loves to lay on top of you. He tries not to be too heavy on you, but he just adores to savour your warmth and body beneath him. Just like the kisses, he craves your touch and cuddles desperately.

When you hug him, he stiffens up. Where should he put his hands? Is it okay to wrap them around your waist? Or should he just hover his hand over your body? So, Akaza just awkwardly stands there, with his hands hovering over your body. But once he melts into your touch, he’d close his eyes and hold you for a very long while. Akaza is incredibly touch starved. He needs to be held. Desperately.

“Can we lay down for a sec? Just finished my training anyway and… I kinda missed you.”

Affectionate biting/nibbling: 4/10

Akaza will think that you’re challenging him. He will try to bite you back, but gently. Like a confused puppy. He’d then glance at your face, trying to see if he did what you wanted.

“Are you hungry or something…?”

Compliments: 6/10

Akaza would react very awkwardly at first. He’s very happy when you praise his strength and power. It makes him feel a little prideful and he might answer with a cocky grin or a small nod.

Complimenting something personal about him, for example his loyalty, protectiveness or smile makes him feel incredible awkward. Akaza would blush and try to hide how flustered he gets. He’ll maybe even get angry at how easily he starts to blush and accidentally deflect his anger at you.

“You don’t need to say things like that… but thank you anyway…”

💠

Hope you enjoyed this @pickmans-muse <3

I was planning on writing this anyway, but you requesting this made me extremely happy!! Thank you for requesting!! I may have neglected Akaza a little. I really love him though! I just got really tired and wanted to finish this! That’s also why I left Gyutaro out, I probably will make an extra part for him. Also, guess who my favourite demon is if it’s not obvious enough :P

I seriously love reading all your comments and reblogs, you’re all so so sweet <33

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[trivia-yandere]

payment plan

your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to his brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity. @momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @minshookie29

valentine’s day masterlist | part 2

word count: 5.509

warning: non-con/coercion, cmnf, smut, dub-con, degradation/humiliation, dominant jin, submissive reader, collaring, affair, unsolicited touching, impregnation kink, thigh riding, oral sex/deep throat, dirty talk, kissing, creampie,

“Your collar…” Jin murmurs, his eyes staring at the pink collar he has given you. It has diamonds wrapped around and in the middle, is a gold shaped heart. “...is so cute.”

“Thank you, sir.” you murmur, your thighs clenching together nervously underneath Jin’s intense gaze.

“Isn’t it sad that your husband is away?” Jin scoffs, a wicked smirk forming onto his lips - rosy and plump.

Kim Seokjin, tall with a slender build. Dark hair and even darker eyes. He’s beautiful - utterly gorgeous. His beauty is often compared to that of a God; ethereal. He carried himself as such, strutting into any room and completely holding the attention from everyone occupying it.

Kim Seokjin, wealthy - one of the richest men in the nation. He owned several businesses that thrived; all of which funded his life. He had enough generational wealth that his great-great grandchildren wouldn’t have to work - and he’d often boast about that fact. Kim Industries were one of the most well known and luxurious industries to be a part of - employees were even looked at as better off just for being apart of the business. 

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law. The very man who stood besides your husband, his elder brother, while you and he were wed. He gave a speech about the love you and your husband had was that of true love and raised his glass to give you a celebratory toast - “to my sister-in-law, Y/N. Welcome to the family.” 

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law, and the same man you are having an affair with. 

“It is sad, sir.”

Jin tilts his head a bit. “Then why don’t you look it?” he questions. “Maybe you’re happy to be with me instead of your good for nothing husband?”

You swallow at Jin’s harsh words, appearing physically ill at them. Jin doesn’t care, however, and openly berates his brother around you at any given moment.

It was 5 months prior when your husband came to you and confessed that he was completely broke - that you and he had not a dollar to your names. It came as a shock. No, your husband was not as wealthy as Jin - but he was nowhere near broke. Their father had helped start up a business before allowing them out in the world. While Jin branched out and became a big name in multiple industries, your husband was smaller. However, the Kim name had benefits. 

“How are we broke?” you asked with wide eyes, not believing your ears. “We have a few  hundred thousands saved up for a rainy day.”

Your husband had confided in you that the money was gone - everything that was saved has since been wiped away. 

The home you and he bought had to be sold, along with the cars. You were homeless, and the only way your husband was willing to turn was his younger brother.

Seokjin had welcomed you two with open arms and gave his brother a job at one of the many businesses he owned - it was an ego killer. Your husband was the older brother, but yet, the younger one was more successful and thriving. You and your husband moved into Seokjin’s home (even if he did have enough money to lend you a vacation home) and allowed you to borrow his cars whenever needed.

The hours your husband worked were always long, working from sun up to sun down. He came home exhausted and didn’t want to do anything but rest - and you understood. You contemplated asking Jin if there were any available openings in his business for you to work, but your husband shot you down. “I’m the man, Y/N. I have to be the one providing for you.”

As much as you appreciated the efforts your husband set in place, you wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth - that you trusting him got you nowhere. You were homeless, staying in a (large mansion, yes) with his brother, becoming a complete burden on him. 

Your feelings were never stated aloud, but it showed in your actions. You loved your husband to death truly, but you didn’t want to be around him. You soon got your own room in the mansion and to keep yourself busy, decided to take on chores. You cleaned from top to bottom and cooked constantly. As much as you were annoyed with your husband, you always assured he had three meals a day that you cooked personally.

“I am happy to be with you.” you murmur to Jin, understanding that it’s what he wants to hear. Despite being highly successful and wealthy, hearing that he was better than his elder brother brought satisfaction over Kim Seokjin.

“I know you are.” Jin brings a hand up to touch your cheek softly. “Isn’t this why you allow me to do whatever I want to you? Because my good for nothing brother puts his lovely wife…” Jin trails his hand down to your collared neck. “...in the hands of another man.”

You swallow the lump in your throat nervously. 

“Nothing in this world is free, Y/N-ah.” you recall Jin speaking those very words to you for the first time. You had just gotten out of the shower, strolling into your bedroom in nothing but a robe to find the man on your bed. He sits poshly, waiting for you. “I give my brother a job, a place to stay and in return…” Jin trailed off, having since pushed himself from your bed to come to you and without a warning, hands dipped between your robe.

Jin never forgot to remind you that you lived in his home - that you husband (though his  brother) worked right under him and if he truly desired, could fire him at any given moment just because. 

Maybe that’s why you never told Jin no - that you allowed him to touch you. In the beginning, it was only that; touching. He would come up behind you while you washed the dishes and press himself firmly against you, his hands gripping your waist before they rub up your sides - but then he’d leave you be. 

But of course, with you never stopping him - it escalated. Jin was no longer satisfied with just touching you because what was the fun in that? Your husband's work load became longer until he had no days off - and he never went against it. That only meant that you were alone with Jin more often. 

“You keep clenching your legs together.” Jin notes. “Are you rubbing them together because you want some type of friction?” he then shakes his head with a scoff. “Just like a whore would.”

Jin turns away from you and ventures into the bedroom - his bedroom. You swallow, now remembering that you and he were just in the hallway of the large mansion. “Come.”

And you do, following him into his bedroom. You never been inside his room before - he always came to yours. But it’s large and as luxurious as the rest of his home. His bed is large - possibly a California king - and it sits right in the middle of the room and behind it is a large window that takes up nearly the whole wall. It’s snowing, the trees outside are covered in beautiful white snow and the amount of it covers the ground completely. You are in awe at the view that Seokin has just outside his window that has such beautiful natural light that there wasn’t any need for one inside the room to be on.

Your eyes scan over the rest of the room and it’s then you notice just how it’s covered in mirrors - even on the ceiling. You wonder if this is a room Seokjin sleeps in, or just takes whatever flings he has.  

“Come.” Jin repeats, venturing towards the left of his room to a cushioned seat - it’s gray and matches his bed perfectly. He takes a seat, eyebrows lifting for you to come to him. “I’m glad you wore the lingerie I bought for you. Pink is so cute on your skin.”

Jin’s complement causes your body to flush with heat. You could never grow accustomed to it - maybe it’s the way he speaks. He’s always so smooth and his words come out so natural.

“Sit.” Jin commands and you venture over to him. His eyes lower to your crotch, satisfied with himself that he got crotchless lingerie for you to wear. As much as he enjoyed your naked figure, there was something about the pink hue against your skin that he loves to stare at.

“On my thigh.” Jin commands once more and you know where he’s getting at. You swallow once more, seating yourself on his clothed thigh.

Jin loved when you were naked - or nearly - and he was fully clothed. There was something about getting you out of your clothes that drove him crazy, even if he was able to mask it perfectly - and you never fought him about it, either. You were the perfect submissive woman he needed - and the fact that you weren’t his woman made it better.

“Don’t just sit there shy, Y/N.” Jin speaks. He widens his legs, manspreading to get comfortable on the chair. “Go ahead and rub yourself on my thigh. It has to feel better than squeezing your legs together.”

You don’t fight Jin - you never do. Your hips begin to buckle. You never liked when Jin’s eyes were on you - they were so dark and voyeuristic; always watching you whenever he saw fit. However, there’s nothing you could ever say to him about it - he made sure to remind you just who signs your husbands paychecks.

Every Time you do this with Jin - cheat on your husband with his brother - it always ends with you regretting it. But, in the moment, you don’t allow yourself to ever deny him - you tell yourself because your life depends on him, but there was another side of you. The reality of it all that you were enjoying this - secretly enjoying the affair and how scandalous it was. You enjoyed the way Jin would touch you, sometimes even sneaking touches when his brother was around.

“You’re so wet, Y/N. You’re ruining my suit pants. It’s expensive - far more than anything your husband can afford.”

You think Jin enjoys talking down to his brother but cannot understand why. Your husband never does, you note, and when they’re around one another they appear to be close; often laughing and sharing stories of their childhood.

Jin places a hand on your thigh to squeeze it. “Go faster.”

You do as you’re told, a low groan releasing from your lips. You bite your lips to hold back another, but Jin slaps your thigh. “Stop hiding your moans. I want to hear you.” 

You moan a little louder, the friction against your clit feeling just right. You begin to rock your hips in circles, whining at how good it truly felt - and how pathetic you were for allowing this to happen.  

Jin’s eyes darken and he licks his plump lips. There was nothing like a woman - someone like you exactly - grinding against his thigh and chasing her own orgasm. You were considered off-limits - not only a married woman, but a woman who is married to his brother. You were like a forbidden fruit, something so tempting but he shouldn’t have; out of his reach.

But, you weren’t that. Nothing was out of Kim Seokjin’s reach - not even you. You wore the collar that he gave you willingly, along with the lingerie and now, your pussy is drenched and staining his suit pants. “Go ahead and cum for me, Y/N. I know you want to.” Jin says, squeezing your thigh even harder in encouragement. 

Your pussy is so warm and wet; it drenches through Jin’s suit pants and he can feel just how excited you are on his own thigh. 

Jin loves to watch you - loves to watch you come undone just for him. You grind against his thigh harder, whimpering freely as your eyes begin to roll in the back of your head.

Jin slides two fingers beneath your grinding pussy to have a feel of your wet clit and it takes everything in him to not groan at the juices that coat his fingers. “How slutty.” Jin’s voice is raspy as he responds to you.

Your body shudders with goosebumps with how deep Seokjin’s voice becomes. You’re now grinding against Jin’s fingers and you cum almost instantly, a shrill cry releasing from your throat.

Jin places his fingers into his mouth and hums. “How sweet you are, Y/N, cumming all over the place.” he pops his fingers from his mouth. “I let you cum, Y/N. I want you to do the same.”

“Yes, sir-”

Jin is already pushing you off of him and forcing you to your knees. Your eyes open instantly when your knees hit the cold floor, but you don’t protest. 

Jin shakes his head while a smirk forms onto his lips. “You’re so obedient, Y/N. You do everything I tell you to do without question.” he then places a hand against your cheek. “Isn’t that right?”

You nod your head. “That’s right, sir.” you respond. 

Jin hums, his eyes zoning in on your face. His thumb traces your lips softly for a bit, and you’re confused as to what he’s doing and what the hold up was. “I was thinking about giving your husband a raise. He’s been doing such a good job lately.”

There’s malice in Jin’s tone as he speaks; spite. He scoffs a bit after he says it and you swallow at what he’s about to say next in anticipation. “Depends on how well you treat me, Y/N.”

And there it was - you’ve known as much. Jin wasn’t doing anything out of the pure kindness of his heart; he was sleeping with his brother's wife after all. This was nothing but a game to him - whatever issues he had with his brother, you’d never know. 

There’s nothing for you to say in response to Jin. You only nod your head, your hands tangling with his suit pants to take him out. Jin watches you with fierce eyes, never leaving you once. 

Your hands are trembling under his gaze, but this isn’t something that you need to mess up.

It’s sad - and you cannot be upset with anyone but yourself. You’ve allowed Jin to grow comfortable with disrespecting your marriage - you allowed him to talk down about your husband to the point that he does it constantly, even in moments such as this. There’s a part of you that hates yourself for allowing yourself to be used by this man.

But then the other part of you is attempting to give yourself grace. The other side of you wanted to blame your husband for losing everything in the marriage; so much so that you felt like you needed to do this with Jin so the man wouldn’t grow spiteful - so you could remain in his home while your husband continued to work in his brother's company. 

Jin notices your internal dialogue as you begin to remove his cock from his underwear, but he doesn’t bring himself to care much. After all, he never heard a no from you - you gave him what he wanted without a fight.  

Jin was no monster - but you weren’t a saint either. You moaned for him loudly when he was inside of you. You begged for more when you were drunk off of pure pleasure. Your fingernails scarred his back and your juices would stain his clothing.

You wanted this just as badly as Jin did - you were just a married woman who, at the end of it all, had to look herself in the mirror. He didn’t have a wife he had to look at after fucking you - and he could care less about looking his brother in the face.

“You’re doing this for your husband.” Jin says to you, your hand wrapped firmly around his erect cock. His plump lips offer you a smile - that looks more like a smudged smirk - but all he wants to do is make you more comfortable. 

Your lips wrap around Jin’s tip, tongue swirling as if it was a lollipop. There’s pre-cum on it, your tastebuds swallowing the salty substance. 

‘You’re doing this for your husband’ Jin’s words ring through your ears as you do, your hands pumping the shaft of his cock. You couldn’t be so sure you were doing this for him anymore - as selfish as it sounds.

 Losing everything in a blink of an eye has you constantly fearing going through it once more and the selfish side of you was enjoying the attention you weren’t getting from your husband, but from his brother. You were enjoying the expensive gifts that he’d give and the random money he would wire into your account - even if it did eat away at you to accept them.

You continued to suck harder, taking Jin deeper into your mouth. He winces, his hands clenching slightly. Licking his lips, Jin tilts his head at you. “There’s my Y/N.” he moans, hooded eyes watching how purely whorish you appeared taking him fully. “There’s my girl coming out.”

His Y/N - Jin told you time and time again that a part of you - the side that accepted the affair - would come out. This was the side that would moan freely, would hug him closer and the side that would beg for more. This was his Y/N - the Y/N that was determined to make him cum by any means necessary; that would fuck him like her life depended on it (and of course it did).

Your eyes glance up at him and for a moment Jin is stuck. His cheeks flush at you - and it wasn’t something he needed you noticing; he had to have the ultimate control at all times.

The solution? Forcing your head down, taking him even deeper. Your nose hits the cleanly groom patch of hair on his pelvis, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag - but it only edges on Jin further. 

“Don’t do it for your husband, Y/N. Do it for yourself.” Jin says, his head firmly on the back of your head to keep you in place. “Maybe that would make you act a little better.”

Your tongue lays flat as you suck, your head managing to lean back so only the tip is in your mouth, and quickly before Jin could react, you take him back into your throat, sucking with all your might.

Jin hisses, his toes curling inside his dress shoes. The noises that echo off of his room are filthy - his moans mixed with your slurping and gagging.

“How selfish my Y/N truly is. You like having a cock in your throat as long as the cock is providing for you, huh?” Jin squeezes his hand into your hair to keep you firmly in place, panting at just how good you were taking him. “I guess I’ll have to spoil you after this, huh? Not like your husband could.”

Your eyes begin to water, but you refuse to stop your sucking. Jin’s hips are moving a bit, and he’s cursing low to himself. He wants to tear his eyes away from you - but he’s mesmerized. There’s drool running down your chin and your eyes are watery and to him you look absolutely beautiful -  how could he not want to wire you thousands of dollars after this?

You pop off of Jin’s cock with a loud ‘pop’ing sound, saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Your hands immediately wrap around his length to jerk him vigorously, your tongue twirling on the tip for him to cum.

“Oh, fuck.” Jin groans, right as your eyes and his connect. You were jerking his cock with need - as if you were the one that was cumming. He begins to whimper, his thighs trembling. The familiar bubbling in his abdomen is returning - like it did time and time again when he was with you. “So good for me, baby.”

Jin’s praises shouldn’t be getting to you, but they do. They always do. He could be demanding while you and he were intimate, as well as degrading. However, there were times in which he did speak to you nicely; complimenting you at how good you were to and for him. He’d often call you beautiful and assured that you would always be taken care of regardless of the situation you were in - in the end of it all, you took it as nothing but pillow talk. 

However, you were now in the moment just as Seokjin was and you were determined to make the man cum. You bring the tip of his cock back into your mouth and you continue to suck, your palm jerking him to cum. Doing this, Jin begins to pant, his speech cut off. His head hangs back and his eyes are rolling with pleasure - such a beautiful sight, you think. Even when convulsing in pleasure did Kim Seokjin look beautiful.

Jin groans -  a groan that comes from deep in his throat. He wants to praise you and tell you just how good you’re doing; but maybe that was the side of him that likes you. That, of course, he can’t. He’s unable to form any words and all he can focus on is the pleasure that runs through his body entirely. It was as if his brain was shutting down and fuck did it feel amazing.

Jin’s thighs are quivering and he’s cumming, his breathing coming out in hushed stutters. He cums so much, thick white robes painting the inside of your mouth. It’s so much that it surprises you that it begins to seep out of your mouth, but you assure yourself to swallow as much as you could.

You release Jin’s cock and heave, the air hitting your throat refreshing. You’re sure you looked a mess; tear stained cheeks, blurry and red eyes and drool (and cum) mixed on your lips. But you don’t dwell on the fact - it wasn’t anything Seokjin wasn’t accustomed to seeing already.

It takes a few moments for Jin to compose himself. His eyes are closed and his thighs gently tremble until they stop completely. His mind is flooding with just what he has gotten himself into with you - an act he does each time you manage to make him cum.

“Sir?”

Jin snaps his eyes open and looks at you. You’re on your knees - where you belonged - and looked at him with a tilted head.

Jin leans forward, licking his plump lips. “You’re so obedient.” he murmurs to you, the Jin you knew coming back like a full circle. “The collar suits you.”

You yelp when Jin snatches said collar and yanks it harshly. His lips meet yours in a rushed kiss - an action he’s never done. You and Seokjin don’t kiss; it’s an act far too intimate for two people having an affair. He never initiated it before, and neither have you. Yet, kissing Jin felt right and there's electricity running through your veins. His lips are warm and soft to the touch and though you never initiated a kiss with the man before, you don’t find yourself pushing away from it.

Jin is amused (and satisfied) when you softly protest when he pushes you away from him. “You look like a kick puppy, Y/N. When was the last time you kissed your husband?”

Jin snickers when you glance away - you did because even you didn’t know. Jin kept his hours long (intentionally, now you know) and there was never any time for you and him to ever be alone. And even though you loved your husband for wanting to be better and get out of the financial bind he put the two of you in, there's a sinister side to you that still despises him for putting you in that situation to begin with.

“Come.”

Jin yanks at your collar and has you standing to your feet along with him. He pushes you towards his bed and you fall back with a low yelp. 

“Open your legs.” Jin demands and instantly, you comply. “Good girl.” he murmurs.

Between your legs was Jin’s favorite place to be - being inside you or his tongue buried in your pussy. Your pussy is always wet for him; warm and inviting. You gave it up to him so willingly and each time he took it with gratitude. 

Jin couldn’t get enough of you - and it had to be a deeper reason. You weren’t his woman to have, but he took you selfishly. He buries his tongue deep against your clit, not taking another second away. He laps against your pussy eagerly, eyes glancing up to see your shocked (yet satisfied) face - brows knitted and mouth agape as a moan draws out.

Jin’s hands place themselves on your outer thigh, allowing you to slightly cage him in between them - because that could never stop him from having his taste of you. He has no choice but to bury his face deeper into your pussy, suckling even harder against your swollen clit.

“F-Feels so good, sir.” you wail and Jin knows this. His eyes never leave your face as his tongue continues to lap. “G-Gonna cum already.”

Jin snickers - you were always so quick to cum when he had you like this. Like the perfect little whore you were, he thinks. He knows his brother could never please you the same way he does - you always walked around so uptight and shy. Your legs clenched together for whatever friction because his brother was far too busy to pleasure you.

 Now, you had that glow to you. Jin assured that you’d cum each and every time you and him were together - just like now.

Jin slams your legs open, pinning them against your shoulder. The position is as lewd as his actions, but that doesn’t stop him. He devours your pussy entirely, tongue ravishing your clit so loudly that his suckling is dancing off of the walls.

“S-Sir, slow down-”

Jin didn’t want to hear anything you were about to say. You didn’t tell him what to do - he was Kim Seokjin. If he wanted to lick your clit until you were squirting against him he would - because he was Kim Seokjin. 

Jin’s hands hold your thighs apart even tighter to assure you have no way to escape him, his tongue sliding against your clit entirely and entering in and out of you. Your eyes snap shut, squeezing so tightly. You were being swallowed up by the black hole of pleasure. There’s whimpering coming from you as well as the familiar moisture at the corner of your eyes. 

Jin shoves you away hastily. “I’m going to fuck a baby into you, Y/N.” Jin says suddenly - an act that is just as shocking as him kissing you.

You don’t get time to protest before Jin is flipping you onto your stomach and forcing your ass into the air. He’s behind you, positioning himself at your entrance.

Jin enters you without hesitation, needing no time to prep you because of how wet you are. He starts off rough, cock so deep that it brings back the familiar black hole of pleasure. 

Jin is brutal as he fucks you - but he was a man on a mission. He’s clouded by his own lust and selfish desire that he doesn’t hold back any of his own thoughts. 

“You’d want that, wouldn’t you?” Jin asks harshly, pulling both of your hands behind your back to hoist you up. “For me to fuck a baby into you?”

“Y-Yes, sir!” you wail, far too gone in pleasure that you don’t completely take in what Jin is saying. 

“You’re so drunk off of dick that you’ll say anything. There’s my Y/N.” Jin cracks his hips deeper and deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. Your juices are leaking down your thigh and staining his bedsheets, but he would never care. “I’m going to get you pregnant and watch my pathetic brother raise the child as his.” he laughs gleefully, his plan completely insane. 

You’re pushed away from Jin and you fall completely against the mattress. Jin hikes a leg up so he can go deeper into you.

“But don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll make sure our child has the best of the best.” Jin groans, eyes focused on the way your ass bounces against him. “And when they’re of age, I’ll tell them the truth. That the pathetic father they thought they had was not really their father.” Jin leans down, both hands firmly against the mattress for support. “And they’ll inherit millions from me. It’s better than having nothing like my pathetic brother.”

“Feels so good!” you moan into the mattress and all Jin could do is laugh - because you were far too gone to notice anything he was saying; and just how real his plans for you are.

“Yeah?” Jin manages to flip you again and now on your back, he allows you to wrap your legs around him. “So good for me, Y/N. Such an obedient little whore.”

Jin connects his lips to yours again and instantly, you wrap your arms around him. You were determined not to let him go this time - and he allowed it. Kissing you felt right; even when it was wrong. Not only because you weren’t his woman (because he was well aware of such and didn’t give a fuck) but because it was a sign of affection.

“Want you to fuck me all night.” you plead against his lips, holding him so close that you coild feel his own heartbeat. 

So dick drink, Jin thinks, but he doesn’t respond. He’s unable to, far too focused on giving you exactly what you want. 

Jin ponders how his brother wasn’t fighting him to have more time off of work. Your pussy is amazing - carved from the Gods. You’re gripping him so tight with a pussy that’s so wet that if he was in his brothers position, he wouldn’t be at work now - no, he’d be fucking you into the mattress.

But Jin wasn’t your husband and he was doing exactly what he should be doing to you.

“Squeezing me so tight, Y/N. Gonna cum already?” Jin taunts, but even he was ready to cum inside of you.

 The thought of getting you pregnant is stuck deep in Jin’s mind; watching you grow heavy and round with his seed. He would have a deep bond with the child, assuring that he would be loved far more than his brother would be with the child. He would be impressed with how large your breast would be as you grew with his child and how beautiful you’d look pregnant.

“Shit,” Jin’s forehead presses against yours. He plunges his cock inside of you with need now - the need to impregnate immediately - and to do this as many times as it takes for you to conceive.

Warmth floods deep inside of you just as you’re reaching your high. You squeeze Jin, hugging him closer to your exhausted and convulsing body and never wanting to let the man go.

You and Jin fucked for hours in various positions you’ve never been in. You had awoken suddenly, body exhausted in a bedroom that didn’t belong to you. Jin wasn’t there, you noticed, and that was your cue to take your leave.

Doing the walk of shame back to your bedroom was something you’d have to look yourself in the mirror about later. Your body was aching and all you truly wanted to do was have a soothing bath and then go right back to sleep.

You opened the door to your bedroom and stopped in your tracks. Your eyes scanned the room entirely.

Balloons littered the ceiling entirely - all red, white and pink. Your bed - king-sized that sat in the middle of the room, sat rose petals shaped neatly into a large heart. In the middle of it sat a small envelope, but that was the least of your concerns. 

Flower bouquets are surrounding your bed - all roses of different colors - and there’s dozens of gift bags waiting to be opened.

You enter your bedroom and close your door behind you. You ponder did your husband do all of this for you - and if he did, just how did he manage to do so without wondering where you were at the entire time?

Your heart sinks at the thought of your husband doing this for you and you were cheating on him with his brother.

You grasp the small envelope on your bed and open it. It’s a card - something simple written inside of it but it causes your heart to swell with realization.

My Y/N.

Happy Valentine’s Day

-Seokjin

part 2 | teaser to part 2

[galeorderbride]

The Forest For The Trees - Fic Request (Gale x F!Tav)

A Gale smut piece requested by one of my OG readers @meglet1. Thank you so much for the request and for being you in general!! I seriously hope you like what I’ve written for you <3

18+ MDNI (This is SMUT/tags below)

Summary:

After Tav is nearly killed in a fight at Rivington Beach, Gale lets his fear get the best of him and a new couple spat ensues. Leading to a peaceful resolution :)

Tags: PiV sex, semi-public sex, inappropriate use of mage hand, oral sex (m and f receiving, including some choking), words of praise/encouragement, creampie, fingering (vaginal & anal), multiple orgasms, self-indulgent, some references to Tav having body issues.

Word count: 4.7K

Mind the tags, everyone. Fic below the cut:

“I decided to choose you and live, then you go off and almost get yourself killed!”

Gale wasn’t the type to air out his issues in front of everyone, but this time, he couldn’t shake the nervous energy off. Panic and anxiety of balancing on an uneven precipice, powerless. Just days ago, he chose to stay with Tav instead of doing as Mystra commanded him, deep in that haunting colony, where the Elder Brain resided and, because he decided to live, remained a threat to the entire Sword Coast.

Less than an hour ago, he and Tav returned from the beaches of Rivington with their companions. Running into a gaggle of rival gangs ready to slaughter each other. The guild, run by the infamous Nine Fingers Keene, and the new recruits of this Stone Lord everyone was talking about. Gale cared little for whose alliance went where. Not when Tav had decided to intervene right in the middle of things, doing her best to settle scores and ending up having to fight both of them.

In the crossfire, Tav was hit with an electrified weapon, a hammer imbued with thunderous damage effects that nearly killed her with the impact against her spine. Knocked down, she spent the remainder of the fight unconscious, no one having time to revive her until they’d finished the fight. Across a landscape of crime syndicate corpses, Gale watched with intensity as Shadowheart struggled to revive her. The image of her near dissolved heartbeat still aching within him, harsher than the orb. Gasping for breath at the last second when he thought he lost her forever.

She’d regained balance quickly, the powerful healing of Selune now imbued within Shadowheart’s fingers, even if she hadn’t quite gotten to admit it yet. Tav was walking normally, a little fatigued but nothing more than that. Which gave Gale the opportunity to stop being worried for her welfare and be upset instead.

“Do you know how close you came to death? How much I worried Shadowheart wouldn’t revive you? All for a bunch of criminals who would’ve cared for the dirt under their boots more than you!” Gale exclaimed as he paced around the hay shed at their camp outside Rivington. Tav followed, arms across her chest as she tried to contain a frustrated sigh.

“I wasn’t trying to get all of them against us. How many times has convincing people to cool their heads worked on this journey? Times we never expected! I didn’t think this would be an exception,” she replied, her voice soft but assertive in her own defense.

“That’s what happens when you expect things to work in your favour! We can never assume anything is an absolute certainty, and I’ve been saying this from the beginning. I know it’s in your nature to stick your neck out for people, but do recall that I gave up on what might be the heaviest task of my life so I could be with you!” Gale continued, letting his panic get the better of him.

Tav’s eyes widened, now no longer trying to placate. “Don’t you use that against me! My encouragement to have you stay with me is not a blank check to use against me when I do something you dislike. I asked you to stay because I love you! And I had no intention of starting a fight today, nor did I plan to end up in the state I did!”

This was around when the rest of the camp began to hear them arguing. Frigid looks turned their way by Shadowheart, Karlach and Wyll. Eyerolls and mischievous scoffing from Astarion. Jaheira simply shook her head and mumbled ‘young love’ under her breath. Gale pretended not to hear it.

She looked at him with such offense, eyes dotted with the threat of tears from his fury. Any motivation to be cross with her slowly waning each time his eyes met hers.

“I love you too! Which is why I’m so off put by what happened to you. I don’t want to see you putting yourself in danger and disregarding forethought! I don’t think you understand just how much I can’t—”

Gale didn’t finish the sentence, brought on by a fear that he’d overwhelm her in saying such an intense thing. They’d confessed their love in a spur of the moment, when the culmination of all they���d been through was knocking at the front door. Emotions were high, and while he meant every word he said, he didn’t want to cross a line and compromise the start of a wonderful thing with Tav. Deep down, he’d loved her from the moment he saw her, and each day he got closer to admitting that out loud. Precisely why he reacted with such fear to what happened at the beach.

Tav crossed her arms, an expression of seriousness he’d never seen before. Well, not directed at him.

“Can’t what? Don’t let this be the time you don’t use your words, Gale. Because I am this close to storming off,” she said, pinching her index finger and thumb together in an impatient motion.

“I can’t…live without…you,” he said, his voice starting loud and then slowly quieting as he completed the sentence.

The two of them stopped short, silence washing over them as his words sank into both their minds. Memories of their first night together flooding back, when he showed her everything he could offer. A beautiful experience in the Outer Planes, where their souls entwined within currents of raw weave. Expressing their new love in countless ways, too many for one evening, but they did all they could. Loving, tender, but despite it all, not real. Not bodies together, the physical exertion of passionate, violently yearning intimacy. Just what Gale became tempted with after he spoke those long awaited words, as the anger melted from his system and replaced itself with carnality.

There wasn’t time for Tav to respond. Astarion cut in with his usual mocking tone. “Would you two get a damned room? Your voices are grating and I’m trying to enjoy a nice glass of wine I stole from Last Light.”

“I knew that bottle was familiar!” Jaheira cried out, no longer paying attention to Gale and Tav.

Tav sighed, bothered by the chiding of their companions. She felt on the spot, watched in all the wrong ways. Gale gently grabbed her arm.

“Come over this way,” he demanded, short and impatient. Quite possibly the briefest she’d ever heard him speak.

He pulled her away from the camp, a short but fair distance from their companions. Clusters of bushes and broken trees began to fill the space as he brought her forward. The sun was setting above them, hues of paradisiacal magenta and orange above them, beaming through the shaking leaves. Tav didn’t have much time to gaze upon the natural beauty, for Gale led her as if running to safety.

“Gale, where are you taking me?! You’re pulling too much, I’m going to lose my balance,” Tav questioned.

A few seconds went by, Tav’s curiosity getting the better of her as she’d never seen him so flustered. Trees surrounded them, but not enough to block the bustling city lights of Rivington on one side and the fire of their camp on the other. Voices of Karlach and Lae’zel talking could still be heard from the distance they stood. Tav had never been to this side before, but Gale had a way of making her feel safe no matter where.

“Come here, love,” he said, his arms moving to hook around her waist as he pushed her gently against a large tree.

She had little time to take a breath before his lips were on hers, soft but with an ardent passion once resting in bubbling irritation, now sprouting into lust. Their bodies pressed together, hips against hips as Tav began to melt into his wandering touch. Her knees nearly buckled when his index finger grazed the ridge of her jaw, tongue caressing her own. Temptation to run her fingers through his wondrous hair was too great, that strange sensation of a near death if she didn’t, silken texture on her skin enough to forget about everything they argued about.

But his words hung loose in her mind, and she pulled out of the kiss for a moment. Their faces still centimetres apart as she whispered, “I can’t live without you either. I’m sorry I wasn’t careful.”

Gale rubbed his nose against hers, that playful, breathy grin plastered on his face. “Let’s just look out for each other, alright? It’s so easy to get ahead of oneself, and I love you too much to watch idle by and pray you know the risk. You are a powerhouse of might, my love, but neither of us is invincible.”

“I know, I know,” she said in a hushed tone, so whisper thin the crickets chirped louder. Night fell fast, unburdened by clouds and blanched with a sea of stars. Everything was perfect, a moment in time that both of them longed for since their first time together. Opportunities never coming soon enough as their arduous adventures took precedence over everything. Now was the time, when the sky’s darkness masked them from the rest of the world’s troubles.

Gale answered with peppering kisses down Tav’s neck, shivering at the supple softness against such a sensitive area. For the first time since before Mystra, he wanted something purely physical—mortal. Covered in the finite flesh of his new love, giving pieces of themselves as a simple reminder that they remained alive. He’d forgotten the lure of that desire, powerful and impossible to satiate without going the full way, being as close to Tav as humanly possible.

Cracked bark scratched the itches of Tav’s back, pressed ever harder with each kiss from neck to collarbone. Desire budding at the touch points of her body; at the tip of her breasts, the heat of her ears, the tingling between her legs. Those parts growing more swollen with want when she felt the brush of his palms around her waist, fingertips dipping under the hem of her shirt to tickle her lower stomach. They were like teenagers sneaking around behind a schoolyard, eyes darting back and forth to make sure no one saw them enjoy each other. A thrill long forgotten on both sides.

“Gale, won’t someone hear us? We’re still close to camp,” Tav said between laboured, lustful breaths.

“With all we’ve been through, I highly doubt they care. But to ease your anxieties,” Gale replied, waving his hand to create a violet purple dome around them, “A silencing spell.”

“Perfect,” she said.

With a quick maneuver, Gale unclipped the belt of her wrapped shirt, slowly folding the fabric over her shoulders. He took his time, relishing in the pull of cloth from skin, little reveals each second until she bore herself bare to him. A maroon brasier remained, almost black under the moonlight and slipping low. Enough to catch a glimpse of her nipples, begging to spring free from constriction. Meanwhile, Gale spread her longer shirt across the ground, using clothes as a makeshift bed—if not to remedy the future ache of his knees. He unwrapped his robes as well, left only in a white, linen shirt and trousers.

He could hardly concentrate, the beauty of Tav under the moonlight too transfixing to not stare upon. Fitted perfectly in her under clothes, the rise and fall of her chest teasing him without trying. Watching like she didn’t notice, but she did, and began to strip for his pleasure. Removing the straps of the bra first, slow against her shoulders, the perk of her breasts peeking out before the clasp snapped free. Gale stood before her, watching with a subtle grin.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Tav. Do you know how much? How I ache to the point of fever when graced with your presence?” He asked, voice dark with lust, a gruffness she didn’t hear when in the Outer Planes.

“Even as I am? No magic or beautiful strands of starry weave around me? Surely this can’t be as exciting as that time,” she said, not intending to be self conscious, but failing to keep that in check. Not a goddess, not a higher being in the form of a body, but just herself. Scars, blemishes, bad angles and all. Mortal in all the wrong ways.

“As you are is more than anything the weave could offer. Having you naked under the moon like this is a memory embedded in my mind for eternities to come,” he said, stepping over to her to help unbutton her pants. He ensured his fingers touched every part, no matter where, and his breath against her neck warmed and cooled.

“Oh, my, you give me no chance with words like that,” she said.

Between bountiful, romantic kisses, the rest of their clothes were discarded into the flattened pile. Too impatient to go somewhere with room to conjure a full bed, absorbed in the embrace of each other as they fell into the fabric. Tav straddled his waist, lowering down so she could still glide her tongue against his. Never wishing to part her lips from his for the rest of the night. Craving the push of his hands embedded in her skin, down her spine and over the hill of her ass, ending with a firm squeeze.

Not a single part of her didn’t feel something. Her nipples gliding against his chest hair, hardening them in seconds with the playful tingle at the tips. His hands finding purchase, amused enough to spank the right cheek with a hard enough force to have her yelp giggle and yelp out loud. And that irresistible grind of his growing erection pushing against her core, hastier than himself, simply begging to push into that tight, unoccupied hole. Just the beginning, and yet she already preferred being together like this, fully in tandem with each other, nothing but their beating hearts and heated bodies.

Eventually, both of them needed to take a breath, locked in a heated make out for a time they lost count of. Tav lifted her body up, back arched in pleasure as Gale followed teeth-first. Biting, sucking, licking her nipples, each side deserving of his equal attention. Delicate moans grew into hot, heavy woes of passion, caring little for noise control with the purple dome of silence above them. Saliva trailed down her breasts, her wizard so lost in the ecstasy of tasting those pink, round buds. Hugging her in his arms, moving his cock against her to feel the head getting wetter with her slick.

Tav whispered in his ear, fingers tangled in his hair, “Perhaps I should get into danger more often, if this is the consequence.”

Gale chuckled, muffled by the slide of his tongue around her earlobe, “No need. Should you want my services, all you have to do is ask. Nicely. With a very eager ‘please’. Now, I am on the precipice of sliding into you this instant. But I’d have you come first.”

Hands firm on her ass, he pushed her forward, legs buckling over as he laid down. Angling himself so her core hovered over his face as he continued, “On my mouth, darling.”

Unable to contain her giggles, she adjusted her legs to straddle the sides of his face. Too gradual for Gale as he grabbed her hips and pulled her down. Tav gasped from the heavenly sensation, his lips and tongue all over her pussy in seconds, nodding his jaw up and down to stimulate her slit with his stubble. His tongue moved with expert precision, letting Tav take control of the pace as he moaned into her cunt, slurping and sucking at her as if drowning himself in her essence. There wasn’t enough lip biting and stifled moans in the world to keep her from building up to a snapping orgasm, inch by inch as she swivelled her hips around his face. His nose jutted against her pubic bone, mouth focused entirely on her swollen clit, pushing her down to ensure she wouldn’t move away. Even as her inner thigh muscles shook with pleasured tremors.

Tav stuttered out, “Holy fu…ck…Gale, I’m s-so close. Keep going, keep going! Now, yes, now!”

At that point, she was using any superlative her blurred mind could conjure. An orgasm flowered within her, strong, hot and never felt in a very long time. She clawed his hair under her legs, twitching hips riding out a wet climax, dripping into his beard. A taste he’d never get enough of, buttery and sweet on his tongue. He’d be happy to suffocate under her in a bid to have her finish again.

Coming down wasn’t an option, continuing to flick his tongue against her clit even as her muscles relaxed. Sensitivity stung at her pussy, sharp hits of pleasure shining through with each feral moan he made. A sound so enticing, she melted for him, allowing his hands still on her ass to push her further forward, rear completely up. Behind her, he snapped his fingers, figments of magic beckoning around her in a light blue glow. Tav could barely pay attention, lost in the feeling of his tongue lapping at her cunt. Until two fingers pushed into her entrance, filling her quick but smooth in an electrified vibration. A mage hand, finger fucking her from behind. Taking her to a place of impossible pleasure, no choice but to let go.

As Gale sucked at her clit, muffled words came from below her, “Does that feel nice, my love? Can you cum all over my face again? That’s it, let the hand fuck you, good girl.”

“Gods above, Gale, I’m so sensitive! But fuck it feels so good!” She exclaimed, whimpering with each buck of her hips against his mouth, the hand following every angle so not a centimetre pulled out. Pumping into her tight walls, angling in just the right direction to have her shaking for a second climax.

“Let me help you even more,” Gale said, motioning his wrist to command the mage hand to push its thumb at the entrance of her asshole. Prodding in and out, gently easing in enough to thrust in the same rhythm as the fingers, slick sounds of sex invading her ears. She gasped at the hot tightness, cunt thoroughly stimulated in every way. It was perfect, hitting every spot just how she liked, and some she didn’t know existed. Gale was simply eager to please, laughing slyly as he felt her orgasm again.

Tav quaked at her second finish, overwhelmed with searing ecstasy. She cried out, “I can’t take it anymore, please! Too—too sensitive.”

The mage hand vanished with her command, easing the pressure of overstimulation palpating in her veins. Gale couldn’t resist one, soft kiss on her clit before letting her move off of him. Without her body to focus on, the ache of his rock hard cock snapped into awareness. Precum dotting the head, so stiff he feared it might break at the gentlest touch. Proven wrong when Tav brought her lips down to the tip, licking off the salty cum. Giving him a taste of his own medicine as he shivered in sensitive rapture. Both of them had a tendency to get carried away, as what was meant to be a simple tease with her tongue led to her taking his cock into her mouth. Using her hand to pump at the bottom of the shaft, too big to go all the way down.

Choking and sucking sounds filled the air as Gale writhed under the mercy of her mouth. Running her hand up and down his bare thigh, hypnotized by the lusty song of his satisfied whimpers. He wanted to tell her this wasn’t necessary, he enjoyed seeing her enjoyment. But as her throat coated his cock, he was rendered speechless. More so when she bobbed her head up and down, moaning through her nose as he gently joined her by fucking her mouth. Small, quick thrusts in fear of hurting her, but enough to make his calf muscles strain.

Spit and precum doused his cock as she lifted him out of her mouth, a raunchy ‘pop’ sound coming from her lips. Gale’s shaken, pleasured sighs covered the forest, stimulated by the cold air kissing the wet surface of his raised erection. Tav fawned over how it glistened, her core pulsing and tightening with the silent beg to be filled. Surely, she’d pass out if he wasn’t inside her immediately.

Gale exhaled deeply, shaking his head with unfathomable joy. “You will be the death of me. That felt…so good. I don’t even know how to describe it.”

She smiled, failing to contain the blush on her face. How she loved to know he was already satisfied. “We’re not done yet, my love.”

Her leg hooked back over his waist, straddling him again. This time, angling the opening of her cunt right against the desperate head of his thick cock. He looked so beautiful below her, gleaming with sweat and rosy with anticipation. Fingertips tickling up and down the sides of her thighs. Gods, when he laughed, that lusty chuckle of boiling desire had her foolish in his arms. She chased that sound, easing down on his cock until he bottomed out inside her. The stretch and slick of her walls fluttering around him forcing a high pitched whimper from her. Clit shuddering at the sensation of little hairs against it, nearly orgasming right there. Never had she wanted someone so much, craved another’s touch in a way she didn’t know was possible until meeting him. Everything about him was magnificent.

“Moan for me, love. I want to hear your every sound as I fuck you,” Tav demanded, locking her palms on his chest as she began to ride him. Fast, fervently, hips bucking back and forth so good he obeyed instantly. Husky, sultry, moans and even guttural growls with each grind of her pussy against him.

One hand stayed on her thigh and the other kneaded at her breast, his thumb flicking and pinching her nipple while her languid movements continued. By now, he could see when she was close, biting down on her lip to concentrate as she ignored her aching muscles. More warmth and wetness dripped along his cock. He nodded to her, let her use him as a toy for her own pleasure, moving pieces of hair from her face at the same time.

“Let me see you cum again, please. That’s it, ride my cock like that. So wet for me, I can’t believe it. Keep going, yes, very good. You’re doing so well,” he said, words of encouragement coming with his thumb moving to her clit. Rubbing the spot he learned she liked, just a little assistance in getting her over that impossible edge.

Tav’s body cramped up as she squeezed onto his cock, crying out Gale’s name as her third climax ripped through her lower half, felt even at the tingling peak of her breasts. He could’ve done anything in that moment, came anywhere he liked, and she’d be fine with it. Her orgasm all the stronger as she pictured being covered in him from face to pussy. A debauched mess on top of clothes, fully vulnerable to him.

Seeing her above him brought his own release closer. Unable to wait as he pulled her torso down to kiss her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth with reckless abandon. Tav yelped playfully as they kissed, paralyzed by the ecstasy of being fucked into. Sore, sensitive and hedonistic, she relished in the hard thrusting and the heated touch of their perspired bodies together. Wishing this would never end but craving his release inside her at the same time.

She left the kiss to whisper in his ear, biting his earlobe, licking at him, “Finish inside me. Please, I want it so bad.”

“Oh, gods, Tav I’m going to—right…ah!” He groaned out the unfinished sentence, his impatient cock spilling inside of her tight hole. He pulsed within her, feeling his spine arch as he experienced likely the greatest orgasm he’d ever had. Reaching his entire body, lasting longer, an addicting taste of eternal paradise. Tav’s soft whimpers the final touch to the most wonderful feeling.

She moved off of him, laying flat with her legs open. Gale still felt trickles of desire in his stomach, not enough to get hard again so quickly, but enough to lean over her thoroughly fucked cunt. His breath warmed her skin as he caressed his tongue along her clit, letting his index finger rub her cum-filled entrance as he did. All she could do was wheeze, too tired for a full moan but adoring the feeling of his mouth on her again. He was gentle this time, careful not to bring out the growing soreness. No, he just softly licked, kissed and sucked at her clit, stomach sinking with carnal intrigue as he watched his cum dripping out of her. He wanted to mark his territory, give her one more orgasm to be certain she knew she was his. Even just a little one.

Tav concentrated with the full power of her exhausted mind, feeling herself ready to climax once more. She couldn’t believe how skilled he was, moaning his name out again as he pinched her lips together, pushing her clit further into his mouth. That, mixed with the amazing sensation of his cum inside of her, was enough to inch her into that little release. Her fingers clutching his hair, pulling slightly as she came for a fourth time. A tiny bit more of his seed poured out of her as she relaxed.

“Perfect,” he said, leaving her core and moving to lay beside her, “You are amazing. I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”

Tav smiled, cuddling into the crux of his shoulder, “I should be the one to say that. No one’s ever been so attentive to me. And by the gods, I have never finished that many times.”

“Oh, my love, I am excited to inform you that wasn’t even all I can do. If I had you in a bed, with a private bathroom, different corners of the room to take you in; you’d have at least six, I’d make sure of it,” he replied.

“In that case, we must find an inn as soon as possible,” she replied, kissing his cheek as he scooped her body closer to him.

They cuddled for a few minutes more, letting the cool, night air dry their sweat-drenched bodies before returning to camp. Hand-in-hand, eyes doled with the fire of new romance and the comedown from lovemaking. What began as the rising moon, evening pink with sunset, had transformed into deep night, pleasantly dark and glinting with fresh, sparkling stars. Neither of them wished for a conclusion, but sleep beckoned and they had no idea what might happen tomorrow. Tav only knew that she’d refrain from taking too many risks, as now she’d become a fool for someone else entirely.

Gale and Tav agreed to share a tent tonight, and from now on. First, she went to the smouldering fire to grab a piece of sunmelon and her water canteen. The rest of the camp now silent as everyone retired for the evening, except for their most nocturnal companion: Astarion. Who had returned from the other side of the woods, pallid complexion brighter than usual, a sign that he just fed on an animal.

“Good hunt?” She asked, finishing off the last bite of her sunmelon piece and throwing the peel in the fire.

“Never as good as the real thing, darling, but enough to tide me over. Perhaps I should’ve saved some for you, tired little adventurer,” he replied, brow raised in that cheeky expression. Always present when he was about to take the piss out of someone.

“Fruit and water will suit me fine. Goodnight, Astarion,” she replied, turning to head for Gale’s tent.

Astarion spoke as she walked away, “By the way, remind your wizard to maintain his silencing concentration. If I’m going to hear your debauchery, I’d rather hear it from the beginning and not halfway through. Goodnight, Tav!”

Tav cleared her throat, swallowing down her growing embarrassment as she walked to Gale’s tent. Knowing fully well what kind of teasing she’d endure the next morning. For now, she would simply sleep in Gale’s arms and deal with the rest as they came.

[bloop-bl00p]

When you forget there’s sin in Seven Deadly Sins

[I guess this could be treated as part two of my rant about Hell’s ruling class.]

The Seven Sins are the embodiment of their vice, in a modern setting, they will probably be seeking to indulge in harmful activities themselves since they are immortal and can’t face consequences and influence others into falling into dangerous lifestyles. I can even see a scenario when each of them tries to make propaganda through the internet with platforms like Instagram or TikTok, like Beelzebub promoting Bezzle Juice except that it’s purposely made to be extremely addictive and one shot of it gets you hooked forever.

We’re gonna start with Lucifer, the only angel of the Seven. He’s a dreamer quirky cutie patootie with dePwezIOn that just wanted to give humanity Fwee Wil🥺.

What were Lucifer’s plans/dreams for humankind in the first place? He was dismissed as a troublemaker, okay…? What portrayed him as such? He’s a socially awkward silly guy but honestly, that’s all there is to his character. But I won’t get too deep with these questions maybe we’ll get more answers in Hazbin. However, what I can ask is…

How did Lucifer manage to find himself so close to The Garden of Eden? If I’m making something important I ain’t letting the petulant kid get close to it because… you know he might ruin it.

Elder or not Lucifer is still a Seraphim, did he not know that giving Free Will to humans would mess up everything? Even if HE didn't know what about the others? Were the angels even aware of Evil as a whole? If yes, why didn't they warn Lucifer before giving him access to Eden? Like “Hey dude the glowing red Tree in the middle of the Garden is bad news don’t let the mortals near it.” was it that hard?

Can someone explain to me how is this the embodiment of Pride? I personally don't see anything prideful in his attitude at all. Pride is the belief that you don’t need God in your spiritual journey, in a worst-case scenario, you think yourself above him. In the Bible, Lucifer was too Proud to bow before mankind and tried to overthrow God which led to his banishment. But since Viv totally changed the story and forgot to add the Pride elements, there’s nothing justifying Lucifer’s title as Pride incarnate.

TW: Mention of sexual assault/rape and a brief mention of other sexual practices.

Following with Asmodeus, why is he like this? Don't get me wrong, I can understand why he isn't a fan of rape as a whole, rape is rarely, dare I say never, about sexual craving, it’s about control. Val doesn't rape Angel Dust, and his employees because he feels needy, he assaults them because he knows that’ll break them psychologically and physically which makes them vulnerable to manipulation. Sexual assault as a whole is never about lust.

It makes sense if we drop out of the fact that Lust isn’t just physical but religiously speaking just an intense craving for something, like power or control. Viv took the easy way and reduced it to a physical craving so Asmodeus could be anti-rape I can’t blame her for that, it’s her ✨interpretation.✨

So Asmodeus is Pro Concent and it kinda makes sense. Since he’s the Prince of Lust, he technically should have influence over the culture in the Lust Ring and other species like Succubus should at least be weirded out by innuendo of non-consensual sex.

Well, shit.

“OooOoooOOH But Tiz is Not Rape!”

Compare the succubus’ abilities to aphrodisiacs and it all makes sense. Increasing someone’s libido without their consent alone is sexual misconduct proceeding to have sex with them later is rape. And it’s not the only instance of succubus assaulting people.

[Context: Ep3 S1, Verosika’s crew basically made condescending comments on how Moxie was cute and how they wanted to kiss him despite his discomfort and the fact that he mentioned being married. They still eventually kissed him by force and it was treated as a joke. “I care about male victims.” Sure we believe you.]

So Asmodeus is a hypocrite for giving succubus and incubus a way to get to Earth while knowing they are raping as many humans as possible.

“D3mOn @re BAAAAAAD Pweple So |t makse sense.☝️🤓”

I know, I wouldn’t complain that much if Asmodeus wasn’t painted as this cutie patootie lovely doe who is so in love with his lovely cute good boy partner.

Talking about partners, why does the Prince, no… why does LUST INCARNATE have ONE partner? The dude’s sex drive should be higher than the Olympus Mons and you’re telling me he doesn’t have a harem at disposition and he’s FAITHFUL?!! No free relationship, no hookups, no polyamorous relationship, and no mention of orgies he organizes to test the efficiency of his toys! Hell, we’re talking about Lust shouldn’t he be more inclined to have exhibitionist behavior (In recent episodes Lust’s citizens were desensitized about voyeurism so showing a bit of skin shouldn't be a problem)? Or, I don’t know, the ability to change his appearance and sex to appeal to a larger audience. Maybe the smoke secreted by his fire can serve as an aphrodisiac he only uses to put his partners in the mood (With their consent if she’s so attached to that idea.)

Viv, with two shows whose humor is mostly based on sex you certainly lack representations in terms of positive sexual activities, every time sex is mentioned in both of her projects it’s either a joke or diabolized. I’ve seen teens on Wattpad and AO3 writing foul smut with sexual practice so taboo it’ll make you gasp out loud! Take an example! (This was obliviously a joke but seriously, smut’s writers scare me with their tags.)

This leads us to Beelzebub, she’s supposed to be…. an animal tamer? She did not give off this vibe at all, she’s a party girl at best, stop saying things on Twitter Viv, and show it in your shows!

Is there a reason for her to be so nice? What do you mean you don’t want Bliztø to lose himself in alcohol and sex, you’re all about overindulgence. If anything she should actively invite people who are mentally distressed as they’ll be more willing to drink excessively in a “forget my life’s issues” type of way. This could also explain why so many people in her parties are minorities, Hellhounds and Imps are treated like shit by Hell’s society so being invited to one of Queen Bee’s parties will be a great honor and a way for them to forget how difficult their life is.

“E3RmS Actoualli, Bee ite the Viiiibe! S0 ze kant let Peple b3 s@d or ze will be sad too. ☝️🤓”

Ah… okay, still don't explain why she can’t be a bitch about it. Since she “eats the vibe” and feels for her people she could be affected by Blizt's destructive behavior and be absolutely furious someone is ruining her parties for her! Then she could have gotten to Loona and been like “Look your dad doesn't have the vibe I’m looking for so get him out unless you wanna learn what happen to party pooper.” implying that she will most likely kill him (or eat him) and that this isn't the first time she offed someone for that. But I guess we can make another EMBODIMENT OF SINS a decent girl, it’s Viv ✨interpretation.✨

Going forward with Mammon, Viv humanized the Sins mentioned up there, so you would think Mammon would also get the humanization treatment?

“T3re Is NOO g0od s|de to GrEed!!!!! 😡”

Okay.

What’s Greed, it’s a selfish desire for more than what you already have (money, fame, etc...) The mention of selfishness doesn’t give Greed a positive connotation but you forgot…. This is Viv ✨interpretation✨ she reduced Lust to craving sexual intimacy just so she could make Asmodeus Pro Concent. Beelzebub doesn't need food she eats the Viiiiibe so she can’t let people self-destruct! Here she’ll politely ask you to go away because she caaaaaares. And Lucifer isn’t Prideful at all.

She removed part of the definition of each Sins so she could make them good people and you’re telling me that she couldn't do the same for Mammon?!

“But H0w can ze posibli m@ke Greed Pozitif?”

If you remove the selfish aspect, Greed is wanting something more. There’s nothing wrong with that, like wanting more recognition, and more money when you’re poor. Mammon could have been this guy who worked himself at the top and his money could have been the fruit of his hard work.

So why, of all the Sins that got turned down was Greed the only one who got the “I’m pure Evil” treatment?

The Seven Deadly Sins aren't supposed to be decent beings. They represent the worst of what humanity can do and they are embodied by equally bad entities. With a setup as shitty as the Hellaverse, where there are little to no rules, slavery, classism, and drugs available everywhere I was expecting them to be a tad bit vicious, purposely making the life of everyone worse for their benefit. Mammon could have been the reason for this capitalist society as it’s the perfect environment to develop other sins and his. Yet, Beelzebub is friendly to the Hellhounds while letting them be treated like lesser than how we treat dogs. There’s even rehabs in Hell, Verosika and Barbie were in the same one.

Asmodeus will sue you if you rape someone unless you’re a succubus. Ironically he said that he’s against love potions when that’s literally what the succubus do with their abilities, get you in the mood without you knowing.

Lucifer is the number one silly guy and he even has an attraction parc for others to have fun.

I know it’s Viv ✨ interpretation✨ but you have to make it make sense. You can’t have demons this high-ranked being nice portray them as good people in the narrative when they are responsible for Hell being so unfair to the lower class.

As for the other sins…

Traditionally speaking Wrath isn't just unjustified violence but hatred and a desire for revenge. I think that’s one of the main reasons Satan and Lucifer are treated as the same person as Lucifer is both prideful, hates God, and seeks revenge. I don't see how Viv’s Satan could be vengeful as they were no war with Heaven to begin with.

Envy isn’t wanting something that someone else has (it’s jealousy), it’s hating someone because they have something that you don’t. Which often results in trying to make the life of this person worse but that’s another thing. I didn't see anything about Sloth and judging by the Sloth Ring, Beelphagor is going to be medical-themed, we know he makes drugs and has a brand of anti-depressant named “Happy Pills.” (Nothing to do with the circus aesthetic she was going for.)

I don’t know if Viv really has a good grasp of what these Sin are traditionally as she claims but we have to see in future episodes. My guess is no.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO SATORU x FEM READER

The Zenins want Megumi. Gojo isn’t having it.

wc — 1.7k

tags — one suggestive line after “those girls are better off without you” if you want to avoid it, set after 棠, part of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together

Gojo’s been in the doghouse since last night. Not literally, obviously - though he might have preferred it if you were there with him, at least. He’d take anything over being kicked out of your shared bedroom and being forced to sleep on the couch. 

If you had it your way, you’d prolong his punishment, but you can’t. Not when, as he told you last night, the Zenins are coming today to wrest Megumi from your custody. 

Fat chance. 

You’d die before you let that happen. 

Gojo’s not too keen on either of those outcomes. For the first time in his life, he’s taking the pacifist’s route and talking it out, though you’re sure his version of talking involves more insults than most people’s. 

He thought about simply having it out with the elders, but it’s not worth it. Not when he has a plan for the future of Jujutsu Society. Not when he has you, Megumi, and Tsumiki. He’s playing the long game. He can’t afford to screw it up now. 

Being a family man really has ruined him. 

Zenin Keiko is a tall woman with a severe black bob and the characteristic Zenin look of perpetual contempt. She’s Naoya’s cousin, alright. 

“Twice-removed,” Gojo whispers to you. “Or illegitimate. Something like that, I can’t remember.” 

“Shut up,” you whisper back out of the corner of your mouth. “She’s going to hear you.” 

Welcoming a Zenin into your home feels like blasphemy, though you suppose Gojo is the closest thing Jujutsu society has to a god. 

Gojo’s unimpressed by her, mostly because he feels like the Zenins are mocking him. It’s not like anyone can take him on, but to send someone who has no battle capabilities feels like an insult.  

Keiko is an auxiliary manager with no cursed technique to speak of besides a weak barrier. It’s a wonder she has the nerve to speak to Gojo. The Zenins truly did not care about her if they sent her as the proxy to undermine your roles as the Fushiguro children’s guardians. In fact, you suspect that’s the precise reason she was chosen - because she’s expendable. 

Keiko, to her credit, shows no sign of fear. 

“I’d like to meet the children, Mr. Gojo. It’ll give me a good grasp of what the situation is.” 

“Hell no,” Gojo outright laughs in her face. “I’m not letting a Zenin near my brats. Your-“

“Gojo.” You squeeze his knee. Cooperate. 

“I’ll go get them,” he says begrudgingly.

The two of you sandwich the children between you on the couch. Tsumiki sits on Gojo’s left. Megumi sits on your right. That way, the two that are most likely to fight are separated. It’s a strategized united front. 

“Megumi, do you like your guardians? Do you like staying here?” 

Megumi looks at you. You smile at him encouragingly - and there Keiko goes, scribbling away in her notebook. She’s probably saying something about how Megumi is so scared of you he won’t answer the question unless you give him permission. 

“Are you sure? Forgive me, but Gojo seems a little…immature for a parent.” 

A direct attack right out of the gates. Gojo objects to this very accurate assessment of his character. 

“He’s fine, I guess,” Megumi says. There’s more scribbling. You’re starting to hate the sound of pen on paper. “I like-“ 

He looks at you. There’s a tiny blush on his cheeks, just the faintest hint of red. More quietly, he says, “It’s fine, cause she takes care of us.” 

Gojo stares at him, slack-jawed. “Are you kidding me? You are one ungrateful brat. Who found you? Who took you in?” 

Tsumiki chimes in, “We like Gojo a lot too! He’s fun.” 

Keiko ignores her completely, focusing on Megumi instead. Your distaste for her grows. 

“Would you say that Gojo has an active role in taking care of you?” 

“Why aren’t you asking Tsumiki anything?” Megumi interrupts. “Her opinion’s important too.” 

Keiko gives him a strained smile. Gojo reaches behind Tsumiki on the couch to ruffle Megumi’s hair. He only tolerates this for five seconds before he shakes his head to get him off. 

“He loves me,” Gojo says. 

“I have Stockholm syndrome,” Megumi says. ‘Help,’ he mouthes. 

“He’s joking,” Tsumiki says nervously.

You’ve given up on making them behave. It’s just not happening. 

Keiko seems to have given up too. Rather than continue prodding Megumi, she turns to Gojo. 

“How often are you home?”

“Basically every day,” Gojo lies. He does try his best, but it’s more like every other day. Such is the fate of the strongest sorcerer. 

“Don’t want my baby all alone, poor little thing.” 

He catches your look and cackles. “No, the other one. My other baby,” and the kiss he presses to your knuckles is so tender it melts your heart. 

Keiko makes an uncomfortable expression. “Please try to stay focused, Mr. Gojo.” 

Megumi gags loudly. Tsumiki pinches his arm to get him to shut up and he yelps. Keiko narrows her eyes and makes another note. 

“I understand how Gojo might take responsibility for the children,” Keiko says, directing her attention to you, “but how did you come into the picture. Are you a girlfriend-“

“Wife,” Gojo interjects. 

Keiko’s entire body does an approximation of what it would look if a human had a screenshot function. 

“Aren’t you children?”

You don’t like Keiko at all, but you respect the balls it takes to talk to Gojo like that. All the Zenins seem to have that death wish of wanting to mouth off to the strongest. Maybe it’s a genetic thing. 

Gojo shrugs. “If I’m old enough for the missions you send me on, I’m old enough to take care of kids, right? How hard can it be?”

You pinch his thigh. “Gojo.” 

“What? It is easy. You just give them a bunch of lollipops and call it a day.” 

Keiko’s writing is now background noise to you. “Are you still doing that? I told you-“

“It’s fine! All kids need sugar to grow. I had a sweet tooth when I was their age.”

“And that’s probably the reason why you still have one now! Except it’s rotting your teeth-“

“It’s not-“

“It is!”

“Don’t be so uptight!”

“How does it look if I’m always saying no to him and you’re always saying yes? It isn’t fair, Satoru. Parenting has to be a team effort.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about you playing good cop, bad cop with him!” 

“Have you gone insane? We went over this! He likes you more than me! There is no good cop, bad cop when he just takes your side every single time.” 

“Excuse me,” Keiko says. She’s somehow managed to look a complex combination of perplexed, annoyed, and satisfied. “Please take care of your lovers’ tiffs outside of this interview. I will say that this doesn’t seem like an environment particularly conducive to raising children, however.” 

“What do you know?” Gojo says rudely. “The only reason you’re even doing this interview is because I’m letting you.” 

Normally, you would tell him off, but in front of the Zenins? You’re a united front. You place a hand on his forearm and look down your nose at the woman in front of you as best as you can when she’s taller than most people you meet. 

“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome,” you say. 

“You agreed to an interview,” she says. 

“An interview, not an inquisition.”

“You can’t refuse a request from the elders without consequences,” she says, as patiently as she would speak to a child. It’s condescending. 

“Are you threatening my wife?” 

When you look to your side, Gojo’s face is shadowed. His eyes are storm dark and frightening. Keiko can’t hide her visceral reaction. 

She forgets her coat on her way out, she’s in such a hurry to leave. Gojo takes it and disappears. 

While he’s away, you let Megumi and Tsumiki return to their rooms. They’re muttering amongst themselves, but you don’t pry. Children need their space, too. You’ll talk to them about it later. 

He’s back within a minute. 

“What did you do with it?” You’re bracing yourself for the answer. 

“I just sent a message,” he says, as cheerily as if nothing had happened. “Think we passed that?” 

“Gojo, I think that’s the first test you’ve ever failed. Did you see the way she was writing during the last twenty minutes? And Megumi and Tsumiki! Every time they said something, she made a face!” 

Gojo shrugs, still so certain of his place in the hierarchy. One day, the elders will get tired of him throwing his weight around like Jujutsu’s one and only tyrant, but not someday soon if they want to keep their heads. 

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’m not going to make Megumi and Tsumiki act like repressed little puppet children just so that they can find some way to snipe them out from under us anyways. Who knows, maybe we’ll teach the Zenins a thing or two about healthy child raising. I hear they have two girls now. One of them has no cursed energy. Should we kidnap some more children?” 

“Like you know anything about healthy parenting,” you snark. “Those girls are better off without you.” 

“Does being mean to me get you off or something?” 

“Do you want to find out?” 

“I would love to,” he purrs, sliding a hand under your shirt just so slightly so his nails prick at your lower stomach. You grab his wrist. 

“Sorry,” you say, your stomach churning at the joke gone wrong. “I can’t.”

He stops immediately. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just- They want Megumi badly enough to go to the higher ups. I know what they do to their children. I can’t let him go there, Satoru. I can’t.” 

“I won’t let that happen.”

“I can’t stop thinking about those girls.”

“Come here,” he says. 

You lean closer to him. He lifts his arm so easily, without thinking. When you slide under it, you fit into him perfectly. 

Now that you’re safely tucked under his arm, you feel sheltered from anything that could happen.  “I don’t want to give the kids to the Zenins. They’re monsters. And they would make monsters out of them.” 

“That’s only if they take them away,” Gojo says, his smile fanged and vicious. 

“And if they do?”

“I hope they try.”

You trust him. 

You know he’ll keep his word. If Gojo says Megumi and Tsumiki won’t be going to the Zenins as long as he’s alive, then they won’t be going at all. 

[susiekern]

wife me up - Gojo Satoru x y/n

a/n: wrote that at work, obv not proofread, my first time writing an actual y/n x character, so any feedback is appreciated

summary: when you first met Satoru, you didn't expected things to go that way, but an heir must do what is expected from them, right?

word count: 4,354

If someone would ask you about your relationship with Gojo Satoru, you'd probably cringe and say it was... complicated. But no one ever asked. They just assumed you'd already clicked, and things were great between you two. You were to get married after all. Well, if only it was that simple.

But let's start from the beginning.

You first met Satoru during an exchange event. He was a third-year student, already a living legend. You were a second-year and an heir to the y/s clan, its future. But back then, it didn't matter. When your paths crossed during a team battle and he saw you fight against Nanami Kento, he was impressed. Nanami was strong, probably a semi-first grade already only in his second year of high school. So at first, Gojo felt bad for a much smaller girl that stood in front of him. Surely that confident smirk on your lips would disappear in a minute or two. Imagine his surprise when you had won that fight, Nanami soon faced flat on the forest floor, bonded by shadows.

For a moment, Satoru was tempted to fight with you to see how long you could stand before losing. Whether you'd lose was not up to question. He was the strongest after all. But he also wasn't as ignorant as he painted himself to be. You would be a refreshing challenge if only he had time for a battle, even a short one. He had to follow the plan and complete the objective. So he left, giving you a last glance over his shoulder, catching your shiny eyes for a second or two.

You wouldn't meet again for many years, until a week after the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. As a first-grade sorceress, you were in the middle of the battlefield when hell broke loose. Dealing with a special curse, with none other than Nanami Kento only a few meters behind your back, having his own fight and taking on a few curses at once. You've met throughout the years, first when he wanted to ask about your technique after the event, later keeping in touch and becoming friends.

Forming shadows into the blades, you send the final blow towards your enemy. You've been fighting for god knows how long already, exorcised dozens of curses, and it felt like you're still far from the end.

“I'll kill Geto myself, I swear. It was supposed to be my time off!” Nanami chuckles hearing you complain. He finished the last curse around and stood next to you for a moment.

“I'm sure Gojo’s taking care of it already.” You nodded and wiped your daggers of a mix created by fluids you didn't even want to list in your head. “I can also bet we're in a slightly better situation than Team Tokyo. Geto’s probably keeping the worst curses near himself.”

“You're doing a great job at encouraging me not to move to Tokyo. Kyoto seems so peaceful compared to your stories, and now this shit happens, and of course, Tokyo is right in the center.” Kento can't help but smile, even as he blocks a curse user attack a moment later, standing back to back with you.

“Isn't that why you're moving to Tokyo after New Year's? More action?” You decided not to answer, focusing back on the fight. Nanami didn't need to know the real reason behind your move. Besides, if everything goes according to your plan, soon you'll be able to forget all about it and enjoy the capital city as you wanted to since childhood.

---

Nothing went according to your plan.

When the elders invited you to a meeting, you expected to see your grandfather and a few others from your clan. Not grandpa, fucking elders of the big three families, and a couple more from clans you couldn't even name.

“Can't believe you're all here to discuss how I'm still single.” Your joke was ignored, rude. Grandpa started the same speech you've already heard hundreds of times. You're an heir, there's a responsibility you need to take and stand up to the expectations, blah blah. What you didn't expect was for the head of the Kamo family, a man probably in his 60s with a long black braid, to speak up.

“I don't think you understand the value of your grandfather's words, y/n y/s. In current times, families like yours, with a long history and such unique techniques, matter more than your humors. That's why, as elders, we all decided what will happen. Either you marry a man from one of the Three Families in the next two years or Yume does it. The choice is yours.”

You could feel your heart stop. In two years? Yume would be barely 16 if they even allowed her to wait for so long. Your sister hasn’t even started high school yet, and they threatened to marry her off? You shot a look of betrayal at your grandfather, but the man sitting there wasn't the same one who taught you basic defense or how to control your cursed energy. You were looking at the head of y/s family, the one who'd do anything to secure the future and position of the name. Even if it cost him his granddaughters. Your heart started beating again, but this time it was powered by anger as you went over options in your head.

But there was nothing you could do to protect both you and your sister. Even if you rebelled, she was under your grandpa's protection and control, you weren't her legal guardian, and she was still in Kyoto. The memory of a lively teenager who blabbered non-stop about how excited she was to start high school soon filled you with almost physical pain. You took a deep breath in, trying to suppress the urge to hurt as many elders in this room as you could before they'd kill you and start choosing a wedding dress for Yume.

“Who am I marrying?”

“I knew you were more reasonable than you pretend to be.” The head of your family, once your grandpa, smiled at you, ignoring the way your face turned in disgust. “We have come to an agreement about securing both y/s and Gojo family lineage by this marriage.”

“Gojo? But... isn't there only one living member?” Your question seemed to amuse some of the elders.

“Yes. You're to marry Gojo Satoru.”

Fucking hell.

---

A few days later you were set to meet with Satoru in a cafe close to Jujutsu High, a place he chose, and when your grandfather asked if you agreed, you simply nodded.

So that's how you ended up sitting with a mug in your hands, eyes fixed on the view behind a wall-tall window. You barely made it on time, but you remembered how many times Nanami complained about Gojo being always late. And apparently meeting his future wife was no exception, you thought when the white-haired man finally stepped into the cafe, looked your way, and first ordered something at the counter before sitting in the chair in front of you. Seeing him open his mouth, you decided to beat him and have the first, and hopefully the last, word.

“I'm not going to become a stay-at-home and cook-the-dinner wife. I'm not giving up my career as a sorceress. And I'm not giving birth to any heirs until I decide to.”

Gojo closed his mouth and was silent for a few seconds. Then he giggled. Giggled.

“Gojo Satoru, nice to meet you too.” He managed to say between laughs and hold his hand out to you. “I know that situation is... inconvenient, but what happened to at least polite introductions?”

You sighed and shook his hand for a second.

“Y/n y/s. You know we've met before, right?”

“Of course. I could never forget a woman who beat Nanamin in less than five minutes. I'm just trying to do this right.” He grinned at you. The situation is shitty, but at least the views are pleasant, you thought to yourself, noticing the dimples in his cheeks.

“With that being said..." Suddenly he got serious, pulled his sunglasses on top of the white hair, and looked into your eyes, hands resting at the table. “I'd never expect anyone to give up their job because of a marital status change. Especially not a sorceress as talented as you, y/n. And I don't expect an heir, at least not now or anytime soon. I want you to understand that I'm not going to force you into anything. The only reason I agreed to this is that I've had enough threats and debates on how I'll keep my clan existing if I can't find a wife. And guessing by your words and evident repulse at the thought of carrying an heir now, you're not exactly doing it to make your dreams come true too.”

You listened carefully to Satoru’s words, and you felt like at least a bit of weight had been lifted from your shoulders. This whole thing could be a lot easier if you're both on the same page.

“It was either me or my younger sister. And I'm not letting these old assholes marry a 14-year-old off to god knows who.” Satoru nodded and leaned back in the chair.

“So, you're moving to Tokyo? Now that you'll have a fiancé here?” He asked, a little smile back on his face.

“Already on the move. Although the apartment I applied for rejected me, apparently single women in their twenties are not the perfect tenants.” You sighed, thinking about your stuff in storage and an uncomfortable hotel bed you've slept in for the past few days. Gojo seemed to be lost in his thoughts for a moment before a waitress pulled him out of it by putting his coffee and a piece of chocolate cake on the table.

“Thanks.” He smiled her way, and poor girl, bless her sweet soul, almost ran away, blushing and giggling.

“How exactly were you unable to find a wife if you just gave this girl a heart attack by just smiling?” The man in front of you almost choked on his salted caramel double sweet cream latte when he heard your question.

“I'm not… It's not like... unimportant." Wiping a drop of liquid from his chin, he grabbed your phone with his free hand, put it in front of your face, and smiled triumphantly when face ID did its job. You were too stunned with his audacity to even ask what he was doing, instead looking as he tapped the screen.

“Here.” Finally, he gave you your phone back, the maps app opened, and an address was saved in it.

“Here…?” You repeated, probably the most confused you've been in your whole life.

“Move in here.”

“Gojo, I swear to god, if you don't explain what you're talking about, I'll lose my mind.” Giggle escaped his mouth, and blue eyes seemed to shine with... you weren't sure with what. Excitement? Mischief? Amusement?

“That's my home. That will be ours anyway when we get married. And knowing the shitheads’ elders are, they'll try to monitor if we're not fucking with them and if we're producing heirs.” You cringed at his word choice, even though he was probably right. “So let's fuck with them for real and act like we're delighted about this situation. They'll leave us alone, and we can always say we're having... issues with making an heir. That's not really something they can verify or control.”

You couldn't believe you were actually thinking about it. As crazy as it sounds, it made sense. Elders had way too much free time, and if they noticed you two not even trying, they'd intervene immediately. But living with Satoru? You just met, and it sounded surreal to even think about. “I have like two spare bedrooms, and with my work, I'm barely home anyway.” He decided to add like he was reading your mind.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

---

And that takes us to the present moment. It’s been a bit over a year since you moved in. Satoru wasn’t lying when he said he was barely home, but during the rare days off, you actually got closer. You probably could say you’re close friends now. You were also two adults working a stressful job, spending most of your free time together, which caused awkward situations from time to time. A glance here and there, a touch that lasts just a second too long to come off as casual, jokes that stopped being jokes at one point, turning to propositions filled with sexual tension instead. But neither you nor Satoru went further with it, brushing it off and changing the topic to something painfully casual.

Satoru thought you were actually making fun of him and his evident crush, while you saw it as a challenge of sorts, wondering how far you could go before he’d make a move or stop you. And ever since Satoru got you a gift and a cake with “Happy Anniversary” on it, exactly a year after you met in the cafe, you got impatient. And bolder in your moves.

You’d accidentally leave your clothes in your room, so, oh no, you need to walk through the entire house wrapped in a towel. Laying your legs over his lap, just a bit too close to his zipper. Insisting on checking on ALL of his wounds if he ever got hurt on the missions (that one happened only maybe two times so far, damn infinity).

“Maybe he just doesn’t like me. You know, like that.” You said one day, sitting with Shoko during her lunch break. You’ve known Ieiri for almost a decade now, you’ve met when she patched you up after an encounter with a special grade curse. She was the only one who knew exactly what your situation looked like.

“I’d have to be blind to believe that. Last week when we went for drinks and you got ready at my place? He almost choked on his own tongue. And he might wear this stupid blindfold or glasses, but it’s easy to guess where he’s looking.” Your friend shook her head and checked the time. “I still think you should make the first move. Better now than in a few years when you actually decide to make an heir. That’d be awkward.”

“God, don’t even say shit like that.”

“Speaking of heirs. How’s Yume?” Ieiri smoothly changed the topic. She loved you, truly, but watching that weird dance between you and Satoru made her regret some life choices.

“Good. I think she likes Tokyo more than Kyoto, and Gojo said she’s getting along with others.”

Yume started school last summer, and after a few months, she asked you if there was any chance of transferring to Tokyo High. She didn’t fit in at Kyoto, and you weren’t exactly surprised. After being around Tokyo school so much in the last year, Kyoto felt like a military camp in comparison. Yume was way too fragile for it, and her moving also meant you’d be around if she needed you. That’s how she ended up here, joining Satoru’s first years.

“Okay. I’ve got to go. I have a mission with Nanami, and he’ll kill me if I’m late.” You got up when your phone vibrated on Ieiri’s desk, a reminder about the meeting with Kento soon bright on the screen. You still wanted to say bye to Yume, something you did before every mission, just in case. You kissed Shoko’s cheek as she wished you good luck and left her office, heading towards the stadium. Chilly March air didn’t exempt the kids from training.

The first thing you’ve noticed when you get there is Satoru lying on the bench, probably taking a much-needed nap. When he came back from a week-long mission two days ago, he barely made it to his bedroom before falling asleep, or maybe passing out, you weren’t sure. Yesterday he spent most of the day sleeping off, only leaving the bed in the evening to eat the dinner you’ve prepared and watch a movie together. From what he told you, he only took a few two- or three-hour naps when he was away, and after a week even his body protested.

“Oh, y/s-san!” Itadori was the first to notice you, your sister, who sat next to him, focused on watching Megumi and Maki spar, abruptly turned, and made her way to you.

“I was wondering if you’d make it before leaving.” Yume said while being pulled into your arms for a hug.

“Sorry, kid. Had lunch with Shoko, and I overlooked the time.”

“How long you’ll be gone?” She asked after you pulled away, letting her breathe properly.

“I don’t know. Probably a few days.” That answer didn’t make your sister any less anxious. She wanted to become a sorceress herself, and she knew it was a dangerous job, but every time you were assigned a mission, Yume wanted to stop you from going.

“Be careful. And text me. And watch out.”

“Oi, mini-y/n, your sister is one of the best first-grade sorceresses, and she’s going with a special grade partner. She’ll be fine.” The teenager frowned when Gojo appeared out of nowhere next to her, and he ruffled her hair. “You’re up next with Nobara. Say bye-bye and go to her before she kills someone.”

Yume got on her toes to kiss your forehead, and without another word, she ran off towards the rest of the students. You sighed and looked at Satoru. He ditched his blindfold for a pair of sunglasses today, something he often did after longer missions, you’ve noticed. His hands were deep in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, the same one you’d sometimes steal from his closet.

“She’s paranoid, but she’s right. Be careful.”

“You’ve said it yourself, first grade and special grade. I’ll be fine.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Mr. Protection, going with you makes me feel a bit better, honestly.” Gojo smiled as you laughed at Nanami’s nickname, but before you could make a joke about it, he leaned forward and left a gentle kiss at the same spot Yume kissed a moment ago.

“Everything’s going to be fine, chill out guys.” You whispered just as Nanami entered the stadium and yelled at you to hurry up. When you turned back to Gojo, he was already back on his bench.

---

Everything went wrong.

That sentence was stuck in your head for the past few hours, when after five long days you were almost back home. Your torso was aching under the warm hoodie, and tight bandages were constantly pushing on sensitive skin, a similar situation on your thigh. Nanami, sitting in the driver’s seat, looked only a bit better, but you knew about a tightly bandaged wound on his chest.

“You’re sure you don’t want Shoko to look at it?” He asked for the hundredth time, and you’d argue about his protectiveness, but exhaustion was taking over.

“I just want to be home already.” Kento only nodded, hearing your tired answer, and the rest of the journey was silent, only soft music playing in the background.

You agreed earlier that he’d drop you off at home and drive to Jujutsu High on his own to report to Yaga and let Shoko patch him up. Maybe in a different order. Half an hour later, you climbed a few steps to the front door and opened it with trembling hands, almost dropping the keys twice. Nanami drove off only after the door closed behind you. It was fairly early in the evening, and guessing by the darkness in every room, Satoru wasn’t home yet. You dropped the duffel bag on the floor, almost falling next to it. Instead, you’ve made your body move to the bathroom and draw a warm bath, something your muscles would thank you for tomorrow.

---

While you tried to relax at least a little bit, Nanami made it to the base and went straight to Shoko’s office. The report could wait a bit longer, his wound that just wouldn’t stop bleeding probably couldn’t.

“Fucking hell, what happened to you?” Ieiri almost dropped a glass when he showed her ripped skin. She quickly got rid of the blood-soaked bandages and asked him to lie down.

“First grade my ass. There were two and one that I’d classify as a special grade.” The blonde man groaned, lowering himself on the bed as slowly as he could.

“How’s y/n?” Before he could answer, the doors opened, and Megumi stepped inside, his teacher right behind him. Fushiguro was holding his arm with the opposite hand, blood dripping down his shirt.

“Shoko, can you fix Megu- Nanamin?” Gojo almost stumbled, noticing the man. He took one look at his wounded chest, and the playful smile he walked in with was gone. “Where’s y/n?”

“Relax, she’s at home. She wasn’t as injured, and the guy in Akita healed the most of it.” Kento said, and before he could explain any further, the white-haired man was already gone. “Knight in a blindfold to the rescue.”

Shoko laughed and signaled Megumi to sit in a chair before focusing on Nanami’s wounds, murmuring something about kids and blindness.

---

You were out of the bath, making a cup of tea in the kitchen. Your body felt a lot better after soaking in warm water, finally out of the tight clothes, opting for an oversized t-shirt instead, fresh bandages on both thigh and torso. Slowly relaxing in the comfort of home, the shirt that smelled like Satoru’s perfume, favorite mug on the counter.

Finally putting your guards down. That’s also why you haven’t noticed an outburst of cursed energy in front of the house, where Satoru warped, since walking or driving would take too long. And after seeing Nanami’s injuries, he needed to see you’re okay.

“Y/n?!” His voice pulled you out of the exhaustion, and before you could even answer, he was already in the doorway, having traced your energy. He took his blindfold off, making slow steps towards you, looking at every millimeter of your body he could see.

“Hi, Toru.” You said, almost shyly, fully aware of his intense stare on your bandaged leg, shirt not doing much to hide it. Finally, his eyes met yours, he took a deep breath in, and you could swear he was about to scold you. He didn’t.

Satoru took one more step your way, and in the blink of an eye, you were sitting on the counter, his warm body between your legs and arms around your back in a gentle embrace. You slowly wrapped your own arms around his neck, feeling him lean his head onto your shoulder.

“What the fuck happened?” He asked quietly. His voice was low and raspy, filled with emotions you couldn’t name properly.

“There were three curses instead of one. But I’m okay, really. Kento took the worst blows on himself.” Your fingers instinctively tangled into snow-white hair, nails gently scratching the skin. You felt how Gojo got tense at first, slowly relaxing. You were safe at home, you weren’t bleeding out, and he was holding your body in his arms. The nerves that filled his mind as soon as he saw Nanami were disappearing with each breath you took close to his ear, each pass of your fingers through soft hair, and every second he spent surrounded by your warmth and scent.

“I almost had a heart attack when I saw Nanami’s wound. All I could think about was if you got a similar one.” Satoru whispered after a few moments. One of his hands was now caressing your back, but he wasn’t sure if it was supposed to calm you or him. Another minute or so later, he gently pulled away, but he was still so close that if you leaned forward, your lips would meet. And Toru seemed to think about it too, his eyes now focused on your lips. “I’ll explain to Yaga why next time if you’re not paired with me, you’re not going.”

“Don’t blame Kento. He saved my life probably more times than I could count on this mission alone.” He smiled softly, like he was amused by what you said.

“I’m not blaming him. He looks like a damn Jigsaw played on his chest, obviously, he did his best.” His forehead leaned onto yours, and you can now feel his lips on yours, gentle touches, almost ghostly, with every word. “But I’m responsible for protecting my future wife. I can do that without getting a cut. So next time you’re taking your fiance with yo-” He didn’t finish. You didn’t let him. Grabbing the collar of his uniform, you barely needed to move to kiss him. And Satoru reacted in less than a second, cupping your cheek with one hand, the other one gently on top of the bandaged thigh.

After a year of thinking, wondering what kissing Satoru would feel like, dreaming about it even, you finally know. And you don’t know what’s with this man, but this feeling—his soft lips on your, tongue slowly exploring your mouth, a gentle bite on your lower lip—was addictive. Just one taste left you hungry for more, mind almost clouded as he pulled away slightly, pulling a quiet moan from you with him. He grinned proudly, looking deep into your glazed eyes, thumb caressing your cheekbone down to the jaw.

“I may rethink this whole producing an heir thing.”

And just like that, the thick mood is gone as you start to laugh, leaning your forehead on Gojo’s collarbone.

“I’m serious. Yaga can’t send you on missions like that one if you’re carrying an heir of not one, but two families.” You shook your head and looked up to him.

“Slow down, Romeo. We kissed after a year of engagement, at least wife me up before talking about any heir.” You joked and pecked his lips one more time.

“Next weekend?”

“Sure, love.”

Only a week later, you realize Satoru wasn’t joking.

[tiredfox64]

Are you comfortable with writing about the reader and Smoke are expecting a child and Smoke is freaking out since it's their first kid as reader goes into labor?

Calm Down! Everything Will Be Okay!

Prior notes: HOW MANY BABIES HAVE I WRITTEN ALREADY?!!!? Got me paranoid. I don’t claim this energy yet.

Pairing: Tomas x Pregnant! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: GIVE BIRTH

How exciting! Your first child with your wonderful husband. A sweet baby girl on the way just ready to melt your heart.

If only your husband Tomas could just relax.

He doesn’t have cold feet, thank goodness. He just wants everything to be perfect and for you and the baby to be safe. The thought of losing you scares him to death. Even though you have been keeping yourself in good health and the doctors said you were in perfect conditions he was still being cautious.

He is baby proofing everything and anything. He has a bunch of books on how to support a pregnancy wife and how to be a good father. He went over birthing plans before the first trimester ended. He wanted to be on top of everything after topping you.

Yes, you were nervous as well. You’re becoming a mother. That is a huge commitment. But you took what knowledge you have gained in life and tried your best to stay steady. Drink some raspberry leaf tea, hum to prevent throwing up, exercise and stretch a little to make labor easier, you have tricks and you will use them. If your mama was able to push you out, you can do the same with that baby girl in your belly. You’re a strong woman, you got this mama!

Your due date is soon and Tomas is about ready to scream.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You sit at the table with Harumi, enjoying your breakfast to the best of your abilities. She’s asking how you’ve been feeling and you tell her the same thing about how your back hurts and your feet are sore.

“Ugh, when is this baby gonna come?” You groaned.

Now, the baby will come now. You manifested it.

In that moment your water broke. You thought you had another accident but then you felt a cramp. No, wait, not a cramp, that’s a contraction. Oh lord that is not pleasant.

Harumi was about to run out but you didn’t want to be alone in that moment. She questioned how you will get help then. Then you started to scream,

“THE BABY IS COMING!”

That message went out and into the ears of the many members of the Shirai Ryu.

“The baby is coming!” Kuai Liang yelled

“The baby is coming!” Hanzo screeched

“Oh my baby is coming…” Tomas, did it click in yet?

“MY BABY IS COMING!” There it is.

Tomas sped towards the room you were in. He picked you up with ease and brought you to your bedroom. You were the one who wanted a home birth, this will be interesting.

Tomas is yelling at everybody. Get some towels, get the doctors, get some ice chips, by the elder gods his wife is in labor!

He’s yelling but you really just want him by your side right now. You kept doing your breathing practices to help with the contractions. But breathing won’t help with the feeling that hell itself is opening inside you. You call for him, begging him to come near.

“Oh my sweetest, it will be okay. Just breathe and I’ll make sure you are well taken care of. WHERE ARE THOSE ICE CH-“

You yanked Tomas by the collar of his uniform which cut off his scream. You appreciate everything he is doing but he can tone it down on the screaming.

“Listen, I know everything will be alright. Just please stay by my side. Don’t leave me at all. I really need your support.” You begged him.

Tomas was looking down at you. You are the love of his life and you are about to push out his child. You’re already sweating and panting. He can see that you need him and you need him to stay calm in this moment.

“Alright. I’ll stay here. I won’t move at all. You got this.” He kisses your hand.

You would have smile if it weren’t for the contraction that hit you like a son of a bitch. Better start cursing like a sailor because that will be the only pain relief you can afford right now.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You are so lucky. So very lucky that you were in labor for only an hour. This could have taken a whole day. But now you have a wonderful baby girl in your arms.

This was the most amazing sight to see for Tomas. Now he has two beautiful girls that he loves in his life. He is so grateful to see you well. You luckily didn’t need stitches down there. Just six weeks of rest and it will feel brand new down there.

“See Tomas, everything turned out fine. If you consider having a fussy girl to be fine.” You chuckled as you tried to calm down your somewhat grumpy baby.

“Yeah, everything is fine. Everything is perfect actually.” He kissed the top of your forehead before taking another look at the baby.

A combination of you and Tomas in a seven pound body. She’s gonna grow up with the best dad in the world. Tomas is imagining all he could do with her and how he’s gonna treat her like a princess.

Kuai Liang, Harumi, and Hanzo came in to congratulate both of you. Tomas entrusted Kuai Liang and Harumi to be your baby’s godparents which they were honored.

Tomas placed the baby in the crib so you can finally rest after that struggle. He starts brushing your hair away from your face before you all heard Hanzo say something.

“Oh she looks so weird.”

“WHAT!” Tomas tells again before running over to the baby’s crib. Kuai Liang and Harumi run as well. There’s nothing wrong with her.

“You’re looking at her upside down.” Kuai Liang said before grabbing Hanzo by the arm and pulling him to the front of the crib.

“Oh yeah you’re right that is a baby.” Hanzo thinks he’s an inspector now.

An exhausted sigh leaves everyone’s lips. That’s enough for the day. Get some rest, Tomas will take care of things while you are out.

After notes: I love that man. I love that man to death. I love maining that man. That man would be a good dad. I’ll make him a dad…BAYBLADE BAYBLADE LET IT RIP. Adiós!

[katyawriteswhump]

midwinter madness (steddie holiday drabble, steddiemas24)

For @steddieholidaydrabbles day 8 prompt, ‘Gift,’ and @whumpcember day 8 prompt, “No, not like this,” and @steddiemas week 1 prompt, “cold.” (Sorry, bit late! I’d got in my head that the week ended Sunday when I crunched the prompts up and wrote this… whoops.)

WC: 983; CW: None. Rating: T. Tags: Omega Steve, Alpha Eddie, historical omegaverse, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, happy ever after. Summary: Steve’s been selected for the ancient ritual of Omega sacrifice. Oh, yay! Fortunately, a rival pack is hunting nearby and plans go awry…

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

“You two met on solstice-eve, right?” asked Dustin, Steve’s most precocious pup. “And you came from another pack, mommy? Tell us the story!”

“Your dad’s the saga-teller.” Steve curled an arm around the pup and sipped his spiced wine, fortifying his sudden jitters. His Alpha continued calmly stirring the cauldron, that festive smile wavering only slightly. “Eddie? Over to you.”

…

Eight years ago.

“No, not like this. He should be more naked.”

“Absolutely not! The Omega will freeze to death before the ritual’s complete.”

Steve was, indeed, shivering his butt off—laid on a slab at the heart of a stone-circle, clad in already obscenely-skimpy robes. Meanwhile, his pack elders squabbled over how to gift him to the Gods.

If Steve hadn’t been bound to the stone, he’d have curled into a terrified ball. Instead, he sniffled quietly. His inner Omega sobbed way louder, tormented by the cold whip of the wind and the angry voices, let alone mortal fear. Gods, he wanted this over. But he was so not ready to die.

The arguing ceased. An eerie chanting commenced. Beneath it, Steve discerned the unmistakable whizz of a knife being sharpened. He tried to struggle, to wrench free his wrists, which were bound firmly above his head.

“Pleeeease,” he screamed, and then, “Screw you! This is so unfair! Not my fault the dumb harvest was a shit-show!”

A blade glinted in the moonlight. He closed his eyes tightly, bracing for the worst, and then…

… shouts, agonised screams.

Not his, though.

Scents bombarded him, including the tang of blood, and of Alphas—unfamiliar ones, and not unappealing. Was he dead already, cast to the Otherworld? That said, his heart still pounded crazily, and those screams sounded a lot like his cowardly village elders.

He ventured to peep, confirming they were being raided by another pack. Oh, yay. Now those knot-heads will kill me instead. Possibly raw hump me first. He’d passed beyond the realm of fear, and prayed he might simply faint from the cold. Then a face filled his vision.

An Alpha. A handsome one at that.

Crap, I must look a total fright.

Steve’s throat proved too raw to plead. Fortunately, instead of ripping said throat out, the gorgeous Alpha brushed warm knuckles down Steve’s tear-soaked cheek.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Gods, how could anybody do this?”

He untied Steve and scooped him into his arms. Steve weakly hugged around his neck, burying his nose in the Alpha’s chest, inhaling a delicious oaky-smoky musk.

If this was the Otherworld, he was totally up for it.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Eddie hugged the Omega to him, praying he’d not die from his ordeal.

In Eddie’s pack, Omegas were cherished, worshipped even. Or would be—none had been born in decades. Then rumors hit of a boy presenting Omega in the Harrington pack. Who, so it appeared, were dumb enough to want to slaughter their most precious member.

Eddie had scented the Omega’s fear miles away. His blood had curdled, his inner Alpha howling. When they’d reached the circle, he’d been thankful none of his pack-mates contested his right to free the Omega. Now, all he cared about was getting his Omega home.

My Omega?

Eddie grimaced. If the boy survived and chose to stay with Eddie’s pack, he’d have his pick of suitors.

Back safe behind his pack’s palisade-wall, Eddie placed the Omega near a roaring hearth, lay down besides, and pulled a fleece over them both. The Omega had turned worryingly limp, skin kinda blue, so Eddie started rubbing and warming him. At length, he tensed beneath Eddie’s touch, eyes fluttering then stretching wide, glittering with firelight, fear… and befuddlement. “Wha… Who… You’re gonna kill me?”

“Never. I swear on the Gods of Metal.” 

The Omega’s jaded sneer was heartbreaking. “Had enough of dumb Gods. You gonna keep me as a slave? Sell me?”

“No!”

“You do wanna hump me, though?”

Yes… but not like this.

With a pang, Eddie stopped touching him. “Please, Sweetheart. I will never take anything you don’t wish to give. But I beg you to let me warm you, or you’ll get very sick.”

The Omega bit his chapped lip, then mumbled, “Screw it. I’m off my head on herbs—no real Alpha is this damn hot.”

“Oh, I’m real, Baby,” cooed Eddie, as the Omega wriggled willingly into his open arms.

The Omega’s formerly scared breaths slowed, and he nestled into Eddie, knee curling nigh-possessively onto Eddie’s hip. Eddie nuzzled the Omega’s soft hair and that tender place near his quivering lifeblood—where his mating gland remained unbroken. Eddie longed to clamp down, pierce and claim. Nevertheless, even if the Omega chose Eddie tomorrow—or next year—there’d be months of courting ahead, to ensure they were compatible.

He caressed the Omega’s cheek, breathing deep as the scent of fear faded, replaced by a surge of summer lavender and apple-blossom. Eddie almost wept with joy. The Omega’s arms curled up around his neck and… Crap, was that really a faint purr?

“My Alpha,” he whispered, before turning utterly pliant, and sleeping soundly in Eddie’s arms till morning.

…

“So, mommy rescued me from the alpha-eating squid-monster,” boomed Eddie, in his best saga-telling voice. “We wed at the summer solstice. It would’ve been happy ever after—”

“—then you little beasties showed up and ruined it!” Steve beamed at his forever-mate. “Talking of which—it’s bedtime, pups! Scram!”

Steve and Eddie variously scooped-up and herded their pups to their cots. As he did so, Steve felt glad Eddie kept the true story back. Though Omega sacrifice was even rarer than love at first sight in these advanced times, there was no need to scare them.

“Ready for another night of happy-ever-after?” whispered Eddie, once they were alone.

“Actually, I’m considering trading you in for an alpha-eating squid-mon—”

Eddie silenced Steve with a longed-for kiss. They warmed their bower by making love, then slept safely in each other’s arms.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

tags: @wheneverfeasible 💚 My stranger things fic on AO3

[lets-try-some-writing]

I wonder what was Mars reaction to humans sending him rovers the first time. i imagine Earth probably warned him in advance that humans planned on sending him something (Sojourner was the first sent if i believe correctly) and he knowing what humans are like prepared for the worst definitely

Mars: I really hope this thing won't infect me with anything..

Sojourner: *beeps*

Mars:

Sojourner:*starts collecting rocks*

Mars:

Moon: Earth asks if you're al- *senses Mars em field*Are you crying??

Mars: *deep in fatherhood*No *he is*

This is adorable and it deserves a mini fic. Enjoy.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Mars always told himself he didn’t mind the solitude. He was near his brother and close enough to Mortus—or rather Pluto—to feel content with himself. Sometimes Halley came to visit, which was always a pleasant surprise. It was not often someone immune to the rust corroding him happened to be both nearby and actually interested in communication. Earth was certainly nice enough, and Mars eagerly awaited her every message when she saw fit to reach out to him or use Moon as a proxy.

Moon. Mars. Pluto. He would never fully adjust to the new names given to them by his brother’s beloved Terra. Personally, he preferred his Cybertronian name, but he would never dare say as such aloud. Mortus didn’t care, and Fengari, his elder brother, would be prone to lash out if Mars ever voiced his objection to his new name. Not only that, but he wasn’t keen on making Terra upset. 

How many vorns had he been in orbit around the Unmaker and the life giving Titan who shielded him? It was hard to keep track without any citizens on his surface to constantly chatter to and about him.

Right. Citizens.

Being in his alternate mode, Mars was incapable of sighing as he wanted to. But as he took control over one of his drones and piloted it to the surface, he let the drone pause and linger on the view. Why had he lived while his wards died? It was not fair. He should have carried them until the very end, bringing them to salvation and away from the fires of Cybertron.

If only there hadn’t been plague. Maybe then he could at least have the chance to take on new citizens and ease the ache in his spark.

No, no. He couldn’t think like that. Contemplating such things almost always led to dark thoughts. It was not allowed. He had to stay calm and composed for Fengari. His poor brother was blind for Prima’s sake. Fengari lost his optics, his citizens, and his ability to take to the stars if he so desired in order to stay with Earth. Fengari suffered more. It was not Mars’s place to weep when he at least had remnants of his people upon his frame in the form of paintwork.

He still had them with him, in his spark and through the echoes they left upon his surface. Sweet Solus, many of their inner habitations were still untouched. He’d ensured it remained that way.

He still had relics. He had echos. He was fine. He had no reason to cry.

Right?

“Primus, our maker... we are so far from you. Can you hear us? Do our sparks still resonate with yours?” He spoke through his drone, letting his voice ring out with only a slight bit of static due to the corrosion of his vessel. He sighed as he received no answer, not that he really expected one. He stared though his drone in silence for a while, the quiet of the void all but deafening.

If he listened closely with his real body, he could hear the faint song of stars, the thrum of their very being radiating nearby. Earth’s Star had quite the pleasant melody. Enough for him to fall into recharge.

But he couldn’t allow that. If he slumbered, he may not wake. Instead, he endured the silence, the isolation. Perhaps Mortus would be kind enough to come and pay him a visit during one of his patrols. 

‘Mars? I have news.’

He stalled for a moment as waves of emotion crashed against him. Mars had to pause to translate the EM field communication he found himself assaulted with. Young Terra was not the most educated in matters of gentle or polite correspondence, but she could most certainly be heard.

‘Earth, it is  a pleasure to hear from you. What news do you have for me?’

He tried to keep his communication controlled and neutral. But as he sent back a response, he sensed something coming near to him. It had been heading in his direction for a while, but for the longest time he’d simply assumed it to be space debris. Looking more closely, it appeared to be some kind of device.

‘My children have created a drone of sorts. They are sending it to your surface to analyze you. Do not fear; the drone appears to be insignificant and designed purely for observation. I simply wished to warn you.’ 

Mars almost stiffened, but he forced himself to relax so that his surface would not shift as the thing drew closer. Without a second thought, he moved his drone as far from the potential landing site as he could get without losing track of this incoming drone that was apparently headed his way. He forgot to send a reply for a long while as he watched the thing draw ever nearer.

Earth’s humans were such deadly and destructive beings when they were left unchecked. Mars had witnessed the horrors himself when he watched them drop bombs all over poor Terra’s surface. Even now, the wounds still brought her pain from time to time. 

What would happen if her humans found him to be of use for some grand scheme? Would they harm him too? Mars was a Titan; he could survive if he had to. But he would rather not expose himself and, consequently, his kin to Earth’s destructive little scraplet farm. Why she loved them so dearly was beyond him.

‘Thank you for the warning.’ 

He eventually sent back curtly as he watched the drone finally land on his surface. It felt so very strange to have a new entity roaming his frame. Halley rarely landed, and when she did, her very frame eliminated warmth like a young star barely contained within living metal. This thing was cold, but not necessarily in a wicked sense. It seemed... almost like a protoform, yet lacking a spark. The emotions were familiar, the feeling of potential almost overwhelming.

Mars stared through his drone, his very spark flaring in its chamber as ancient desire rose within him. The drone was tiny, barely the size of the smallest newsparks that he had nurtured before the fires of Cybertron. And yet, as he looked upon the small wheeled entity roaming and prodding at rocks and pebbles like they were the most interesting thing on this side of the galaxy, Mars, or rather, Bellum’s spark, swelled with love.

The ache that had long burned within his core seared as he gazed upon the youth of the small thing roaming his surface. So small. So pure. So full of potential. 

Ancient coding sang within him, and before Bellum knew it, his drone moved just a bit closer, although still out of view. This one did not appear to be affected by the rust of his surface. It roamed freely, without a care in the world. Such innocence… Bellum needed to guard it.

Had Earth’s humans sent him this little gift out of kindness? No. They couldn’t have. They did not know he lived. And yet, he couldn’t help the way every part of his processors screamed at him to accept the offering. Such things were done for the sake of an alliance between Titans back on Cybertron. Old habits died hard, and Bellum could hardly contain himself as he fought the urge to have his drone snatch the Earth-born drone and drag it toward his core so he could connect to it intimately.

He couldn’t expose himself. Not yet. But Bellum was a patient being. Let the humans explore through their gift. His scans indicated that the poor drone wouldn’t last more than a few years without maintenance. He would wait until the humans abandoned it, and then, when all was done, he would finally have a chance to serve his purpose once more.

“Sweet little roamer, do not fear. You may not understand now, but soon, when your creators have let you fly away from them, I will take you under my wing.” He all but purred, keeping his vocalizations below the range of the drone as he observed it. 

“You will not know fear. You will suffer no illness. I will give you a spark, and when the time is right, I will make you into something more.” His spark flared in affection as the tiny Earth-born gathered rocks, observing and producing soft sounds of affirmation as it went. What a lovely voice it would have once Bellum granted it a spark. 

He could hardly wait.

‘Mars, are you in distress?’ 

Fengari, Moon, whatever designation he went by, sent a message that snapped Mars back to attention. Only after he refocused did he realize he’d been sending out waves upon waves of countless emotions in short, and likely unsetting bursts. His brother’s concerns made sense now.

‘I am perfectly fine, brother. In fact, I feel better than I have in millennia.’

Confusion met Mars’s response. He didn’t pay it much mind as he continued to observe the drone upon his surface. It was just so small. 

‘Let Terra know that so long as more of these drones are sent to me, she shall have my full allegiance.’ 

Shock met him this time, but Mars merely hummed. He had something to hope for now, and he had no intention of missing a single moment of his new firstborn’s life. He would have to get his visual images printed at some point for the little one to see once they developed mentally.

“Explore to your spark’s content, sweet roamer. I shall wait for you.” Mars felt his frame ease and a faint song escape his true vocalizer as he watched the small drone pick up a rock and stare at it.

Soon. Soon he would be a Sire again.

[sorceresssundries]

Every Shade of Sunlight

This is a BG3 anniversary gift for my friend @mercymaker <3

Pairing: Astarion/Maleane (m/f) - SFW

Word Count: 2k

Summary: It is the last night before the group go to face the elder brain, and Maleane takes Astarion to watch the sunset for possibly the final time.

"Darling, as much as I appreciate a little rough and tumble down a dirty alley, you’ve been dragging me through the city for quite a while now. Is there a specific dirty alley you had in mind? Or, did you just get sick of camp? Not that I blame you, my sweet. Gale has been particularly irritating this evening.” 

“Perhaps he's just trying to squeeze out as many words as possible in our last few hours together?” Maleane replied, her eyes scanning the shadows diligently.

Astarion sighed. “Sometimes, I’m glad he hasn’t decided to blow himself up. Other times, I regret not persuading him to do it sooner. He is frightfully repetitive.”

Maleane rolled her eyes, and could feel her lover’s greedy gaze on her as she strolled through the hidden alley which ran through the bowels of Grey Harbour. She was trying very hard not to be distracted; she had a careful, precise, time-sensitive plan. If Astarion didn’t stop brushing his hand over hers or making suggestive comments, she would definitely end up fucking him in a dirty alley. That wasn’t what she had planned... at least not right now.

“Aha!” She turned to him with a grin and pointed to a dank, well-hidden ladder that looked so rotted one step might turn it to mulch.

He looked highly unimpressed. “Unless that ladder leads to a cultist to kill and a heavy treasure chest to break into, I think I’ll stay down here.” he sneered.

“It leads somewhere much better than that. Trust me.”

He raised an eyebrow, sceptical. “Better than murder and treasure? This sounds like a trap.”

She grabbed the ladder with confidence despite its decrepit appearance. “You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

With a wary glance, Astarion followed her up the ladder, his usual swagger slightly tempered with caution. 

At the top, Maleane clambered onto a ledge and over a small railing to a tucked-away rooftop. The last light of the day bathed the space in a warm, golden glow, and the scent of blooming flowers filled the air. The rooftop was modest, nowhere near as spacious as Alfira and Lakrissa’s haven atop the Elfsong. This one was dingy, with weathered stone tiles underfoot and the faint remnants of old paint on the wall of the larger building that towered next to them. However, Maleane had done her best to breathe a little life into it.

A variety of plants, from hardy ferns to flowering vines, were strategically placed around the space, creating pockets of greenery and bursts of colour. Comfortable cushions, covered in bright but slightly faded fabrics, were scattered about, arranged on a couple of old wooden crates repurposed as makeshift seating. In one corner, a small wrought-iron table, a bit rusty but still sturdy, held a collection of candles in different shapes and sizes and a bottle of expensive wine

“This… this is unexpected.” Astarion turned to her, surprised.

“Don’t get too moony-eyed,” she teased. “I stole it all.”

“Well, then I'm even more impressed.”

“Come on. Sit.” Maleane gestured towards the makeshift bench while she poured out a glass of wine for them. 

Together they sat, and spoke, and sipped their wine. Maleane resting her head on her lover’s shoulder as they watched the sun set on their final day with parasites in their heads. Tomorrow, one way or another, Astarion would no longer be able to bask in the light he had become accustomed to. It pained her. 

The view from the rooftop was nothing short of spectacular. The Chionthar stretched out below, glowing with shades of gold and crimson. The sounds of the bustling city were muted, a low background hum—ambient sounds for the two lovers on a rooftop in the city they were trying to save. 

“As delightful as your company is, it feels like you’ve brought me here for a reason, my love. Or are you just feeling sentimental?”

“Show a little patience, you’ll see.”

“Darling, I was a slave for almost two hundred years. Patience is the only thing I've ever had.”

She nudged him with her elbow, and nodded her head back towards the sunset. “Watch.”

He sighed dramatically, then quieted, watching as the sun he loved almost as much as her began to sink below the horizon. The shimmer of yellow, soft and tired after a long day, was slowly being dragged away. Astarion stared at it with barely concealed longing, all his usual bluster and facade dropped. He observed the sunset the way one would watch their lover walk out the door for the final time.

Maleane, however, only watched him as light muted and the shadow of dusk fell over his face, turning his eyes from shining scarlet to a deeper maroon—so much deeper they could almost be mistaken for brown. His skin looked less pale, his fangs hidden beneath the straight line of his lips. He looked the way she imagined he did when he was alive.

She often wondered what he was like in those days, when he was young and human and fragile. Did he ever steal bottles of wine and sneak away to hidden rooftops in the city he lived and loved in? What did he look like, smell like, sound like? Maybe his words used to sound different slipping off a tongue that wasn’t silken and practiced. Perhaps his vowels were rounder, his accent softer, uncut by the sharp points of his teeth. 

Maybe he was an entirely different person, or perhaps he was exactly the same. Maleane would never know, and Astarion would never remember.

She grieved for the person he was before, loved him for who he was in this moment, and steeled herself to protect the person he would become. No one stayed the same; everyone was as changing as the seasons, and contained as many colours and streaks as the sunburst sky. Her heart ached as he mourned the death of the day, the final one he would possibly ever see. Then, his expression shifted. He looked confused.

Maleane smiled and tore her gaze from him to follow where his eyes were fixed.

Right there, in the day’s final moments, when only the very top of the sun was visible - it turned green. Just for a few magical, unexplainable moments, a vibrant, clear flash of the brightest emerald. And then, it was gone.

“Did you see that?” His disbelief reminded her of a child watching snow fall for the first time.

Maleane hummed in contentment and put her hand over his. “Sometimes, when the sky is clear and the weather is right, just in the final moments before the sun disappears - it turns green.”

“Why?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, I'm sure there’s some long, boring explanation that Gale could tell us about. It’s supposed to be a sign of luck, a good omen.”

“How did you know it would happen?”

“I didn’t. I hoped.” She sighed as his cool thumb brushed over her knuckles. “I used to watch out for it when I was a child. Most people don’t even see it. They sit under the sun every day and never know all its colours. Lives are lived and days are long and no one stops to see the sun turn green.” His eyes are fixed upon her now, the sun long forgotten. “I wanted to show you every shade of sunlight. Gods knows how long it will be before you see it again.”

“If I ever do.” His voice was weaker than she had ever heard it. 

“You will.” Hers was made of iron.

They sat there for a while, the two of them, as the orange and purples and reds of the sunset stained sky melted away into inky blue. The light followed the sun below the line of the horizon, where it sat and patiently waited for tomorrow. Who knows what it would cast itself over the next time it appeared. 

Dawn could clutch at the burnt-out corpse of Baldur’s Gate in the morning like a grief-wrecked parent, and wake the birds to sing songs of sorrow. Or… it could raise its arms in celebration, light up the homes of the saved and slip through the stained glass of still-standing temples and cast colour across stone floors. Shimmering through the tears of grateful worshippers which would stain the feet of the Gods, making their worship look like diamonds.

The Gods didn’t deserve their tears. It would not be the Gods that saved them, Maleane thought bitterly. It would be up to her small group of misfits and outcasts. The chosen and the cast-aside. The faithless and the faithful. The tortured vampire and the lost girl from the woods.

No-one would thank Astarion. The gratitude of the morning sun would not reach him. He would slink, shadowed and unrewarded, once again back into the darkness. He would not be alone though, Maleane would make sure of that. 

“Have you ever been up here before?” Maleane asked, It was strange to imagine Astarion as a young man. Just one of the people she had seen settled and happy in the routine of their day in the city. It was a heartbreak to think about how she was so grateful to have found him, and yet the only reason he was in her life was because he had been killed, dragged back from death, and mistreated so poorly.

“Who knows darling.” He sighed. “I don’t remember much, only blurred faces and whispered names. I distanced myself too much to remember particular details. I don’t even know who I was, let alone where I've been.”

He took a long sip of his wine and became lost in clouded thoughts. 

“I’ve been a victim, and I've been a monster, and, ridiculously, some kind of hero. I don’t know who I really am, or which one I'll be when all this is over and I have to deal with normality” He pulled a face as though he'd just bitten something sour. 

“All of them.” She said, simply.  “You’re a person.” She touched his face, cool and perfect. Brushes her fingers down and along the chest that has no rise and fall to it. “Full of burnt orange, and flashes of scarlet, and a yellow so blinding it could be pure white. And also, in rare little moments right before darkness - flashes of green.”

“You’re very sweet.” He lifted her hand to kiss it  “Nothing at all like the angry little forest sprite I first pressed my blade to.” He teased, and flashed his pointy teeth in a genuine smile. 

“What can I say, turns out the threat of ceremorphosis, being thrown into a group of strangers, lifting curses, slaying dragons and becoming the partner of a vampire will change a girl.”

He gifted her with some of his sparkling laughter, a sound so sweet and imperfect a monster would never be able to make it. “Partner,” he said, clinking her wine glass with his own. “I like that.”

Their last peaceful moment was abruptly shattered by another shuddering quake from the elder brain, barely contained and thrumming with anxious, threatened energy, awaiting their arrival. 

“This was wonderful while it lasted, darling,” he sighed, rising and extending his hand to her. “But I guess nothing lasts forever.”

She gazed at him, pale and ethereal, bathed in fresh moonlight.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Maleane replied, as her fingers entwined with his. “Let’s wait and see.”

He kissed her then, beneath the warm blanket of dusk, with the fervour of a man gasping for air, for life, for her. She knew that no matter what came next, even if it meant centuries in the shadows, she would stay by his side.

She would be his light, his mirror, and the home he could always return to.

“Please don’t kiss me like it’s our last night,” she murmured softly, a trace of anxiety creeping in for the uncertain hours ahead.

He smiled against her lips. “My love, I’m kissing you like it’s our first.”

[chairofchaos]

When the Blood Burns

Blood (Part 1)

Burns (Part 2)

Pairing: Azriel x Eris

Summary: Azriel and Eris find themselves drawn together during the first war with Hybern. (Requested here)

Rating: Explicit (see warnings- I mean it. I can give details in DMs if you want specifics before reading)

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: violence, homophobia/homophobic violence (if you want details my DMs are open), graphic depictions of wounds and wound care with a very rudimentary understanding of the subject, alcohol use, and much less important than the others but still concerning: unedited.

A/N: Shoutout to @tsunami-of-tears for once again providing me with the perfect divider for this fic. Shoutout to @unanswered-stars forgiving me permission to do whatever I want with this request. And please know I tried to make it short. But now it's almost 10k so this is part 1 of 2. Maybe 3.

Their first meeting was unremarkable. Azriel, blinded with rage over Eris’ rejection of Mor and the ensuing pain it had caused his family, thought nothing of the young lord other than how callous he had been, and avoided him under the orders of his High Lord.

So the first time they had truly met was in a war tent five years and seven months into the war with Hybern. Eris stood with his elder brother behind Beron’s seat at the round table. Rhys and Azriel stood shoulder to shoulder behind Rhys’ father. When the High Lords had dismissed their advisors for a recess in planning, somehow only Eris and Azriel found themselves walking outside. 

They were silent. Azriel scanned the passing troops for any sign of Cassian. It had been three weeks since either he or Rhys had seen him, but there was a chance, stationed here near the western battle grounds, that they would encounter him. Still, even Azriel’s shadows hadn’t been able to locate his brother. 

The shadows' presence was thin. There were only so many he could task, only so many he could control. Only a fraction of his usual cloud of shades stayed with him. Still, they whispered to him. 

“The Autumn lord watches you,” they hissed. They seemed less concerned than intrigued. It wasn’t often people stared directly at him, and yet when Azriel turned his head, the lordling was staring, openly and with no concern.

“Can I help you?”

Eris shrugged evenly. His face was impassive, but he either didn’t know or didn’t care Azriel would notice the shuffle of his feet. “No.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “And yet, you have something you want to say.”

Eris’ lips pinched, his eyes darting to the tent entrance. “You have less shadows this time.”

“Yes.”

Eris waited, but Azriel was more patient and well aware that the Lord just wanted him to speak. Finally, Eris sighed. “Are you… well?”

Well? Azriel was… oh. He dared a glare. The lord was nosy. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“You have less shadows. That isn’t a symptom of something being wrong?”

“No. It’s a symptom of being at war.”

“Ah,” the lord breathed. “That’s… good.”

Azriel didn't bother to respond before he turned and walked back into the tent. Such an odd male.

Two months passed before they crossed paths again. Azriel had shadow-walked to take a message from his High Lord to the High Lord of Winter. Rhys had been sent away as well. There was little to lure him back, so he would take advantage of the distance between the two encampments to take a night away. It was already after dark. He could safely return in the morning with no one noticing.

Once he retrieved the paper with the instructions, he walked the encampment shrouded in shadows. Here, Winter and Autumn soldiers did not mingle. In fact, the road Azriel walked through the camp was so stark a dividing line he found himself all alone. Except…

“Oof!”

A figure had darted awkwardly from behind a Winter tent. They were looking over their shoulder, and had plowed straight into Azriel. 

Azriel snarled, wings flaring behind him to keep himself righted as the figure fell at his feet.

“Watch where you’re going,” he growled, stepping back. His hand instinctively rested on Truth Teller’s handle while he glared at the figure. The road was so dark he couldn’t even see the insignia on the soldier’s tunic.

“I- My apologies.” It took Azriel the time it took for the male to scramble to his feet to place the voice.

“Vanserra?”

“Shadowsinger,” was the response. It was curt in a way Eris’ attempts at conversation hadn’t been previously. Yet this time, Azriel’s shadows said nothing.

“You really should watch where you’re going.”

“I know,” Eris snapped.

“Snippy tonight, aren’t we?” He had been moving quickly, and yet was no longer rushing. It was odd enough for Azriel to order shadows to examine him. It was dark, so it was easy for them to go unnoticed. 

“Do I owe you courtesy?” was the bitter response.

“You crashed into me.” His shadows slithered about his ears, talking over one another.

“And I apologized.”

It was then that the shadows’ one-word report made sense. Blood. There was blood gushing from the male’s body. When he paused, Azriel could smell the metallic tang from Eris’ general direction, distinct from the days old blood scent of the camp around them. It was enough to send his shadows into a vague fury, as if they couldn’t decide whether this was something to be concerned about given who the male in question was. 

Eris waited, standing there in complete stillness. 

“You’re injured,” Azriel finally settled on. 

Eris snorted. “And? So is everyone.”

“It isn’t a war wound. This camp has not seen battle in over a week and that wound is fresh.”

“Does it matter?” Eris snapped. “I don’t know why you bother to bring it up at all.”

Azriel took a deep breath. “Because if you’re fighting next to my brother your injury could get him killed. I know you haven’t seen much battle, but from what I’ve heard your father is doing everything he can to keep you on the front lines to get you killed. I’d rather not give him the satisfaction if it means my brother dies.”

Autumn and Night court soldiers had been fighting alongside each other frequently. With Winter replacing Night Court forces in this camp, chances were dwindling, but it wasn’t a risk Azriel was willing to take.

Eris tried a new tactic: complete silence. Still, Azriel saw his silhouette cross his arms defensively. It was a bad move. His hands were pinned where they were, and he was already off balance. Azriel took the opportunity to reach a hand out and shove the male’s shoulder with a moderate amount of force.

Eris’ sharp intake of breath gave Azriel more pause than he expected. “I’ll tend your wound,” Azriel said gruffly. “I refuse to let you get killed over some stupid fight with a soldier from another court.”

Still, Eris didn’t move. 

“You can walk, can’t you? You were doing fine when you ran into me.”

“I’m fine,” Eris bit out. “Leave.”

Azriel snorted. Now he definitely wouldn’t leave the male alone. “No. You’re in more danger like that than you know.”

“And what would you know of it?” Eris all but hissed at him, arms uncrossing to clench against his sides. “You don’t scare me.”

“I should,” Azriel snapped back. “I should terrify you. I could have killed you about thirty different ways in the course of this conversation.”

“You’re not touching my– wound.” Eris’ voice broke. 

“You aren’t tending it yourself.”

“I’ll go to a healer.”

“No,” Azriel shook his head. “You won’t. Because if your father finds out he’ll use it to his advantage. Why does he hate you so much?”

“I can handle it myself,” Eris’ voice was losing all conviction and confidence. 

“No.”

“Leave.”

“I trust you know somewhere safe enough. I’ll get the supplies and meet you there. A shadow will tell me where you end up, or I can winnow us there.”

That seemed to give Eris pause. “I thought shadowsingers did something called shadow-walking.”

Azriel balked. It was rare anyone bothered to know the difference, let alone remark on it. He nodded, then remembered the male likely couldn’t see him. He cleared his throat before saying, “Yes.”

“Can we shadow-walk?” Now, the lord just sounded tired.

“Yes. Where are we going?”

“North of camp, there’s a glade.”

“It’s safe?”

“Yes.” Eris reached his right hand out.

Azriel gripped the male’s wrist roughly with his own right hand, binding their hands together with shadows who seemed all too eager. “Don’t let go,” he warned. 

“I won’t.”

A blink and a breath of complete darkness followed before they arrived in the clearing, which Azriel’s shadows had found quickly. A small fire was reduced near to ashes in the center of the glade, but it was more light than the road had held. Eris moved to drop Azriel’s hand, but the shadowsinger shook his head, motioning for the lord to stay silent and wait.

The shadows not binding them together scattered, darting around the trees at the outskirts and winding back to Azriel once they had cleared the area and confirmed its safety. “Safe. Safe. Safe,” was their chorus, one after the other. 

When Azriel was satisfied, he sent a third of them for supplies, tasking another third to unroll the lord’s bedroll, which they had found tucked in an oak, next to the fire. Dropping Eris’ hand, he crossed to a small pile of wood at the edge of the glade and collected half of it to bank the fire. Eris stayed where he was, watching silently. 

“Come sit,” Azriel ordered, pointing to the bedroll as he squatted to blow at the cinders and coals and encourage what little flame was left to grow, to light the new wood and give them more light and heat. Eris made no move to help him, so Azriel didn’t bother to ask. 

With the increasing light, Azriel could see the dark gleaming of what had to be blood down Eris’ thigh as he walked. There was a lot. The side of his leg was saturated to the top of his boot, while the wound seemed to originate near his hip bone. It had to be nasty for Eris to be bleeding that much. That explained why he hadn’t offered to help with the fire, or, better yet, to feed the fire himself with his power. Yet, he walked. 

That took strength. Azriel almost found it in himself to be impressed as the male lowered himself gracefully to the ground. 

His shadows had begun piling bandages and other important things by Azriel’s side. He sent one of them off in pursuit of a new pair of pants for the lord, who wouldn’t be wearing this pair again without an excellent laundress, and those who could keep secrets were in short supply in a war camp when information was money.

“Take your pants off,” Azriel commanded. Eris winced.

“I’m not sure I can.”

“I'll have to cut them off.”

Eris hesitated, his eyes darting to Truth Teller. “Be careful.”

How badly hurt was he, that he would allow Azriel to have a knife that close to his skin, to vital blood supply? 

As the light increased, so did Azriel’s concern that the male’s condition may not be as stable as he originally thought. His skin seemed to pale more and more with every flare of the fire. Sweat dripped from his brow, despite the chilly night around them. And he was obedient. Vanserras, in Azriel's admittedly limited experience, were never obedient. Certainly not to orders given from a Night Court grunt.

As if they sensed his growing concern, shadows dispatched to scan the male again. They returned with whispers of blood and wounds– multiple. Azriel nearly sighed. This was perhaps a bigger job than he anticipated. He sent shadows now to retrieve his own bedroll and bag. He’d be damned if the last thing anyone saw before the autumn lord died was the two of them together, and there was no real way to guarantee he hadn’t been seen with Eris on that road. Damn it all.

“How many wounds are there?” he asked, unsheathing Truth-Teller and setting the supplies beside Eris.

“Just the one.”

“Don’t lie to me. If you die, it’s my wings they’ll come after.”

Eris glanced over Azriel’s shoulder at the reddish membranes which were his constant companion, his pride and joy.

“Three.”

“Only three?”

“Only three,” Eris confirmed.

“Where?”

Eris gestured at his right shoulder, waved a hand over his injured leg, and then looked away.

“That’s two,” Azriel commented. “You’re going to need to take that tunic off, too, but let’s start with your leg.”

Eris laid back. Azriel reached into his boot to retrieve a flask and offer it up. “Whiskey. It’ll take the sting off.”

Eris grimaced, but took the flask anyways, draining what was left of the alcohol from it before handing it back. 

Azriel knelt at his side, the fire on Eris’ other side giving him light to work. Truth Teller made quick work of a cut through Eris’ pants from ankle to waist, and Azriel sheathed the blade quickly. When he removed the fabric a barrier which had begun to form to protect the wound would be removed, and he needed to know everything he could before that happened.

“What blade was used?”

Eris blinked at him slowly. He was fading, fast. “A dagger.”

“Was it poisoned?”

“No,” Eris shook his head with conviction.

“Was there anything special about the blade?”

“Standard Winter court issue,” he said. 

Azriel nodded. “Alright. This is going to hurt.”

Eris paused, looking at Azriel, then turning his head to the fire. Azriel barely heard the quiet “I know” which followed.

Azriel pulled the fabric of the male’s pants away from him and grimaced. Eris didn't even flinch. The cut went across the male’s hipbone nearly twelve inches to the outside of his upper thigh, getting deeper as if Eris had rolled into the knife to protect his midline.

“Tell me what happened,” Azriel ordered as his hands began to move. Damn it all, they were cold. And tired. He was so tired. But he couldn’t let Eris die. For some reason, he needed the male to live.

“No.” Eris countered with a fire he hadn’t shown all evening. It was the first anger Azriel had heard from the male, and it awoke something in him. He dumped three antiseptic potions across the wound. Eris barely moved, blinking up at the stars.

“You could die,” Azriel snarled, pressing bandages against the seeping wound. “Why? You are the son of a high lord. If it was a standard issue Winter court blade it likely wasn't anybody of your status. Why protect them?”

Eris bit his lower lip. Azriel pulled Truth Teller out to cut through what was left of the male’s pants and underwear and remove them. A long strip of fabric wound around the male’s waist, then around his upper thigh, to secure the padding of bandages against the long wound. When Azriel was certain the bands wouldn’t move, he tied them off in a quick knot and looked up at the lord’s face. 

His eyes were closed, his face turned slightly toward the fire. He looked slightly flushed, and yet entirely too pale. His breathing was shallow. He needed water. Food, too. He didn’t seem to be interested in answering any more questions. Maybe those things would loosen his lips.

First, the other wounds. The removal of all his clothing revealed a gash along his shoulder, about four inches long. It wasn’t deep, but it was angled, and the skin could be folded back away from the wound. Azriel stitched that one with quick stitches. He would have stitched the large one, but without any indication that it wouldn’t get infected, he was unsure about closing it with the sutures which would solidify by the time the horizon had light on it. An infection growing beneath the skin was much worse than a scar from skin knitting itself back together.

The last wound didn’t immediately present itself, so Azriel had nudged Eris until he grudgingly rolled onto his side.

His bare back was a maze of scars. Azriel was struck immediately by how well his hands blended with the mottled skin of Eris’ back, burns seemingly crisscrossed by the stripes of what had to have been made by a very long, thick whip. It turned his stomach to see just how broken the male’s back was. They weren’t that different in age, and Azriel had his fair share of scars. But this was a level of brutality Azriel hadn’t expected to find carved into the male’s skin. It was no doubt he hadn’t flinched at the stitches, or even the bandaging. He had to be intimately familiar with both.

One wound on his back, a long stripe across his shoulder blade, was red and struggling to close. Azriel stitched that closed, too, before throwing the bandages he had used to wipe the male’s blood away into the fire. Seeming to know it was over, Eris rolled back onto his back. He didn’t open his eyes, but his breathing seemed slightly steadier.

Azriel grabbed his bag from where the shadows had dumped it unceremoniously behind him and retrieved a tin of dried meat and crackers.

“Eat,” he ordered, setting the tin on Vanserra's stomach. “I’m getting us water.”

Eris cracked an eye open to stare at him. “Fine.”

Azriel ordered some shadows to scout ahead for water, and some to watch over the lordling, as he unrolled his own bedroll next to Eris. Better to have the fire lord between him and the fire, he told himself.

His shadows returned with a satisfactory report, so he went when he was certain Eris would eat more than a bite or two.

On his return, the container sat on his bedroll, half the food gone.

“You should eat more,” Azriel said, nudging it towards him. 

Eris shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“Drink, then,” he tried. Eris nodded, reaching a reluctant hand to grip the offered bottle.

He propped himself up on an elbow to drink, and swallowed until he finished the whole bottle with a gasp. “Thank you.”

Azriel nodded. He felt as though he hovered over the lord, but he found himself unsettled. “I’ll take the watch.”

Eris didn’t argue or say they didn’t need one. It would have been a lie neither of them would have accepted. He just nodded, dropping his head back and closing his eyes again.

Azriel didn’t bother to wake him through the rest of the night. When light began to peek over the horizon, Eris stirred on his own, sitting up with a groan and a stretch. 

“Thank you,” he said again. 

Azriel nodded. “I need to check your–”

“No,” Eris said abruptly, sitting. “Enough. I will go back to camp, and so should you.”

Azriel shook his head. “You can’t fight like this.”

Eris smirked up at him. “I’ve done it before.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Azriel narrowed his eyes.

Eris shrugged, shuffling awkwardly until he was on his feet, even though he panted. “That’s fine.”

“I just spent last night putting you back together. If I hear you undo that work, I’ll kill you,” Azriel protested. Eris seemed to soften at that. “I think you should go.”

Azriel bristled even as his shadows obeyed his silent order to retrieve all his things. “Fine.”

“I’ll burn away any trace of you being here,” Eris assured him, waving a hand at his bedroll. It disappeared.

Azriel nodded. “Check those wounds this morning.”

Eris nodded. “I will.”

When Azriel had his bag and bedroll in hand, he shadow-walked away, Eris not sparing him more than a moment’s glance as he disappeared from view.

Their third meeting was much like the first. Outside a war tent, the Autumn court delegation lingered in hushed circles. Their forces had been hit hard in the last of Hybern’s offensives. No doubt they were reconsidering their participation in the ongoing war, if only to save the rest of their soldiers. Still, from the thick of the fray strode Eris Vanserra, his gait no less even than it had been the first times Azriel had seen him.

Azriel couldn’t help but watch him as he stood outside the tent. They had tightened the circle allowed in. The recent losses had been too stark to eliminate the possibility that someone on the council or one of their advisors was selling information or even was an agent of Hybern. It was no doubt that fact which kept the sons close, and everyone else at a very great distance. Still, Azriel could watch from here. Could keep an eye out for either of his brothers. 

Shadows told him nothing of them. Their names were not on the rolls. But here was Eris. Alive, breathing. He would have known if Eris had died. And Eris had not.

“Shadowsinger,” a curt acknowledgement. Azriel nodded firmly in return. No words could explain his relief, even to himself. Eris rolled his shoulders, his embroidered coat restricting his motions. Instead of walking past Azriel, the lord stopped at his side.

“Thank you,” Eris murmured. If Azriel hadn’t been attuned to the male's presence, he wouldn’t have heard it at all. It was dangerous to speak this openly. Eris had to know that. Surely, a High Lord’s son would know that speaking to the spymaster of another court was dangerous. Surely.

Azriel turned to walk away. He would not risk it, but Eris still tried. “Azriel.”

He spun to face Eris, schooling his face into an angry mask. “What?”

Eris’ eyes flashed with an answering anger, then cooled. “I saw your brother. The soldier.”

This was unexpected. Azriel’s eyes narrowed. How would Eris know he searched for his brothers?

As if anticipating the question, Eris stepped closer. “Your shadows, the ones who stayed, told me. I asked them how I could… repay you. They told me. He’s in the next camp over. Injured, but not badly. Ask for Madja.”

Shadows zipped away from Azriel faster than he could respond. He had left some of them with Eris that morning to ensure the male checked and cleaned his wounds.

Now, Eris watched them go, nodding once, then walking on past Azriel. Eris knew what it meant to see those shadows go out. It was all he had needed to see. 

Azriel may not be able to get away on his own, but he could send those shadows. They would find Cassian, who would recognize them and maybe even be able to get away for a day. 

More pressing was that the shadows had spoken to Eris. Had deemed him worthy of information about Azriel. That happened so rarely. Only when Azriel was truly in need of something, or on the rarest of occasions, when he was in true danger, would his shadows bother to try to communicate with anyone. Never before had they shared with someone as nonsensical as Eris Vanserra. He would ask them later why. He hoped they would tell him.

Someone was calling his name. It was the middle of the night, and his shadows were rousing him from sleep with a frantic energy. Months had passed since he had seen Cassian, or Rhys. He had only just gotten back from a scouting mission in Hybern that evening. The war still raged, still slowly marching them all toward death. 

But someone was calling his name. “Hurry,” his shadows urged him. “Fight.” 

The second prompt was enough to speed him. He rarely slept without weapons at hand, and he grabbed two Illyrian blades and strapped them to his back with the speed of a soldier who had been at war for over six years. 

Finally ready, he ordered his shadows to take him where they willed. Emerging from their total darkness into the moonless night with Truth Teller clenched in his hand, he found himself at the edge of that familiar glade. 

This time, it was anything but peaceful. Eris fought against three warriors dressed in dark clothes, their faces concealed by darkness. Azriel recognized the fighting style more than the clothing, and it was for good reason Eris didn’t bother to use his powers. 

In a split second, Azriel shadow-walked to be behind the Autumn court soldiers, disarming one with ease while Eris held his own against the second. Azriel’s blade slid into the side of the throat and was pulled through the front, removing the attacker’s ability to scream as his life faded to a bloody end. 

The third spun from Eris to Azriel. He opened his mouth, but behind him, Eris flicked a dagger from his waist, the blade glinting before Azriel saw the male’s head jerk forward. When he fell, the handle of the blade stuck at a perfect right angle from the base of the male’s skull.

As Azriel had drawn Eris’ attention, his moment’s glance to throw the blade had left his left side unguarded. The remaining autumn warrior took advantage of the opening, and launched himself at the lord. His hand closed around the lord’s throat, and Eris was knocked toward Azriel, but Azriel was faster than the other warrior had perhaps anticipated.

In the span of moments, Azriel had removed the male’s hand from Eris’ throat, disarmed him, and bound him hand and feet with a cord he kept coiled in his boot for moments like this. His shadows had been dispatched to guard the borders of the glade.

Eris rubbed his neck as he offered a wad of cloth to Azriel, who crouched beside the bound warrior. Azriel took the fabric and shoved it into his mouth until he was satisfied the male wouldn’t be able to remove it.

“You need to kill him,” Eris said quietly. 

“I know,” Azriel said. The male’s eyes settled on Azriel as if he had only just now recognized the winged warrior. He began to scream through the fabric. Azriel’s remaining shadows spun around the warrior, examining him.

“Why do you scream?” Eris asked, crouching beside Azriel. “You chose to attack me. Your death was predetermined.”

The male’s eyes flicked to Azriel, then back to Eris, then back to Azriel again as his screaming increased in volume.

Eris snorted. “You truly think the death he will give you is worse than the death I could?”

Azriel couldn’t help but watch the Lord of Autumn as Eris stood. 

“A word, Azriel.” Eris looked down his nose at the screaming soldier. Azriel stood. They walked some distance away before Eris paused and looked over his shoulder at their prisoner.

“We have to kill him,” Eris said. “He recognized you.”

“That’s not surprising,” Azriel said. “Why did they come after you in the first place?”

Eris sighed. “I did something I shouldn’t have, and got caught doing it. Whether my father sent them or they took it upon themselves, I don’t know.”

Azriel paused. “What, exactly, were you doing?” If Eris was spying for Hybern, if he had used Azriel somehow…

Eris sighed. “I slept with one of their brothers.”

Oh. Oh. Prythian was generally safe for males like Eris. And Azriel. But some families held old ways of thinking that would incense hatred beyond caring that Eris was the son of a High Lord. It was that which kept Azriel hiding. He lacked the protection offered to Eris. Currently, he lacked even the protection of his brothers. 

So Azriel just nodded. When Azriel didn’t say anything, Eris sighed.

“How did you come here?”

“My shadows sent me. They were concerned.”

“Have they been watching me?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel admitted. “Sometimes they follow their own whims.”

Eris nodded. “I can handle him.”

“Do you want to?” What was one more body on Azriel’s tally? He’d killed nearly thirty yesterday, getting away from the Hybern guard who had started asking too many of the right questions. What was one more, in the face of the river of blood which had flowed from his hands?

“Not really,” Eris sighed. 

“You sound weary,” Azriel dared. After six years he was more than used to the ebb and flow of fights and battles, yet his heart still pounded in his chest.

“I am.”

“I’ll do it. Stay here.”

Eris said nothing in return but bowed his head.

Azriel crossed back to the bound warrior, who had started trying to roll and scramble away from them with whatever faculty he retained. Azriel placed a booted heel against the man’s collarbone, his toes grounded to the earth as he stood above the male.

“I’m going to take out the gag. Then you’re going to tell me who sent you, and what they wanted. If you don’t, I’ll torture you. This is your one chance. Do you understand?”

The male nodded, eyes glinting with starlight and terror. Azriel bent to remove the gag, whispering, “Scream, and I’ll gag you with something much more unpleasant than this fabric.”

He ripped it from the male’s mouth, and to his credit, the male said nothing.

“Who sent you?”

“No one. We came with him,” the male tipped his head at one of the bodies. “His brother died, and when they found his body on the battlefield, that bastard’s scent was all over him.”

“Eris’?” Azriel questioned. 

The male nodded. “They were… intimate.” He said it with a snarl, as though Azriel would not know and was being deceived. 

“You wanted to kill him.”

“Yes. For that, yes. It’s not–”

“Enough,” Eris’ voice sounded behind Azriel.

Azriel glared at him. “If it’s enough, kill him yourself.”

Eris shrugged. “Fine.”

The male opened his mouth to start screaming again, but Eris flicked his slender fingers. Azriel stepped back quickly as a reddish glow started emanating from the male’s throat and smoke began to billow from his mouth. 

Eris was burning him. Burning him from the inside out. The light of life in the male’s eyes was steadily replaced by the glow of that slow burning fire until the male was nothing more than ash in the wind.

Eris turned to Azriel. “Thank you for coming.”

Azriel nodded. Why was he so hesitant to leave? The second the male was dead, he should have walked away. Dawn was nearing again. He would need to be back before the High Lord woke in case he had further questions after last night’s debrief. Six years and ten months of this. Azriel wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take.

“Thank you for finding Cassian for me.” 

Eris smiled at that, not even looking as he lit the other two bodies on fire. “You saved my life.”

“You gave me the chance to see him. It had been a long time. It means more than I think you realize.”

Eris shook his head. “I imagine if I had a brother I trusted I would do just about anything in my power to see him.”

Azriel chuckled at that. “No friends among family?”

Eris sighed ruefully. “I’m afraid not.”

“Me neither. Except–”

They finished the sentence together, “my mother.”

“If you didn’t send for me,” Azriel crossed his arms, “Why did you trust I wasn’t there with them?”

Eris tipped his head back to stare at the sky. “My father has railed against your… proclivities in sexual partners. How he knew, I have no idea. I’ve never even heard whispers of you from anywhere else. I knew, if my father was somehow right, your presence was either on orders or to help me. I was willing to bet you wouldn’t kill me for something we share.”

“Beron knows about me?”

“Somehow. I think he had someone tailing you for a time, after Mor.”

Azriel bristled. He had been careful at 19, but apparently not careful enough. It was likely the best explanation. “You have no idea? Truly?”

Eris shrugs. “I was young when he brought it up. The timing seems right. I never put much thought into it.”

“So you assumed I was safe because of that.”

“No,” Eris laughed, quietly, but unmistakably amused. “No, I mostly assumed you were safe because the last time you saved my life you told me not to undo all of your hard work.”

“What happened then?” Azriel was demanding. He felt as though he was truly seeing the Autumn Lord, seeing him open and unguarded for the first time. Maybe now he could get answers.

Eris seemed to be willing to indulge him. “A winter court soldier didn’t realize who I was until I was on my way out of his tent. He tried to kill me.”

“It seems to me like you’re sleeping with the wrong people,” Azriel commented. Eris finally turned to face him, levelling him with a molten stare Azriel found himself drawn into. “And who are the right people?”

“People who have as much to lose as you do.”

“Like you?” Eris challenged. 

Azriel shrugged. “Are you offering?”

Eris smirked, turning to face Azriel. Dawn was growing, and the red light of morning lighting the leaves around him gave him the appearance of a body of molten fire. “If you ever wish to take me to bed, Shadowsinger, show up. I have spells on the glade. It will let me know you’re here.”

Azriel laughed. “Chances are slim, Vanserra.”

“But not zero.” Eris raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms in a slightly mocking reflection of Azriel’s own stance. 

“No.” Azriel admitted. “Not zero.”

[dreamscapesofimagination]

Let Me Give You My Life

A/N: I'm so proud of this tbh pls love it. Posts may slow down (more lol). I’m studying for the GRE, and how well I do determines if I can get into the masters program I want to do, which then determines getting into medical school. I love the support I’ve been getting- likes, reblogs (seeing yalls tags on the reblogs makes me smile like a fool!) yall are the best!

Warnings: Cursing, Angst? Mams is insecure and possessive af but man does he ADORE you, confessions- Asmo and Lucifer are sick of y'all.

Summary: Diavolo throws a ball to celebrate some event that Mammon honestly couldn’t remember- especially not when he saw you.

—-----------

This was annoying.

Mammon had had plans tonight- a job. Sure, it was some low-budget modeling shoot for what were some hideous clothes, but still. It was going to pay well (way better than the clothes were worth, but thats because they wanted the Mammon- not some random, low-life demon)

And yet, here he was at this lame-ass ball Diavolo was throwing- commemorating some sort of success that Mammon frankly didn’t care about. Lucifer had made the attendance of the Student Council mandatory- threatening to hog-tie anyone who didn’t attend and leave them for Cerberus to toy with.

Mammon suppressed a shiver at the memory of the last time he had been subjected to that punishment. It had taken four showers and a bath to get all of the damned drool off of him- and he had needed to completely throw out his clothes.

Bastard. He glared at the back of Lucifer’s head, the elder across the room, deep in conversation with Barbatos.

Attendance was mandatory.

So where the hell was Asmo- and more importantly where the hell were you?

An ugly feeling reared its head in his chest as he thought of you sneaking around with his younger brother. Why would you be with Asmo, and not the Great Mammon?

“You know, glaring at him isn’t going to make his head explode,” Satan’s dry voice sounded from next to him, and Mammon shot a glance at the blonde demon.

“Maybe he’ll get the hint that making this mandatory was stupid. Does he not understand that some of us have better things to do?” Mammon griped.

Satan scoffed, “Sure, better to hustle money for debts you have no intention of paying back.”

Mammon’s frown deepened at his brother’s words. It never hurt less to hear how little his brothers thought of him- as if somehow his sin being greed made him lower than them. As if Asmo wouldn’t fuck anything that breathed near him, as if Beel hadn’t wreaked havoc due to his damn stomach, and as if Lucifer hadn’t damn near killed you due to his pride. Yet Mammon was somehow beneath them because he liked money and things? Bullshit.

He opened his mouth to shoot back a scathing retort about how actually he was going to use the money from the shoot to buy you the necklace that he had seen you eyeing at the jewelry store everytime he dragged you past it- but the gasps around the room pulled his attention to the staircase, and his jaw dropped.

Oh, you looked expensive. A shimmering gold dress clung to your form in all the right places (though you didn’t have any wrong places, a fact that Mammon would never say out loud).

Your thick thigh flashed from the dangerously high slit with every step down the staircase. He was faintly aware of Asmo behind you, but he knew that the attention of the room was on you, and not the demon of Lust.

That ugly feeling reared its head again when he saw Lucifer approach you, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand- no doubt with a stupid smirk on his face.

Mammon recognized the feeling, and it was much more in line with Levi’s sin than his own.

You shone more than the piles of Grimm in the bank vaults- and Mammon wanted nothing more than to steal you away and horde you to himself, like a dragon in the fantasy books you would ramble to him about. The dragons were the biggest thing he remembered, too lost in the sound of your voice to really process anything else. Besides, you said that his horns and wings reminded you of the dragons- something you had said with such a sweet voice that it was all he could do to not swoop in and kiss you.

And yet Lucifer was taking you to the dance floor, one hand wrapped around your waist.

Satan said something, but the blood rushing in Mammon’s ears muffled the sound, and when he received no response, Satan rolled his eyes and left.

Mammon wanted to approach you, steal you away from that smug bastard. But he didn’t, unable to summon the courage. Because if he did, then you would question him. If you questioned him, he would say the wrong thing- or worse, confess and face rejection from the one person in all the realms who has never looked at him with disdain.

Instead, he watched from the sidelines, snatching a flute of some sort of champagne off a waiters tray, downing it in a gulp.

After the song ended, you smiled brightly at Lucifer- a smile that should have been directed at Mammon. He watched you leave the ballroom, going out to the balcony.

“You planning on making a move? If not I’ll go see if she needs any company- after all she does look stunning in the dress I picked out,” Mammon’s gaze snapped to Asmo, whom he fixed with a glare.

“You keep your damn paws off of her- she’s my human,” he snarled. Amusement sparkled in Asmo’s eyes, and the younger laughed, “You’re lucky she only has eyes for you.”

Now that made Mammon stutter.

“Whaddya talking about?” he demanded.

Feigning ignorance, Asmo said, “maybe you should just go talk to her and stop being a moron- honestly, I love romance but at this point it is nauseating to see you two dance around each other.” With that, Asmo flounced off to chatter to some lower demon.

Mammon hated to admit it, but Asmo had piqued his interest.

Almost without his knowledge, his legs took him across the room, and he entered the balcony, carefully shutting the door behind him.

And you stole his breath away again, bathed in the faint light spilling through the windows, looking up at the stars.

You looked over your shoulder, flashing him a heart-stopping smile, “Mams! I was wondering when you were gonna come see me. The party isn’t as fun if I’m not with you.”

His cheeks burned at your words.

“We-well, I didn’t want to interrupt your dance with Lucifer,” he all but spat the Avatar of Prides name.

You giggled, “what? Are you jealous?”

Mammon rapidly shook his head, jamming his hands into his pockets as you turned to face him, leaning back on the railing.

His eyes shamelessly flitted over your form, and he imagined himself tearing into your soft flesh, burrowing a home inside your flesh where neither of you would know where one ended and the other began.

You raised an eyebrow, “You sure? I mean, I’d rather have danced with the Great Mammon, but he was too busy glaring daggers at his brother to make a move.”

You pushed off the railing, carefully approaching Mammon, who felt himself freeze in place.

All he could do was watch you, heart hammering in his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck- and damn your height because this provided Mammon a particularly entrancing view of the pendant nestled in your cleavage- the necklace he had wanted to buy you.

He dragged his eyes back to your face, seeing amusement in your sweet gaze.

“Lucifer said it was from you,” He watched your plump lips move.

He shook his head, mumbling, “Was gonna get it for you with the pay from the gig I had lined up.”

The fact that Lucifer had gotten to it before him caused a pit in his stomach- why would you choose Mammon if you could choose his responsible, reliable older brother?

“You’re so sweet, Mams. Thank you.”

His face burned- him? Sweet?

Your soft gaze was akin to a siren song, and it was all he could do to not fall into you.

Tilting your head, you spoke with a rosy blush on your round cheeks, “Mammon,” he would do anything to hear his name fall from your lips again, “I waited for you to say something, but I don’t want to wait any more. I want to be with you. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel like you do. I just need to know if you feel the same. If you don’t we can just go back to being friends and I’ll never bring it up again-” you were cut off when he surged forward, lips slamming against yours as his hands settled on the swell of your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled you close. He swallowed down the noise of surprise that left you, relishing the feeling of you melting into him.

He didn’t know how to avoid saying the wrong thing- but he could act.

You were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted- and he would fall from Grace a million times over if this is where he ended up. You, pressed against him, hands tangling in his white hair as your lips melded together, his hands digging into your softness, melting together until you were one.

The two of you broke away, and Mammon was sure you were an angel when he took in your flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and dazed eyes.

He pressed his forehead to yours, chest heaving as he sucked in the air- air he would be happy to never breathe again if it meant he never had to stop kissing you.

“I’m yours- have been since you first showed up.” his words were whispered, hands coming up to cradle your face, falling into your lips again- greedy for more, more kisses, more closeness, more you.

He would trade all the Grimm in the Devildom to keep you close- if he was a dragon from your fairytales then you were the treasure he would horde.

[jwiseungoki]

Down Bad

(Jang Han Seok x Reader)

TW: age gap, force love, death, spoiled reader (this part doesnt have that much psychotic shit please tell me what to put as tw)

Context: Park Hae Rin has two elder brothers Park Hyun Sung and Park Hee Jin, as an only daughter she gets everything that she wants. Except for one thing: Jang Han Seok. Her brothers’ best friend, he sees her as a little sister but she sees him as a man. Every attempt to flirt with him, he dodges which frustrates her, Every woman that comes near him, she gets rid off and she wont rest until she calls him ‘mine’.

He’s back 

 

I didn’t mean to eavesdrop over my brothers talking inside Hyunsung’s home office. But when I heard his name, I froze, and suddenly this tingling feeling took over my whole body, leaving me smirking. 

 

Jang Han Seok 

 

Eldest son of Jang Guk Hwan, Chairman and Owner of Babel Group. He was sent to the States by his father years ago for studies and rehab because the boy has serious mental issues going on, but he is here now.

 

I fixed myself before innocently knocking on my elder brother’s office door. 

 

“Knock Knock, pretty face is here.” 

 

I said, opening the door, not waiting for my brother’s answer. Both of them have a frown on their eyebrows, looking at me like I did something to ruin their day. 

 

“Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Heejin, the middle child asked. I gave them both a smile before sitting on one of the leather chairs in front of the table. 

 

“I left early; Ms. Hong has some personal business to attend to,” I shrugged before grabbing a lollipop from the table. “So what chu guys talking about?” I smirked, waiting for a response from both of them. They looked at each other, eyes discussing whether they should or should not tell me. 

 

“Hanseok is back in Seoul and probably going to take over Babel." As expected, Hyunsung could never resist me. I put on a shocked face, like I didn’t overhear them. 

 

“Chairman Jang died last night in the hospital,” he added, and that escalated quickly. 

 

As a sign of respect, we went to the funeral. Our families were very close to each other even before our dads married our moms. Mr. Jang and our father were already best friends; their friendship will probably continue wherever they both are now. Dad died a year ago due to complications of the heart, while I never met our mother; she died giving birth to me. 

 

Which left Park Industries to the hands of Hyunsung, while Heejin acts as his subordinate. I don’t really care about inheritance, which is why I chose to pursue law. I’m working as an intern and assistant at Wusang with the help of my brothers, pulling some strings to get me to a trusted law firm. I’m the youngest one there. 

 

In the age of 24, I’ve known and achieved a lot. I was forced by my brothers to strive and aim for the top as the only daughter; all eyes were on me. I was an easy target for the media and people. They say I’m spoiled, a brat, and spoon-fed. 

 

Which is true.

 

I don’t run; I walk with grace to get the things I want. And I get EVERYTHING that I want. That’s why, learning that Hanseok is back, I need to pick up the pace and start the plan. 

 

To finally make him mine. 

 

“My condolences, Hanseo.” I tapped the younger Jang’s shoulder; he was oddly quiet and was staring into space for a long time before I approached him. For what I know, he and his father weren’t that close, casual, and civil, I suppose. But his action of mourning made me analyze that there was something. 

 

“Glad you can come; you’re not busy with cases?” He asked, tapping the seat next to him, and I sat beside him. “Not really; I’m just working on a small case with Ms. Hong. How are you holding up?” I asked, smiling at him a bit; he was about to answer when his eyes shifted to my legs and back to me. I looked down and saw no problem; was he checking me out? 

 

He then started to take off his black coat and place it on top of my lap. I should have guessed it; Hanseo was always the gentleman. Forgot to eat? Hanseo will remind you and bring you food. Frustrated and want to vent out? Hanseo will be there in 10 with chicken and beer. He’ll do the bare minimum thing, and I’d still be surprised. If I wasn’t in love with his brother, I'd fall for him, but there’s something about Hanseok that I want and can’t point out what. 

 

Speaking of Hanseok, I’ve not seen him anywhere. But then again, no one knows about him. Mr. Jang never publicized his sons; no one knew about his affair with his secretary that resulted in Hanseo; no one knew about Hanseok being sent to the states for being a psychopath; no one but our little circle. 

 

After catching up with Hanseo, I excused myself for some air. I made sure to double check my surroundings before pulling out the box of cigarettes and lighter. It was a habit that I picked up during law school, and vaping helped me a lot. 

 

“And since when were you allowed to smoke, princess?” 

 

That voice sent my entire body to freeze; I didn’t have to look to know who it was. Instead I took a hit before facing him with a smirk on my lips. Jang Hanseok gave me his signature smirk and brow raise, waiting for a response. 

 

“Hiding out here instead of mourning inside?” I asked, walking a little closer to him, finishing off my stick before throwing it on the ground. “What is there to mourn for? Man’s a dickhead.” He  chuckled. Wow, he is still fucked up, huh? 

 

But that aura just lit something in me, wrong but right at the same time. 

 

“Give me the pack,” he said, handing out his hand. I looked down at his hand, giving him a disgusted look. “I’m literally an adult; I think I am allowed to smoke,” I said, swatting his hand away. 

 

I was about to walk off, but he pulled my purse off my shoulder, opening it and getting the pack swiftly. “Hey! You can't do that! Give it back, Hanseok!” I yelled at him, trying to reach my bag and pack that he raised above his head. Even in heels, I still cannot reach it! 

 

“Fine! Have it, asshole.” I rolled my eyes before storming off, not caring if he has my purse with him. Good thing my jumpsuit has pockets. I had my phone with me. I called my Heejin and told him I’m heading home first. 

 

I’ve never felt this many butterflies while annoyed and frustrated. That man could literally do anything to me. 

 

 

•• 

 

“What do you mean you can’t get that testimony from the witness?! Then force him! Bribe him! Do whatever you need to do and report back to me immediately; Ms. Hong needs that to win the case.” 

 

I threw my phone on my desk, getting frustrated with the on-going Gyundo case. It’s a big fraud case that we need to get a win to prove that the trusted company is clean for the people to invest in and trust. They already paid a huge amount to Wusang, and the share that me and Ms. Hong will get from it is not a joke. 

 

“Ms. Park to my office now,” Mr. Han passed by my desk, and I immediately trailed from behind. Once in his office, I saw Ms. Hong sitting there wearing the same confused face as I am. She stood up, paying respect to our boss before he ordered us to take a seat as he stood in front of us.

 

“Ladies Firstly, congratulations on having the upper hand on the Gyundo case! Second, I will be assigning you two a very huge and big case the company will only push through if you win the Gyundo case. Lastly, we have a new intern, so Ms. Park.” 

 

He turned to me with a smile, making me nervous, and crept out, “You are now one of Wusang’s permanent lawyers. Congratulations on this promotion. You’re office will be ready in an hour.” 

 

“What?!” I said, shocked at the announcement. Ms. Hong let out an “oh my god,” shaking me by the arm, also amused by the news. 

 

“Yes, your hard work and dedication have been seen. We would like you to train the new intern; may I introduce to you Jang Joon Woo" Mr. Han opened the door to reveal another shocking surprise.

 

“What the fuck?” 

 

All eyes were on me, not expecting the words that came out of my mouth. “S-sorry, my apologies. I didn’t know the intern would be younger than me.” I lied, bowing a bit for respect. 

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ms. Park; you are still the company’s baby. Alright, then you go along and work. Take care of Mr. Jang." Mr. Han dismissed us; we bowed to him, and I was the first to storm off the door with Ms. Hong behind.

 

“Thank you, Boss!” 

 

Hanseok bid before I felt him following us. I stopped walking, making Ms. Hong hit my back. I faced her and smiled. “You go ahead, I’ll be back,” I said. “Are you okay? It’s like someone bought that limited edition Chanel bag that you always wanted,” Ms. Hong said, holding my cheek. 

 

“Yes, I’m fine; don't worry. I’ll meet you in your office,” I said, giving Hanseok a glare before walking away; he just had a confused look on his face. 

 

I can’t believe this! Why is he here?! And whats with the undercover gig?? Jang Joon Woo? What the fuck is he up to? After not seeing him for two months. I grabbed my phone that I left on my desk and started calling a certain person. 

 

“What the fuck is going on your brother’s mind?!” 

 

“Whoa, chill. I don’t know either, but I’m on the way to Babel; he appointed me as Chairman.” 

 

“Huh?!” I completely lost it as Hanseo’s words rang out in my ear. I massaged my temple; this can’t be! I can’t be working with the man I’m trying to get! 

 

I hang up on Hanseo and continue to grab my stuff before moving it to my own office. I didn't have the time to sink it all in; maybe I’ll celebrate later. I rushed towards Ms. Hong’s office with the Gyundo files, and to my surprise, Hanseok was still there, sitting on one of Ms. Hong’s wooden chairs. 

 

“Ms. Hong, we ha-“ 

 

“Shh! It’s Chayoung now; we’re both lawyers! So drop the formality; besides, its only a five-year gap,” Ms. Hong, well, Chayoung said before pulling me into a hug and giving me one of her brightest smiles. 

 

“You’re still my super-.“

 

“Eh! Shh! We are celebrating together! Later, on me. Okay?!” She cut me off again. I just nodded before setting down the files for her to review. 

 

“So we don’t have any testimony?” Chayoung asked, and I nodded. “According to the intern I sent in, the man does not want to talk to anyone associated with Gyundo; even the opposing party cannot get a statement.” I sighed, sitting on one of the chairs. 

 

I quickly glanced at Hanseok, who was watching us stress out; he looked back at me, and I raised a brow at him. 

 

“Any thoughts, intern?” I asked him not to break eye contact. Chayoung looked up from the papers, then to him, then to me. Hanseok smiled standing up before taking a glimpse at the file. 

 

“I think we should go for something that is very valuable to him so that we can get his testimony,” he suggested with a mischievous smirk, giving me an intense look. “Youre telling us we threaten him by using his family?” 

 

He just nodded; a smile crept on Chayoung’s face, liking the idea Hanseok proposed. “Wah! If that's the only way, then get started, Jang Joon Woo,” Chayoung said. I was left dumbfounded. Why are we suddenly playing dirty?!

 

Just like that, we won, and thanks to Hanseok’s idea, we got the testimony. I clenched on my purse as I walked out of the bar behind Chayoung. Hanseok was waiting for us with a smile. 

 

“Good job, ladies! Let’s celebrate?” He asked, and Chayoung was quick to respond, making the two look at me. “Fine! Let’s go; I’m quite peckish,” I said. Hanseok treated us to some pork belly and soju. I was lowkey getting irritated at how He and Chayoung are getting close; they have the same humor and interest, while I felt like I’m the third wheel. 

 

“When Haerin first came into the office wearing all Prada and Chanel clothes, I was star struck. An intern must have come from a very rich family. When I found out she came from generational wealth, I felt like she was the superior, but once I got to know her, she’s very calm and focused on the goal type of girl. You know she never took interest in anyone.” Then there is Chayoung, who is now a bit tipsy. “Okay, that’s enough. We’re driving you home,” I said, taking away her glass, but she swatted my hand. 

 

"Oh, I can still handle Haerin, Joon Woo! Cheers!” She said she was pouring drinks into mine and Hanseok’s glass; we had no choice, but in the end Chayoung got drunk, and I drove her car to her apartment with Hanseok in the backseat, completely sober. 

 

“She’ll be alright,” I said before locking up her apartment, pulling out my phone to call a driver since we came here with Chayoung’s car. 

 

“You haven’t spoken to me ever since that night." Hanseok spoke up while we walked to the elevator. "Well, I was going to call you about my purse, then you pulling some undercover shit in Wusang made you less interesting.” I shrugged. I saw him smirk. “Since when did I become less interesting to you, princess?” He said. 

 

He’s right, there won’t be a part of him that is not interesting. It feels like he knows that I have a keen interest in him. 

 

“Since you stepped foot into our house during your college days." I rolled my eyes; that was the day I first met him, and I took a liking to him. “Aw, don’t be silly. I know you adore me as one of your older brothers." He patted my head. Is he that oblivious? Hmm, I should step up my game. 

 

“Come on, I’ll take you home." He said, making me walk in front of him. 

 

••

 

The next day at work, I took an oath to make myself obvious to him, so when I saw him in Chayoung’s office working on a new case, I immediately called him to go to my office. 

 

“What?” He asked confusedly, and I pointed at the iced coffee on my desk for him. “It’s yours; I accidentally bought two,” I said, pretending not to care and proceeding to type words on my laptop. 

 

“And why give it to me instead of Ms. Hong?” He said but took a sip of the coffee, “Because you’re the only one I know here would enjoy an iced macchiato." He smirked and gave me a thanks before I dismissed him. 

 

“Whoa, why does he get lunch and I don't?” Chayoung wondered as I threw the takeout on the table in front of Hanseok, “What’s the update on the filler case?” I swerved the question, pretending to look at the papers. 

 

“Attorney Park! Did something happen between the two of you last night? Oh my God!” Chayoung said, covering her mouth and looking back at us. “What? No! Joon Woo mentioned he skips meals a lot, so I bought him lunch,” I said, looking at Hanseok. 

 

“A-ah yes! Thank you, Attorney. Uhm, I’ll eat now." He excused himself from breaking eye contact with me. I heard a cough from Chayoung, who was smirking, crossing arms, and nodding. 

 

“What? Why are you acting like that?” I asked, “Something happened!” She gasped and moved a little closer. “You two had sex in my apartment?!” I pushed her away from shock, “No! Oh my God, Chayoung! I’m too young for that,” I said, covering my ears. 

 

“Girl! You literally bagged an idol last time we went out clubbing; you’re not a virgin, hoe!” She laughed, throwing a piece of tissue at me. “But seriously, you never cared about Jang Joon Woo.” 

 

“Ugh fine! I like him, and I don’t just sit around waiting for guys to like me back,” I said, plopping myself on one of her chairs, pouting. She shrinks before asking me how and when I started to like him. I did not include the part that we knew each other before, and I felt so bad lying to her, but I also need to protect this stunt Hanseok is pulling. 

 

 

The day finally came to an end, and I was starving since I skipped lunch. I did it on purpose so I could ask Hanseok to accompany me. I went to his desk, where he was fixing his bag. I slammed my hand on his table, making him jump. 

 

“Haerin! You scared the shit out of me! What was that for?” He dramatically said. I rolled my eyes and leaned down. “Get up, we’re eating dinner,” I said before walking off. I felt him follow me with so many questions. 

 

We got to a Mexican restaurant since I wanted a burrito, and Hanseok ordered the same as me: “Cut to the chase princess, why are you suddenly being nice to me?” He asked, and I didn't answer him, but I continued to eat my burrito and nachos.

 

“I am talking to you right, princess?” He said putting down my food and grabbing my chin to make me look up at him, which, I’m not going to lie, made my stomach bounce inside me. 

 

“I just want to make it up; after all, we are all that we have,” I smirked. He wasn't expecting the last part, so he continued to eat. After dinner, he dropped me off at my apartment. After locking the door and throwing my heels off, I started to squeal and dance around. 

 

The car ride to Haerin’s apartment 

 

No one talked; complete silence engulfed the two, but Hanseok decided to break it. 

 

“The game you want to play, Princess, is very dangerous. Think twice about it before you get yourself trapped,” he said, smirking. 

 

I scoffed, so he caught on? He wasn't playing dumb but was just pushing the fact that I have interest in him.

 

“I know what I’m doing.” 

 

“So no backsies?” 

 

I rolled my eyes; he is such a child. 

 

"Yes, no backsies.” 

 

"Hmm, let’s see how you’re going to make me fall for you, Park Haerin.” 

[mcrdvcks]

Sweet Dreams - Chapter 8

Chapter Summary: The team sets out on a rescue mission for Alexandria.

Word Count: 8.2k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x Original Female Character (platonic relationship)

Notes: i'm happy to announce that this is the last angsty chapter for a while. i'm also super excited for the next chapter since i'm going to be introducing a new character 😏

warnings/tags: violence, blood

Series Masterlist - Chapter 7 → Chapter 9

AO3 Link For Chapter

The team, consisting of Natasha, Bucky, Steve, Logan, Storm, Hank, Emma, and even Jean and Scott, much to the elder’s dismay, got onto the X-Jet.

As the team boarded the X-Jet, the tension was palpable. Each member was lost in their thoughts, preparing for the mission ahead. The roar of the engines filled the cabin as the jet took off, cutting through the night sky toward the icy wilderness of Siberia.

Steve sat near the cockpit, reviewing the tactical plans with Natasha and Bucky. “We’ll need to approach this carefully. The facility is likely to be heavily guarded, and we don’t want to give them any warning.”

Natasha nodded, her face set in determination. “We’ll need to move quickly once we’re on the ground. We can’t afford to give them time to relocate or fortify their defenses.”

Bucky glanced at the others. “Storm, once we’re close, can you provide cover? We might need a blizzard to mask our approach.”

Ororo nodded, her eyes focused. “I can manage that. It should give us the element of surprise.”

Logan, sitting toward the back, was sharpening his claws absentmindedly. His thoughts were on Alexandria, and the idea of her being trapped in that facility was gnawing at him. He looked over at Jean, who was sitting quietly, her eyes closed in concentration.

“You pickin’ up anything?” Logan asked, his voice gruff but tinged with concern.

Jean opened her eyes and shook her head. “Nothing yet. But if she’s being held, it’s likely they’re using some kind of mental dampeners. It’ll be tough to break through.”

Logan grunted in response, his expression hardening. “We’ll get her out. No matter what.”

Scott, who was sitting next to Jean, put a hand on her shoulder. “We’re ready for anything. We’ve dealt with worse before.”

Emma, who had been silent up until now, spoke up, her tone sharp. “Let’s not underestimate this situation. HYDRA’s not known for playing fair, and they’ve likely set up a trap. We need to be on our guard.”

Hank, adjusting his glasses as he reviewed some data on his tablet, added, “The cold will be another factor. We need to make sure our gear is optimized for the extreme temperatures. Frostbite and hypothermia can be just as deadly as any HYDRA agent.”

---

Alexandria’s head hung low, the restraints tugging at her wrists as she heard tsking from above her. She raised her head.

“Such power wasted. And for what Aleksi?” Mikhail sneered, kneeling down in front of her.

She coughed, her throat dry and raw from holding back screams. “There’s a difference between us, Mik. You opened your arms to them, I hated them from the moment I got here.” He stood up, almost angry at her words.

“I was 3 years old! I watched you, mama, and papa get shot right in front of me! Your blood soaked my hands and my clothes and then I was told that I would be cared for. That everything was going to be alright.” She glared at him as she met his gaze, “well, guess what. That was a fucking lie.” Alexandria hissed.

“They took care of us!” He shouted.

“They tortured us!” She corrected him. “This isn’t normal. This is torture, this is hate, and this is wrong. You’ve become so twisted by them that you can’t see that.”

Small objects around the room began to levitate off the ground, surrounded by Alexandria’s blue telekinetic glow.

“We’re both monsters, Mik.”

He looked into her hazel eyes, now softly glowing blue before huffing and walking out of the room. There were 3 men left with her, and lucky for her, they were new guys. Strong, yes. But not a trained assassin like her.

She dropped the objects to the ground, making a cluttering sound as they all landed, but not before levitating a thick needle to the back of her hands. Alexandria quickly unlocked the cuffs before standing up on unsteady legs and running to one of the men, stabbing him in the jugular.

They didn’t have guns, since they’re not supposed to kill her, but they did have two knives.

She grabbed one of the men’s wrists, turning it inwards to slit the vein on his wrist before kicking out the third man’s legs and kicking his head in. Alexandria grabbed the knife from the last guy and unlocked the door.

---

Storm glanced out the window, the snowy landscape of Siberia coming into view. “We’re getting close. I’ll start manipulating the weather now.”

As she began to concentrate, the sky outside grew darker, thick clouds gathering as snow started to fall heavily. The visibility reduced to almost nothing, making the X-Jet’s approach undetectable from the ground.

Steve stood up, addressing the team. “Alright, we’re going in hot. We’ll split into two teams. Team One will be Natasha, Bucky, Logan, and me. We’ll hit the facility’s main entrance and draw their attention. Team Two—Storm, Hank, Jean, Scott, and Emma—you’ll go in from the south and provide support. We rendezvous at the central holding area.”

Natasha secured her weapons, her eyes meeting Steve’s. “Let’s do this.”

The jet touched down silently, the snowstorm covering their arrival. The team moved out quickly, each group heading to their designated positions.

As they approached the facility, Logan’s senses were on high alert. The cold air bit at his skin, but his healing factor kept it at bay. He could smell the faint scent of fear and sweat from within the compound—guards, unaware of the storm brewing outside.

Steve signaled for them to move in, and they made their way to the entrance. Natasha moved to the side, readying her taser discs.

With a nod from Steve, Logan sliced through the metal door effortlessly, and they were inside.

The interior of the facility was stark and clinical, with bright fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows. The team moved quickly, taking down guards with silent efficiency. Logan’s claws slashed through their weapons, while Bucky’s precise shots disabled security systems.

“We’re in,” Steve whispered into his comm, signaling Team Two.

Storm’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “We’re approaching the south entrance now. No sign of heavy resistance yet.”

Logan growled under his breath. “Too easy. They’re up to something.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “Keep your eyes open. We’ve got to find Alexandria.”

They continued deeper into the facility, the hallways twisting and turning like a labyrinth. The smell of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of blood—Alexandria’s blood, Logan realized, his anger flaring.

“Her scent’s getting stronger,” Logan muttered, his pace quickening. “She’s close.”

Sirens started to blare throughout the building as HYDRA soldiers stood in front of them, guns raised.

The sirens echoed through the cold, sterile halls of the facility, their piercing wails bouncing off the concrete walls. Red lights flashed, casting eerie shadows as the team found themselves face-to-face with a group of HYDRA soldiers, weapons drawn and ready to fire.

Logan's claws extended with a sharp snikt, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. "Well, ain't this a warm welcome," he growled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Steve was quick to respond, raising his shield as the soldiers opened fire. "Take cover!" he ordered, his voice commanding yet calm. The team ducked behind the thick metal walls of the corridor, bullets ricocheting off surfaces with alarming speed.

Bucky, his expression cold and focused, leaned out just enough to fire a few precise shots, each one finding its mark with deadly accuracy. "We don’t have time for this," he muttered, his tone frustrated. "We need to find Alexandria and get out."

Natasha, always quick on her feet, rolled out from her cover, launching her taser discs with precision. They hit two of the soldiers square in the chest, sending them convulsing to the ground. "We’ll clear a path," she said, her voice sharp as she quickly assessed the situation. "Logan, take point. Bucky and I will cover you."

Logan nodded, his gruff exterior giving way to a fierce determination. He charged forward with a low growl, his claws slashing through the HYDRA soldiers with brutal efficiency. The soldiers barely had time to react before Logan was upon them, his claws cutting through their weapons and defenses like butter.

As the team advanced through the facility, the resistance grew thicker. More soldiers poured into the corridors, trying to overwhelm them with sheer numbers. But they were no match for the seasoned fighters.

Steve’s shield deflected incoming fire as he moved with purpose, taking out soldiers with well-placed strikes. Natasha and Bucky worked in tandem, their years of experience evident in their synchronized movements. Logan, at the front, was a force of nature, his rage propelling him forward as he cut down anyone in their way.

“Where the hell is she?” Logan barked, his frustration mounting as they continued to move through the seemingly endless corridors. The scent of Alexandria’s blood was stronger now, mixed with the sterile, clinical smell of the facility.

“She’s close,” Logan muttered under his breath, his senses sharp. “Just a little further.”

As they turned a corner, they came face-to-face with a large, reinforced door. The kind that screamed ‘important.’ Logan didn’t hesitate. He slashed at the control panel, causing the door to slide open with a hiss.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of antiseptic and blood. Three men were dead on the ground, but the blood was fresh.

Alexandria rushed through the halls of the building, stopping when gunmen walked in front of her guns raised. “You can't kill me, idiots!” she shouted in Russian.

The soldiers shared glances at each other before one of them barked out, “we need her alive.”

She walked forward slowly, like a predator staking out her prey before using her telekinesis to bring one of their rifles to her hands, quickly shooting at them, two of them falling to the ground.

The other 8 moved behind a wall. She blasted the corner of the hall, the wall falling down on top of 3 of the men and giving her a clear shot at 3.

Alexandria looked to the other side where the other two men where, calmly walking around the corner and kicking one in the knee and shooting his head, before using the butt of the rifle to smash the other man’s head in.

She threw down the rifle, the magazine was empty, before an arm wrapped around her throat and a knife at her side. “We’re both getting out of here.” Mikhail said.

“And going to another HYDRA base? No thank you.” She hissed, trying to get out of his grip but his super strength made it impossible.

“Manya and Artyom already made it out. We are going to follow.” He pushed her forwards, his arm cutting off a good amount of her air supply as they walked through the building.

Mikhail’s grip tightened around Alexandria’s throat as he pushed her forward through the dimly lit corridors of the HYDRA facility. His breath was ragged, betraying a mix of desperation and determination.

Alexandria’s mind raced as she struggled to breathe, her thoughts darting between escape and the shock of seeing her brother alive. For years, she had believed him dead, murdered alongside their parents by HYDRA. And yet, here he was, forcing her to go with him to the very people who had destroyed their lives.

She felt the cold metal of the knife pressing against her side, a constant reminder of how precarious the situation was. “You really think it’s safe us with them?” she choked out, her voice strained from the lack of air.

Mikhail didn’t respond, his focus entirely on maneuvering through the building. Alexandria could feel the tension radiating off him—this was no reunion, no joyful return from the dead. It was a survival mission, pure and simple, and she was just another piece in the game.

They neared an exit door, the faint outline of the snowy landscape visible through the small window. Mikhail slowed, his eyes darting around for any signs of danger. Alexandria took the brief moment of hesitation to try and twist out of his grasp, but his grip was ironclad.

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. The knife pressed harder against her skin, a thin line of blood trickling down her side.

They reached the door, and Mikhail paused again, his gaze flickering between the exit and his sister. “This is our only chance, Aleksi. Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

Before Alexandria could respond, a growl echoed from the shadows behind them.

Logan emerged from the darkness, his eyes locked on Mikhail. “Let her go, bub,” he snarled, his voice a dangerous rumble. His claws were already extended, gleaming in the faint light.

Mikhail tensed, pulling Alexandria even closer as he pressed the knife to her throat. “One step closer, and I’ll kill her,” he threatened, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Logan. “You think I won’t do it?”

Logan didn’t flinch, his gaze cold and unyielding. “You don’t wanna do that, kid. You let her go, and we can talk. But you hurt her…” His voice trailed off, the threat hanging heavy in the air.

Mikhail’s grip tightened, and Alexandria winced as the blade bit into her skin. “You don’t understand,” Mikhail spat, his voice shaking slightly. “She’s my sister. I’m getting her out of here.”

“By holding a knife to her throat?” Logan’s tone was incredulous, but there was an underlying edge of anger. “That’s how you protect your family?”

Alexandria’s mind was racing. She could feel the tension in Mikhail’s body, the desperation in his voice. He was scared—scared of HYDRA, scared of what he’d become, and scared of losing her again.

“Mikhail,” she rasped, her voice barely above a whisper. “This isn’t the way. They’re the problem. You have to let them out of your head.”

His eyes darted between Logan and the door, uncertainty flickering across his face. For a moment, it seemed like he might listen, might lower the knife and let her go.

But then Logan moved—a slow, deliberate step forward—and in that split second, Mikhail panicked. His grip tightened, and the knife slashed across Alexandria’s throat, the movement quick and instinctual.

Blood splattered onto the floor, and Alexandria’s hands flew to her neck, her eyes wide with shock.

Before Mikhail could react further, a gunshot rang out. Bucky, who had been moving silently behind them, fired a single, precise shot. The bullet hit Mikhail in the head, and he crumpled to the ground, his body falling limp beside Alexandria.

Logan rushed forward, catching Alexandria as she collapsed, blood pouring from the wound at her throat. “Stay with me, kid,” he urged, his voice a mix of anger and concern. “You’re gonna be fine. Just hold on.”

Alexandria’s vision blurred, the world around her fading in and out. She could feel Logan’s arms around her, hear his voice, but it all seemed distant, like a dream she couldn’t quite grasp.

Logan moved Alexandria’s hand away from her throat and put a harder pressure on it, the blood still pouring out quickly.

Logan pressed down on Alexandria's throat with one hand, trying to stem the flow of blood. His other hand grabbed at his comm. “Hank! Get in here now!”

There was no hesitation in his voice, just raw urgency. Alexandria’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, her eyes struggling to stay open. Her skin was turning pale, a sharp contrast to the dark blood seeping through Logan’s fingers.

“Stay with me, sweetheart,” Logan growled, his voice low but commanding. “You’re not going anywhere, you hear me?”

Alexandria’s eyes flickered, her hand weakly clutching at Logan’s wrist. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

“Hank!” Logan barked again, the desperation creeping into his tone.

Hank’s voice crackled through the comm. “We’re almost there. Just hold on!”

Bucky spoke through the comms, “someone needs to get back to the jet and prepare for immediate take-off.”

“I’ll handle it.” Scott said.

Alexandria’s lips moved again, but no sound came out.

“Shh, don’t talk,” Logan muttered, his voice soft. “Just hang in there, sweetheart. We’re gonna get you patched up, and then you can tell me all about how much you hate me.”

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Alexandria’s lips, as she shook her head ‘no’, almost imperceptibly. Logan’s heart clenched at the sight, a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to but couldn’t deny.

“I- ” Alexandria rasped out, her voice barely there. Logan shook his head as she continued, forcing the words out no matter the pain it caused her. “I’m sorry.”

Logan's grip on her throat tightened just slightly, but not enough to hurt. His expression softened, something rare for him. "You ain't got nothin' to be sorry for, kid. This ain't your fault."

Her breath was shallow, each intake rattling in her chest. Alexandria's gaze locked onto his, desperate to convey what words couldn't. “Put you all at risk.” She slurred; her eyes drooping closed then opening back up slowly.

"Stop that," Logan growled, his tone more gentle than harsh. "Ain't nobody blaming you for this. HYDRA’s the one to blame, not you."

Her eyes fluttered, her strength ebbing away with each passing second. Alexandria’s hand twitched, as if she wanted to reach out to him, to hold on to something, but she didn’t have the strength.

A single tear slipped through her eye, rolling down to her ear. She can’t remember the last time she cried. Probably when she watched her parents be killed in front of her. Maybe the first few weeks she was at HYDRA.

Another few tears rolled out of her eyes. She blinked away the blurriness, from the tears and the blood loss. “I don’t-“ she was cut off by her gasping for air.

Bucky barked through the comms for Hank to get here quicker.

Logan felt his own throat tightening, “you’re not dying, you hear me?”

Alexandria’s eyes fluttered, her vision fading in and out as she struggled to focus on Logan’s face. “Can’t… can’t hold on…” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. The blood continued to pour from her wound, staining Logan’s hands a deep crimson.

“You can,” Logan insisted, his tone firm but tinged with desperation. “You’re tougher than this, Alexandria. Don’t you dare give up now.” He could feel her life slipping away, and it was tearing him apart in a way he hadn’t expected.

Alexandria’s grip on Logan’s wrist weakened, her strength fading fast. “Don’t wanna leave…” she murmured, her words slurred and barely coherent. “Not… now…”

Logan’s chest tightened at her words. For someone who’d been through hell and back, Alexandria had always kept her guard up, never letting anyone in. But in this moment, with death knocking at her door, she was finally letting him see the fear she’d kept buried deep inside.

“Then don’t,” Logan growled, his voice a mix of anger and something else—something raw and painful. “You stay with me, Alexandria. We’ll get you through this.”

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with a silent plea. She didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not now, when she was finally starting to find a place where she belonged. But the darkness was creeping in, pulling her under, and she didn’t know if she had the strength to fight it.

“I’m… I’m scared,” she admitted, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Her voice was so small, so fragile, that it made Logan’s heart clench.

Logan leaned in closer, his face inches from hers. “I know, kid. I know. But you’re not alone. You got me. You got the team. We’re not letting you go without a fight.”

Alexandria’s breath hitched, a mixture of fear and something else—relief, maybe—washing over her. She’d spent so long keeping everyone at arm’s length, convinced that caring about someone was a weakness. But here was Logan, gruff and harsh as he was, refusing to let her slip away.

“Hank!” Logan bellowed again into the comm, the urgency in his voice impossible to ignore.

“We’re here!” Hank’s voice came through, and a moment later, he burst into the room, followed by Jean. Hank immediately dropped to his knees beside Alexandria, his medical bag already open.

“Move aside, Logan,” Hank ordered, his voice calm but urgent.

Logan hesitated for a split second before he shifted to give Hank access to the wound. His hands were covered in Alexandria’s blood, the sight of it making his stomach churn. He hadn’t felt this helpless in a long time, and he hated it.

He immediately assessed the situation, his hands moving quickly as he pulled out medical supplies. “We need to get her to the jet now,” Hank said, his tone calm but urgent. “Logan, keep applying pressure while I stabilize her.”

Logan did as he was told, his eyes never leaving Alexandria’s face. She was barely conscious now, her breath shallow and uneven. Hank worked quickly, injecting her with a sedative to ease the pain and slow the bleeding.

“We’ve got to move,” Hank said, looking up at Logan. “She doesn’t have much time.”

Logan nodded, his face grim. He gently lifted Alexandria into his arms, careful to keep the pressure on her wound. She was so light, too light, and it only made him more determined to save her.

“Hang on, kid,” Logan murmured as he carried her out of the room, Bucky covering their exit. “We’re almost there.”

As they made their way to the jet, the rest of the team was already in motion, securing the area and preparing for a quick departure. The snowstorm that Ororo had summoned still raged outside, covering their escape as they boarded the jet.

Logan laid Alexandria down on the makeshift bed in the back of the jet, his hands still pressed firmly against her throat. Blood was everywhere—on his hands, on her clothes, on the floor—and he could feel the panic rising in his chest. But he shoved it down, focusing on what needed to be done.

“Keep your hands there,” Hank instructed, pulling out a small device from his bag. “I need to close this wound before she loses any more blood.”

Logan nodded, his jaw clenched. He could feel Alexandria’s pulse, weak and erratic beneath his fingers. Every second felt like an eternity as Hank worked, his hands steady and precise despite the chaos around them.

Jean knelt beside them, her face tight with concentration as she used her telepathy to try and keep Alexandria calm. “She’s fighting,” Jean murmured, more to herself than anyone else. “She’s scared, but she’s fighting.”

“She better be,” Logan muttered, his voice rough. “Because I’m not letting her go that easy.”

Hank’s hands moved quickly, sealing the wound with a combination of advanced medical tech and a bit of mutant healing serum. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to keep Alexandria stable. For now.

“Okay, I’ve got the bleeding under control,” Hank said, leaning back slightly to assess his work. “But she’s still in critical condition. We need to get her back to the mansion’s medbay.”

Logan didn’t respond, his focus entirely on Alexandria’s face. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow, but she was still alive. That was all that mattered right now.

Scott’s voice crackled through the jet’s comm system. “We’re taking off now. ETA to the mansion is twenty minutes.”

“Make it ten,” Logan snapped, not taking his eyes off Alexandria. “She doesn’t have twenty.”

“We’ll do our best,” Scott replied, and Logan could hear the urgency in his voice.

As the jet lifted off, Logan finally allowed himself to take a breath. His hands were still pressed against Alexandria’s throat, even though Hank had already stopped the bleeding. He knew he should let go, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. It felt like if he let go, even for a second, she’d slip away.

“She’s stable, Logan,” Hank said gently, noticing the tension in Logan’s posture. “You can let go now.”

Logan hesitated, his eyes flicking to Hank before finally nodding. He slowly lifted his hands, his fingers stained with blood, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Jean placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder, her touch gentle. “She’s going to be okay,” she said softly, her voice filled with a quiet confidence that Logan desperately wanted to believe.

Logan didn’t respond, just stared at Alexandria’s pale face. She looked so small, so fragile, lying there. It didn’t suit her. She was a fighter, tough as nails, just like him. Seeing her like this felt wrong.

“Logan,” Hank said, his voice pulling Logan out of his thoughts. “She needs to rest now. We’ve done all we can for her until we get back to the mansion.”

Logan nodded, his jaw still clenched tight. He moved back slightly, giving Hank room to work as he adjusted the monitoring equipment around Alexandria. The steady beep of the heart monitor was a small comfort, but it did little to ease the tightness in Logan’s chest.

“I’ll stay with her,” Jean offered, her tone gentle but firm. “You should get cleaned up.”

Logan looked down at his hands, still covered in Alexandria’s blood, and gave a short nod. “Yeah,” he muttered, though he didn’t move right away. His eyes lingered on Alexandria’s face, as if he was afraid she’d disappear if he looked away.

Jean’s hand squeezed his shoulder lightly, a silent assurance that she had things under control. Logan finally forced himself to stand, though his movements were stiff, reluctant. He took a few steps back, his gaze never leaving Alexandria until he turned and made his way to the small sink at the back of the jet.

As he washed the blood from his hands, the water running red down the drain, Logan’s mind was racing. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—this helpless, this out of control. He was a man of action, someone who fought his battles head-on. But this… this was different.

He wasn’t fighting an enemy he could see, something he could take down with his claws or his fists. He was fighting something much worse—losing someone he cared about. And that terrified him more than any battle ever could.

Back at the makeshift bed, Jean was still sitting beside Alexandria, her expression calm and focused. She kept her hand on Alexandria’s arm, using her telepathy to keep her friend’s mind at ease. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Hang in there, Alexandria,” Jean murmured softly, more to herself than to the unconscious girl. “You’re stronger than this. You can pull through.”

Logan finished cleaning up and moved back to Alexandria’s side, ignoring the way his hands trembled slightly. He wasn’t used to this kind of fear, the kind that gnawed at his insides and made him feel like he was drowning. But he shoved it down, focusing on what needed to be done.

“She’s gonna be okay,” Jean said again, her voice firm as she met Logan’s gaze.

Logan nodded, though he didn’t trust himself to speak. He just sat down beside Alexandria, his hand hovering over hers for a moment before he finally took it, his grip gentle but steady. He wasn’t good at this—at comforting people, at showing he cared—but he wasn’t going to let her go through this alone.

Not when he’d finally started to see the cracks in her tough exterior, the vulnerability she kept hidden from everyone else. He wasn’t going to let her slip away, not when she’d just started to open up, to trust him.

“Don’t you dare give up,” Logan muttered, his voice low but filled with a quiet determination. “You’re a fighter, kid. You don’t get to quit on me now.”

The jet’s engines hummed softly around them, the only sound in the otherwise silent cabin. Logan sat there, holding Alexandria’s hand, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions he couldn’t quite name.

But one thing was clear—he wasn’t going to lose her. Not now. Not ever.

---

As the jet finally touched down at the mansion, the team moved quickly, getting Alexandria off the jet and into the medical bay where the doctors were already waiting.

Logan didn’t leave her side, even as the medical team worked on her. He stood back, out of their way, but close enough that he could see everything, his eyes never leaving her face.

Hours passed in a blur of activity and tension. The medical team did everything they could, working tirelessly to stabilize Alexandria and repair the damage done by the knife.

Finally, as the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, one of the doctors approached Logan. “She’s stable,” the doctor said, exhaustion clear in his voice. “She’s going to need time to heal, but she’s going to make it.”

Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, relief washing over him like a wave. “Thanks, doc,” he muttered, his voice rough with emotion.

The doctor nodded, giving Logan a tired but understanding look before heading out to get some much-needed rest.

Logan turned his attention back to Alexandria, who was lying peacefully now, her breathing steady and even. The color was starting to return to her cheeks, and the wound on her neck was bandaged tightly.

He pulled up a chair next to her bed and sat down heavily, the weight of the past few hours finally catching up with him. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Not until she woke up.

As he sat there, the others slowly filtered in, one by one, to check on Alexandria and offer their support. They didn’t say much—there wasn’t much to say—but their presence was a comfort, a reminder that they were all in this together.

Hours passed, and Logan stayed by Alexandria’s side, his eyes growing heavy as exhaustion tugged at him. He fought to stay awake, unwilling to leave her alone, but eventually, sleep claimed him.

He didn’t know how long he slept, but when he woke up, the room was quiet, the only sound the steady beep of the monitors. He blinked blearily, his eyes focusing on the figure in the bed next to him.

Alexandria was awake.

Logan stood up and pressed the button to call for Hank. He noticed her move her lips but clearly her throat was dry, so he helped her take a few sips of water before sitting back down next to her.

“You called me sweetheart.” She said, a small smile on her face, even though she looked to be in pain.

Logan’s eyes widened as he heard Alexandria’s voice. It was faint, but unmistakably her. He looked down at her, her pale face now lit with a smile despite the pain etched into her features. For a moment, he didn’t know whether to laugh or scold her.

“Sweetheart, huh?” he grumbled, trying to mask the relief that was threatening to overtake him. He glanced around, making sure Hank was on his way. “You know, you almost gave me a heart attack. You had me worried sick.”

Alexandria’s smile faded slightly as she winced, her hand gingerly touching the bandaged area on her neck. “Well, I wasn’t planning on it. Didn’t exactly think I’d be the one to worry you.”

Logan let out a gruff chuckle, though it was strained. “Don’t get used to it. You still owe me for almost making me lose my mind.”

Before Alexandria could reply, Hank bustled into the room, his medical bag in hand. “How’s our patient?” he asked, his gaze flicking between Logan and Alexandria.

“Woke up just a minute ago,” Logan said, his voice softer now but still edged with concern. “Still pretty groggy, though.”

Hank nodded and moved to Alexandria’s side, adjusting some of the medical equipment around her. “That’s to be expected. The procedure went well, but she’s going to need some time to recover. Make sure she gets plenty of rest.”

Alexandria tried to sit up, but the pain made her wince. “I’ve had worse.”

Hank looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Your throat was slit open, and you had 4 cracked ribs, a cracked femur, and not to mention dehydration.”

Alexandria tried to shrug, wincing with the effort. “I’ve had worse.” She reiterated.

Hank’s expression didn’t soften. “Well, you’re not getting out of bed anytime soon. I’ll need to keep you under observation for at least a few days. No arguing.”

Alexandria opened her mouth to protest but was cut off by Hank’s stern look. Instead, she just nodded and sank back into the pillows. Logan, who had been watching the exchange with a mix of relief and concern, finally spoke up.

“Doc’s right,” Logan said gruffly. “You need to take it easy. I don’t want to see you getting up and trying to play hero anytime soon.”

Alexandria gave a weak smirk. “I’ll try not to. But you know me…”

Logan’s eyes softened slightly, though his expression remained serious. “Yeah, I do. And that’s why I’m gonna be keeping an eye on you.”

Hank, busy adjusting the IV drip, glanced over his shoulder. “I’m going to get a few more supplies. Logan, try to get her to rest.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan grumbled, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. He sat down in the chair next to Alexandria’s bed, his gaze never leaving her. “You really did a number on yourself this time.”

Alexandria’s eyes, though tired, held a glint of defiance. “I didn’t exactly plan on it.”

Logan chuckled dryly. “I figured. But that doesn’t make it any easier to watch.”

There was a moment of silence as Alexandria seemed to gather her thoughts. “I’m sorry for… putting you through this,” she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Logan shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You’re tough, and you’ll bounce back. Just… don’t make a habit of it, alright?”

“Alright,” Alexandria said, her eyes drifting to the side as she fought to stay awake.

---

After a week in the medbay, Hank finally let her go, although he said that she should take it easy, no lifting things or running around.

She listened, begrudgingly, but also because Logan had been with her through the entire thing. She’s pretty sure he now knows more about her health than she does.

Alexandria finished reading a few chapters of her book, she decided to read a book in English instead of Russian this time, to get better at reading English words and because she didn’t want to look or hear Russian for a while.

She put on her mind blocker and laid upright, her upper body against the pillows, just like Hank told her. Alexandria told him that it was uncomfortable but all he did was look at her before reviewing her vitals again.

---

“Alexandria! Take your jacket!” Her dad called out.

Alexandria stood by her bedroom door before going back into her room, “ok papa!” She yelled back, trying to grab her jacket from the closet. But she was too short to reach it, that’s why mama picks out her clothes.

Her brother stood over her, grabbing her jacket for her, “like this, Aleksi.”

“Thank you, Mik.” She said, as Mikhail ruffled her hair.

“Come on, let's go. You want to go to the zoo, right?”

Alexandria nodded her head fervently as Mikhail chuckled and led her out of her room after putting her jacket on.

Mama and papa stood by the door, quietly arguing. “I'm ready! Can we go now?” Alexandria asked, cutting off their argument.

Mama looked at her, “Sorry, Sashulya. We can't go. It's dangerous.”

Her eyes welled up with tears, “dangerous? Why dangerous?”

They heard a car screeching from outside of their small house as papa turned to Mikhail, “Hide your sister, right now.”

Mikhail nodded as Alexandria looked between her parents and brother, “but the zoo!” she pouted.

“Another day, Sashulya. I promise.” Mama said, before ushering Mikhail and Alexandria away from the door.

Mikhail picked her up and carried her to the staircase for the basement when armed men came through the roof. “Don't move! To the door, boy.” One of the men said as more stood around them.

Mikhail raised one hand, the other one still carrying Alexandria as he walked back to the door where mama and papa were on their knees.

“She's a child! Not a soldier!” Her mother called out.

“You have a problem with me, not her.” Papa said, hearing the footsteps of Mikhail until he was behind them.

The woman grabbed Alexandria from Mikhail’s arms roughly as one of the soldiers kicked in his knee so he was kneeling beside her parents.

“Even if you gave us what we wanted, there is nothing better than her..”

“Manechka!” Her dad growled, “don't you dare.”

The woman looked at the soldiers behind the three, nodding. “Kill them.” The guns went off, bullets going through each one of their bodies as Alexandria squealed and cried from the loud noises.

The sound stopped as she fought to get out of the woman’s grip. The woman set her down and she ran to mama. “Mama! Wake up! Please! Papa! Mik!”

---

She woke up with a start, the blanket falling down to her waist and her chest clenching in pain, from both the nightmare and her healing ribs.

Alexandria felt tears stinging her eyes but blinked them away before they fell. Her chest was heaving, and she couldn’t seem to get her breathing under control.

She grabbed the glass of water on her bedside and chugged the whole cup, setting it down with a muted thud.

It was like she forgot how to breathe, her throat was closing in, her heart was pounding, and her lungs were burning.

Her gasps for air started to hurt more and more, the memory of that morning playing like quick scenes in a show.

Without taking off the mind blocker stuck on her forehead she went to the only person she thought could help, even if it was 1 in the morning.

The walk down the hall felt longer than usual, each step sending jolts of pain through Alexandria’s ribs. Her feet moved on autopilot, the rhythm of her steps broken by the occasional wince. By the time she reached Logan’s door, she felt like her lungs were about to collapse.

Her knock was barely audible, just a soft rapping of her knuckles against the wood, but in the stillness of the night, it was enough. She stood there, her hand lingering on the doorframe, trying to steady her breathing. It wasn’t just the pain that made her come here—it was the fear. The fear that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be able to keep the nightmares at bay on her own.

After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open. Logan stood there, his face shadowed by the dim light from the hallway. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at her with those piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through her.

She tried to speak but instead her lungs continued to burn as she leaned against the doorframe and clutched her shirt’s material by her chest.

Her gasps for air and the terror in her eyes told him all he needed to know. He clutched her by the shoulders, telling her to follow his breathing, but her eyes were unfocused, as if she couldn’t hear him.

Logan’s grip on her shoulders tightened, not in a way that would hurt her, but firm enough to ground her. He crouched down slightly to be at her eye level, trying to catch her gaze. "Kid, look at me," he said, his voice low and steady, a tone he reserved for moments like this—moments when words mattered more than actions.

But Alexandria’s eyes were wild, darting around as if searching for an escape, her breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. It was like she was back in that moment, trapped in the nightmare, unable to pull herself out. Logan had seen this before—he’d been there himself more times than he could count.

"Alexandria," he said, a bit more forceful this time. "Focus on me. Just breathe. In... and out. Come on, you can do it."

Her chest heaved as she tried to follow his instructions, but the panic was too overwhelming. Logan cursed under his breath. He wasn’t the comforting type, never had been, but this kid had wormed her way into his life in a way he hadn’t expected. She was tough, sure, but even the toughest ones cracked sometimes.

He released one of her shoulders and placed his hand gently over hers, which was clutching her chest. "Feel that?" he asked, his voice softer now. "My hand’s right here. Focus on that. Just breathe with me."

It was a small gesture, but it seemed to do the trick. Alexandria’s eyes flicked down to where his hand covered hers, and for a moment, the frantic edge in her gaze dulled. She focused on the warmth of his hand, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed slowly, deliberately.

"In... and out," Logan repeated, his voice a steady rhythm. "You’re not there, kid. You’re here. Safe."

She tried again, this time managing a deeper breath, though it was still shaky. Logan stayed right there, his presence solid and unyielding, as if nothing in the world could shake him. Slowly, her breathing began to even out, each inhale and exhale becoming a little less strained.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was likely only a few minutes, Alexandria’s breathing settled into something close to normal. She blinked a few times, as if waking from a daze, and her eyes finally met his.

Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. "There you go," he said, his voice gruff but relieved. "That’s better."

She nodded, still a bit shaky, but the wild look in her eyes had faded. "I’m... sorry," she managed to get out, her voice hoarse.

"Don’t apologize," Logan replied quickly, almost harshly. "You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for."

Alexandria shook her head, feeling foolish for waking him up, for not being able to handle something as simple as a nightmare. "I just... couldn’t breathe."

"I know," Logan said, his tone softening again. "That happens sometimes. You did the right thing, coming to me."

The words felt strange coming from him, but he meant them. He wasn’t one for comfort or reassurance, but he knew what it was like to be haunted by nightmares, to feel like you’re drowning in them. If anyone understood, it was him.

She felt the betrayal of her own body, a few tears sliding down her cheeks and dripping off her chin. Alexandria put her arms around Logan's waist and buried her face in his chest. It wasn’t something she’d ever done before—this kind of physical closeness—but the need for comfort, for something solid to cling to, overpowered the part of her that still screamed to keep her guard up.

Logan stiffened at first, not because he didn’t want her there, but because it was unexpected. The kid was usually so tough, always trying to hold herself together, and here she was, clinging to him like she was drowning. It hit him hard in a way he wasn’t prepared for. But he didn’t push her away. Instead, he slowly wrapped an arm around her, holding her just tight enough to let her know he was there.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual. It wasn’t something he said often—hell, it wasn’t something he said at all—but he figured she needed to hear it. “You’re okay.”

She didn’t say anything, just stayed there, breathing in the scent of cigar smoke and leather that seemed to cling to him like a second skin. It was grounding, somehow, pulling her back from the edge. The panic that had gripped her chest was starting to ease, replaced by a deep, bone-tired exhaustion.

Logan kept his arm around her, not saying anything more. He wasn’t the type to offer comforting words or platitudes; he never had been. But he understood the need for someone to be there, just to anchor you when everything felt like it was slipping away. So, he held her, letting her take whatever comfort she could from his presence.

After a few minutes, Alexandria finally pulled back, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She didn’t look at him, embarrassed that she’d let herself break down like that in front of him. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled again, her voice thick with exhaustion.

“Stop apologizin’,” Logan grunted, but there was no bite in his tone. “Ain’t nothin’ to apologize for. You’re goin’ through a lot. You’re allowed to crack once in a while.”

She nodded, still not looking at him. “I thought I could handle it,” she admitted quietly. “But… it’s hard.”

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, kid. It is. But you don’t have to handle it alone. That’s why you’ve got people here. You come to me, or Hank, or anyone when you need help. Got it?”

Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes still red-rimmed but calmer now. “Got it,” she whispered.

He nodded, satisfied with her answer. “Good. Now, you need to get some sleep. Hank’ll have my head if he finds out you’ve been up all night.”

She managed a small smile at that, the first one he’d seen in a while. “He’s already been nagging me about staying in bed.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what he’s good at,” Logan said with a smirk. “Now, c’mon. Back to bed.”

Alexandria hesitated for a moment, then said, “Can I… can I stay here for a while? I don’t want to be alone.”

Logan looked at Alexandria for a moment, then gave a short nod. He adjusted the other half of the bed, setting the pillows upright and making sure the covers were pulled just right before helping her settle in.

“Alright, you get in, I’ll get the lights,” Logan said, his voice still rough but a bit softer than usual. He reached over and turned off the light, leaving only a small nightlight on the bedside table to cast a dim glow around the room.

Alexandria slid under the covers with a small, tired sigh, looking up at him with a mixture of gratitude and lingering embarrassment. Logan watched her for a moment before pulling a chair closer to the bed.

“You comfortable?” he asked, though it was more of a rhetorical question. He knew she’d probably say she was fine, but he had to ask anyway.

“Yeah,” Alexandria murmured, her voice still thick with exhaustion. She glanced at him, her eyes a little brighter now, but still heavy with the remnants of her panic.

Logan took a seat in the chair, his posture relaxed but attentive. “You need anything? Water? Another blanket?”

“No, I’m good,” Alexandria said, shaking her head slightly. She pulled the covers up to her chin and tried to get comfortable. “Thank you for... you know, being here.”

Logan grunted, a noncommittal sound that was as close to a verbal shrug as he could manage. “Yeah, well, you needed it. Ain’t gonna leave you hangin’.”

Alexandria looked at him, her gaze softening despite her exhaustion. “I didn’t think I’d be so... weak,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s expression remained gruff, but there was a flicker of something—concern, maybe, or maybe just understanding. “Ain’t weak, kid. Just human. Even the strongest people have their breaking points.”

She nodded slowly, processing his words. “I guess. I just... thought I could handle it. I’ve been trying to...”

“Handle it all on your own?” Logan cut in, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a surefire way to run yourself ragged. You don’t have to do it all alone. Not here.”

Alexandria’s eyes met his, and she seemed to be considering his words. “I know,” she said quietly. “It’s just... hard to trust sometimes.”

Logan sighed, leaning back in the chair. “I get it. Trust ain’t easy, especially not for someone who’s had a rough go of it. But you gotta start somewhere. And you’re here now, right? You got people who care.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly. “I’ve been trying. It’s just... new.”

He nodded, understanding the struggle all too well. “Just take it one step at a time. And remember, if you need to talk, or if you need help, you come to me or anyone else. Don’t bottle it up.”

“Okay,” Alexandria said, her voice a bit steadier now. “I will.”

Logan gave her a small, reassuring nod. “Good. Now get some sleep. You’re gonna need it.”

Alexandria managed a faint smile, the first real one she’d given him tonight. “Thanks, Logan. For everything.”

He waved it off with a gruff chuckle. “Don’t mention it. Just... get some rest. We’ll talk more when you’re feeling better.”

She nodded and closed her eyes, the fatigue finally catching up with her. Logan remained in the chair, his eyes on her as she settled into a more peaceful sleep. The room was quiet, save for the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing.

[dlst0rtion]

note to self: don't do it you son of a- (chapter 2)

pairing: nekoma x male reader, yachi hitoka x male reader, and kuroo tetsurō x male reader

masterlist

series masterlist

a/n: I've been changing so many stuff lately since I don't have a solid plan for this series but the reader will get 2 love interest ^^

Pudding 🍮

kenma

was it really necessary to chase down [last name] after school ended, kuroo?

kuroo

OFC KENMA 😎

having [last name] would be beneficial for the team

I needed to catch him before it was too late

kenma

I like [last name] and agree but I don't think taunting him like that would make him want to join us

kuroo

taunting???? him????

what makes you think I was taunting him

kenma

it's you.

kuroo

😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣

EL O EL

I MIGHTVE MADE HIM MAD A LITTLE??? I BROUGHT UP MIDDLE SCHOOL 😍

kenma

ur so stupid

kuroo

trust the process kenma 😎😎

kenma

what made you interested in [last name] anyways?

kuroo

he's like art 😍

obscure art, but still, art❗️

plus his brain is so big

kenma

if [last name] doesn't want to be near us again bc of you I'd never forgive you

kuroo

real!!!

kenma

stop saying that.

kuroo

________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"what the hell am I doing here," [name] asked himself as he stood outside nekoma's gymnasium doors.

[name] would never admit it to anyone but kuroo did touch something deep inside him when he mentioned joining the volleyball team.

as his mother said, he used to love volleyball.

used to.

[name] peeked through the slight opening of the gym doors as he watched nekoma's volleyball club practice.

his heart felt warm.

he forgot how it felt, the adrenaline when he would play all those years ago.

he missed it.

"can I help you with something?" [name] jumped a little as he turned around to see who caught him in this position. "oh! [last name] I've never seen you around this part of the school before."

it was the volleyball coach, coach naoi. he was a confident male with dark, short-cut hair. [name] liked him. he's a pretty cool dude.

"oh yeah um.... I was just," [name] didn't know what to say. he fully didn't intend on being caught and planned to make his grand escape after a bit of snooping.

"do you want to join the volleyball club, [last name]?" coach naoi asked with a small smile on his face.

he knew of [name] and had spoken to him a couple of times when they pass by each other in the hallways. coach naoi viewed him as a bright young kid that would be going to places.

"hmmm," [name] contemplated on saying no and leaving. "I'm not quite sure. I haven't played volleyball in years."

"that's alright! just come join us for a couple of days and see how you like it. you can act as our manager for the time being," coach naoi offered.

it was a pretty solid offer.

[name] gave the man a small smile, "sure."

the two walked through the doors while the sounds of shouting and sneakers screeching started to cease.

"everyone listen up!" the tall coach shouted which made everyone fully stop. "I would like to introduce you guys to [last name] [name]. as of today he will join us as a manager. please take care of him."

"nice to meet you," even though he had a blank face, [name]'s voice was sincere and warm as he bowed down to his future club members.

kenma, a guy from his class, gave him a small smile while kuroo gave him a gengar-easque smirk.

"NICE TO MEET YOU, [last name]!"

"isn't he kenma's classmate?"

"welcome to the club, [last name]!"

"YAHOOOOO WE FINALLY GET A MANAGER!"

"SHUT UP, LEV!"

jeez, what did [name] get himself into?

as coach naoi got the team started on their drills, [name] turned towards the other coach.

"coach nekomata, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm [last name] [name]," the young male said as he bowed to his elder.

"no need for that," coach nekomata said, waving him off. "I know who you are, [last name]. you were quite the powerhouse during your time at ushimi middle school."

"you know of that?" [name] asked, surprised. "and please, just call me [name]."

"of course. anyone would want to catch the son of the great [last name] makoto in action."

[name]'s mood slightly dampened at the mention of his father.

"so what do I exactly do as a manager? I've only been a player for a volleyball team and ushimi didn't have a manager."

"it's quite easy. you mainly just need to fill and hand out water bottles and towels. you can help catch naoi by handing him some volleyballs or collecting stray ones. you can also set up and take down nets and clean the gym when we're all finished," nekomata explained. "are you not returning as a player?"

"maybe I will again, someday. I'm just not used to playing it again right now," [name] sat down on the bench beside the elder. "coach naoi offered to let me stay here for a couple of days, act as the team's manager for the time being, and see how I feel."

"hmmm, I see. well I hope you return to the field again someday. it was magnificent watching you play," nekomata gave the boy a closed eye smile.

"thanks."

as the day progressed, [name] fulfilled his duty as manager. giving water and towels to the members. refilling the water bottles. and assisting coach naoi when needed.

during that time, most of the nekoma members couldn't take their eyes off of him.

I mean, THE [last name] [name] was THEIR manager?

unreal.

unbelievable.

ain't no way.

"so, [last name], you decided to join our team after all," kuroo said as he took a sip from the water bottle that the other male handed to him.

"it wasn't because of you if that's what you think," [name] gave kuroo a disgusted face.

"you wound me, truly, [last name]," kuroo said as he pretended to hold his heart in pain.

"you're so dramatic," he rolled his eyes and pushed the rooster head face away.

[name] then turned his attention to a certain pudding head who was sipping his water bottle in peace.

"you did good, kozume," he complimented the quiet male.

"thank you, [last name]," kenma smiled at his new manager.

"hey, what about me? I did pretty well today too," kuroo gave them a triumphant pose.

[name] ignored him.

"we don't need to be formal with me [last name] we're in the same class, just call me kenma."

"if only you call me [name] as well."

"can I call you, [name]?" kuroo chirped.

"no," [name] side-eyed kuroo as he visibly deflated.

"[name]," a short sandy-haired male said walking towards him. "never thought I'd see a [last name] as a manager instead of a player."

"you know about me too, yaku-senpai?"

"naturally," yaku replied. "I know you from ushimi middle school too and considering who your father is as well, it's not hard to know you."

"hmm, I thought it would die down since I left volleyball all those years ago."

"you come from two famous parents, [last name]. it's only reasonable for people to know who you are," yaku replied honestly.

even though what yaku said was true, it still brought [name]'s mood a little low since all his life people had expectations of him. especially his father.

"you don't need to worry about that though, [name]. we're your teammates, we expect nothing but your help and support," another, rather soft, voice said while yaku hummed in agreement.

[name] saw a guy with jet-black hair that was shaved into a buzzcut.

"Nobuyuki Kai, but you can call me kai," the male smiled warmly at the cold male.

"nice to meet you kai-senpai, you can call me [name] too," [name] directed the last part to both kai and yaku.

"[LAST NAME]-SENPAIII" a tall grey-haired male screamed running towards the group. "it's nice to finally get to talk to you! many of the girls in my class always talk about how handsome and unapproachable you are but I don't think you're scary at all. maybe your face is though. you should smile more, you'll be less scary. oh yeah, my name is haibi lev!"

many were shocked, but not surprised by lev's bluntness but [name] didn't seem phased by it, actually, he was amused.

"thanks, I'll keep that in mind," [name] stated.

"are you going to come hang out with us after practice? it's kuroo turn to buy us ice cream."

"LIKE HELL I'M PAYING FOR ALL OF YOU!"

"HEY! YOU HELD OFF YOUR END OF THE BARGAIN FOR 2 WEEKS, STOP BEING A FREELOADER!"

"yeah, come on kuroo. [name] is joining too, take it as a welcoming gift for him," inuoka suggested coming up from behind [name].

"fine," kuroo grumbled.

[name] looked on confused, "I am?"

"it'll be nice to hang out with you, [name]. we can all get to know you and you know... vice versa," shibayama said with a soft smile.

"only if you want to, [name]," kai reminded.

"I would love to but I need to pick up my little sister before it gets dark. I don't want her going home alone at night," [name] said taking a glance out the window, the sun had already set.

"oh shit, has she been waiting long?" yaku asked worriedly. he knew their practices take quite a bit of time.

"no don't worry about it. my little sister normally helps around her elementary school's garden with other students and teachers after school. she wasn't able to tend to the flowers yesterday because of the rain. if I leave now, I think I'll just make it," the new nekoma manager explained.

"nice time then?" kenma asked.

"next time," [name] nodded. "I should get going now."

"wait!" kuroo held out his hand to the male to halt him. "you should give me your number so you can be added to the nekoma volleyball group chat. just to socialize and be informed of plans."

"is this just an excuse to get my number?" the manager raised his eyebrow.

"partially," kuroo smirked. "but genuinely, it's so we can all communicate with each other."

"sure."

as they exchanged their numbers [name] headed toward both nekoma coaches who were patiently waiting for him.

"so, [last name]. what do you think?" nekomata asked the male.

"you have an interest group of people you coach," [name] stated as both the coaches gave him a small laugh.

"interesting enough for you to stay?"

[names] mouth twitched a little but remained in a straight line, "yeah..."

"perfect!" coach naoi exclaimed as he handed [name] a piece of paper. "here's the sign-up sheet to officially be a part of nekoma's volleyball team! we're honoured to have you. oh! and before i forget to tell you, we're going to be at shinzen high for a week after summer break starts."

"okay, thanks," [name] bowed to both of the coaches as he departed from the high school, ready to make his walk toward seichi elementary school.

as he waited for his bus to arrive he felt the constant buzzing of his phone.

meow meow vb team 😼😹😻

kuroo added you

lev

[LAST NAME]-SENAPIIIII

yaku

lev shut up

[name] is probably busy picking up his sister rn

kenma

^

kai

^

fukunaga

^

kuroo

^^

lev

hey [name]-senpai, I have a sister too!

kuroo

no one asked

lev

:<

yamamoto

I DIDNT GET TO TALK TO [LAST NAME] IN PERSON

kenma

that's bc you were too busy ogling him

kuroo

🤨🤨

yamamoto

he's a handsome man what can I say

lev

:O

inuoka

:O

shibayama

:O

yaku

:O

kuroo

😟

ur so real for that

yamamoto

what, I'm secure 😤

thanks.

lev

HE HAS SPOKEN

[LAST NAME]-SENPAI HIII

LEV HI ٩(^▿^)۶

kuroo

oh em gee

[name] uses those emoticons

I'm in love

that's [last name] to you

눈_눈

kuroo

yaku

hey that emoticon looks just like you

눈_눈

kuroo

real

kenma

stop saying that

I like emo

kuroo

I'm emo

emoticons

sorry I accidentally press sent too early

yamamoto

bro is so down bad

kai

^

fukunaga

^

lev

^

kenma

^

inuoka

^

yaku

^

teshiro

^

Shibayama

^

kuroo

my primal urge to say real

oh before I forget

coach naoi said something about going to shinzen high for a week or something

fukunaga

training camp.

kuroo

training camp

kenma

training camp

yaku

we're invited to a training camp

thanks.

so why do we have to stay at shinzen for a week?

yaku

to socialize

lev

to make friends :D

kuroo

to crush fukurodani.

thanks.

so why do we have to stay at shinzen for a week?

kai

every school under the fukurodani academy group takes turns hosting training sessions but shinzen always hosts the week-long ones. we just do a bunch of practice matches and try to improve our skill and technique basically

kenma

hmmm

oh cool

do we have to stay at shinzen high?

kenma

not if you don't want to

yaku

I think karasuno is staying at shinzen since they live in Miyagi

inuoka

were you planning on staying inside the school?

no can't afford to

have too much stuff to do at home

kai

understandable

taking care of your little sister?

and mother

shinzen isn't that far from my house anyways I can just walk there

lev

if you live near shinzen

why don't you just go to school there?

kuroo

shut up lev

I like cats better

kuroo

authentic