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sehodreams · 9 months ago

Text

come inside of my heart

TW and Tags: all consensual, smut, fluff (corny moments, sorry), porn with plot(?), making out sessions, weird characters(?), fingering, Seunghan overthinking, mutual pining(?), corruption kink(?), p in v, oral sex (both receiving), dom!Seunghan, friends with benefits(?)(more like classmates with benefits).

WC: 14k (I’M.SO.SORRY)

Summary: Seunghan has a problem with letting people stay close to him for long, so when he meets you, he expects his interest to fade like it usually does, but this time things seem to be different.

Comment: Again, another weird story that didn’t end or go like I expected, my head it’s kind of weird while writing idk, I wanted it to be a story of Seunghan plainly fucking reader so much she couldn’t think anymore, but it still has porn. Also, I think this should be under a fantasy category because it’s so idealistic hahahaha.

Yeah, I should stop writing on my laptop because these stories have gone from 4k to 10k+ and my mind can’t take it, and I'm sorry, but after this, I'm taking at least a two-day break, I wasn't going to let it win but it did suck my whole soul, so Seunghan better comes back soon, let's think this is an early celebration.

Pd: I did a bit of proofreading but not much, only at the end because I realized that I always write everything in past, and suddenly it was all in present and it was so weird.

Seunghan, unlike what many think, gets easily bored of people.

He doesn't know if it has something to do with his mbti or whatever people talked about those days, but what he knows is that, since he was young, he’s liked to know people, but he also got quickly tired of them.

For him, it was easy to start the communication, and with that he doesn’t mean being the first one saying hello or introducing himself, he hated being the one making the first step, but he liked to be the first one doing the real questions. Seunghan would prefer to say he was naturally curious, but he wasn’t, he wanted to know what people’s hobbies and thoughts were with the purpose of learning how to behave and what to say to them, because more than curious, he liked to be liked.

There wasn’t anything he disliked more than useless problems and uncomfortable moments with people he didn’t care enough about, so for his own peace, and to maintain the harmony around him, he preferred to just please others.

He knew he had a talent not many had, making people comfortable came to him almost like breathing, and, therefore, many wanted to stay around him, but not many got the privilege of staying for long.

It was hard to keep him entertained, so it was common to see different people flying around him, whether he was the one talking or listening, it didn’t matter, people felt attracted to his presence, and he enjoyed the attention even when he didn’t say anything at all, so he let them approach him, but if they didn’t have anything else to offer than their company, he’d go and find another person that picked his interest until he got bored and repeated the cycle again. Still, even knowing they wouldn’t last long, everyone wanted to stay by his side, and they would work hard for it, but if Seunghan didn’t want them in his space, he’d softly push them away by filling their roles with other characters, and not finding their place beside him anymore, they’d slowly leave him without making a scene.

To your luck, or disgrace, you somehow had caught his interest this time.

As expected, after you caught his attention, he decided to dig as much as he could about you, however, what was unexpected, was the kind of person you were and how you caught his attention.

He had a type for everything, at his age he knew enough about what he usually liked. He liked smart opinionated people who always had something to say, he liked how being seen with them always elevated his status and profile in everyone else’s eyes, so they were most of the people that always flocked with him, and of course, that included pretty girls with energetic voices. The way they would follow the conversation with witty remarks and would understand his humour left a lingering feeling of satisfaction he tried to savour as long as he could when he flirted with them, and he couldn't deny it, he was a sucker for pretty faces, he loved the way their smiles would shine and illuminate the room, and how they matched his eagerness for the public attention.

Surprisingly, in the curse of his life, he hasn't had a ton of dates, he’s had his fair share of relationships and an impressive quantity of received confessions, but he carefully chose who to give such opportunity to before he decided to accept the other's feelings. Going out with him had to bring something into his life for him to decide they were good enough to receive his time and effort, and since he knew how easily he could get tired of them, they had to make him think that he would enjoy their presence for at least a decent period of time.

He's never had to chase anyone, he's always been the chased one, or he was until you arrived, and what bothered his mind every time he ran to you was that you weren't his style at all.

You didn’t check any of his boxes.

In first place, you weren't energetic at all. You never matched his conversations with equal happiness, you didn't understand his jokes most of the time and you didn't even try to continue the flow of his conversations. With no remarks and no comments, you'd let the contact die as soon as you could, which always itched something in the back of his head. He can even remember what your first messages looked like. He would send two or three lines of whatever went through his mind, being extremely polite to you as his classmate, wishing to be on your good side, and you would answer with the driest ok he had ever seen in his life.

Hi, just a quick question, what do you think about moving the meetings to my house? I think it'd be better for all of us since none of them would have to pay for coffee and I have everything we might need in my place, it's just something that went through my mind and I wanted to send it to the group chat but I know you live kind of far from here so I wanted to ask you first, so what do you think?

He still gets annoyed when he remembers your past messages.

In second place, you weren't the bright person he usually liked to hang out with. You would never make anyone turn back to see you twice, sometimes they wouldn't notice you even if you were in front of them, and you'd often get ignored if he didn't repeat your comments while working together, which honestly impressed him since you only talked if you had something useful to say, so he would expect others to stay silent when you showed intentions of entering the conversation, but your voice would simply get lost between everyone spitting random ideas and opinions that were rather pointless. You were still kind enough to answer each of them before everyone followed your ideas, receiving no appreciation back from anyone, and it did bother him to see that happening every meeting, hoping that at some point everyone would learn to shut up and give you your time, but it bothered him even more to see that you didn’t care if they listened to you or not.

At least, after a couple of meetings, it was almost established that his seat would be always next to you because no one, except him, found being near you important.

And last but not least, your face wasn't his type. You weren't ugly, but you weren't the prettiest girl in the room either. You were rather normal with your round brown eyes and your dark hair, unlike the girls with caramel eyes and smooth hair that always looked as if they just arrived from a hair salon appointment, you simply had no spark, and you didn't try to get one either. You would wear plain clothes with no sense of style, only thinking in your comfort instead of what others said behind your back, and he couldn’t imagine himself going hand in hand with you looking that way.

Seunghan almost never got involved with people like you, dull and boring. He was sure that if it wasn’t for the project, he wouldn’t have learned your name, and if it wasn’t for the unexpected turn of events, you’d have ended like one of the numerous faceless people in his past.

The way you slowly and effortlessly took a spot in his head was unconventional. Unlike the continuous messages and invitations most people did to get closer to him, you only did your stuff, working on your tasks and lending a hand if anyone asked for help, but it was kind of endearing how someone who looked so uninterested in everyone else and their opinions would work hard to help if needed. Even if they ignored you most of the time, you had no resentment at all, and when Seunghan asked you if you minded that they called for you that much, your answer was so short it made him analyze each of your words for days, ‘’Well, the work has to be done’’.

He wanted to know if you were a fool letting yourself be taken advantage of or if you simply wanted to end things as fast as you could, and he was inclining more into the latest seeing your blank face writing over your keyboard and yawning unbothered when most of them had left and you stayed to finish their parts because, just like you had said, I won’t open the document once I cross your door.

‘’Aren’t you mad?’’ he then asked.

‘’Not really, why would I get mad?’’ you said without stopping your work.

‘’I don’t know, I just feel like you should’’ Seunghan bit his lip and watched you skillfully go through the document introducing commas and changing words, not wanting to interrupt you but doing it anyways because he couldn’t stay with the doubt in his mind, ‘’don’t you ever get mad?’’

‘’Uhmm no’’ you answered without stopping your work, ‘’I do get mad, I don’t mind correcting other’s work on the computer, but I hate washing other’s dishes.’’

That makes sense, he thought, because you never offered yourself to help him wash everyone’s cups once they left you two alone, and he didn’t realize it until that moment, but the common thing would’ve been to at least offer yourself to take them to the kitchen, thing you never did.

Another question popped into his mind.

‘’Don’t you work in a restaurant?’’ he, after a long time, asked.

‘’Yeah’’

He laughed for days when that conversation replayed in his head.

A routine had been formed after many reunions. Every member of the group would go to his house each Thursday for a couple of hours to show what they had advanced for the big project and the little work the professor left through the semester. You’d arrive a couple of minutes earlier than them since you finished your shift in the restaurant you worked at, and you’d stay there silently scrolling your phone while he revised the shared document. Then, when they all left, you would stay to check with him his work, he trusting you to respectfully correct him and help him just like you did with the others.

It was one of those numerous late nights that, whatever you had, started.

You were biting your lower lip while reading his paragraphs, making a couple of changes every now and then, not paying him any attention on your side, and he doesn’t know what went through his mind, you were calmly doing your own thing, you weren’t any different than usual, with your plain t-shirt and your glasses reflecting the screen light, no colour on your cheeks and hair strings poking out of your ponytail, when his hand moved on its own, accommodating them behind your ear.

Your hands immediately paralyzed, and your eyes stayed glued to the sentence you were about to change, surprised by his sudden action.

‘’Sorry,’’ he apologized, feeling surprised even with himself for doing that.

‘’It’s okay’’ you said and continued.

When you finished his part, you quickly grabbed your things and left, leaving him alone in his apartment with a sour taste in his mouth, repeating in his head how stupid he was for not being able to control his own hand.

You didn’t mention anything about it to anyone, and not that he had thought you would go and scream it to the public, but there was something that told him to be careful with you from that moment on, because you weren’t his prospect, and he couldn’t let you catch unnecessary feelings for him.

The next time you stayed to check his work, he kissed you.

His mind couldn’t function with you around. You, again, had done nothing different from usual, you sat beside him focused on your screen the whole time, correcting his progress, acting as if nothing had happened, making him feel like the only one overthinking the past situation. You showed no interest in him and he had repeated in his head that he should be careful with you that afternoon, he was so into it that when you arrived, instead of sitting beside you until the others got there, he went to his kitchen and rewashed the cups he gave each of them, yet when everyone had left and you were saying something about him reading a certain book to write more about the topic in his part, his hand moved to your neck, and making you face him, he pressed his lips over yours.

He had never done that before, he had never stolen a kiss, even less from someone who showed no interest in him, with no previous flirt and tons of flattering messages directed to him making clear that he could go for it.

You were reluctant at first, not corresponding to his lips movement, mouth hard like a stone. That almost threw him off, but when he was about to leave you, your mouth finally opened to him, letting him interlock his lips with yours, stealing some of your air and sensing the rare softness you had, a touch of inexperience with coffee flavour.

So smart for everything except that, he felt like he could finally teach you something, and that fired the last doubt inside him.

From that day on, every time you went to his house, he would kiss you until everyone else arrived, leaving you with glossy eyes and a different air around you that they noticed but commented nothing about, and when they left and you finished with the last touches of the document, he’d kiss you again, making you bolder and bolder to accept him with every session.

If he went to his kitchen and tapped your hand you would follow him without a word, if the last person about to leave went to the bathroom he wouldn’t doubt to quickly kiss you before they came back, and if you were doing nothing while waiting, he only had to walk to your side for you to lift your eyes and met his lips.

You showed no eagerness to start the kisses, but you always received him with appetite, and that was enough for him to not want to stop.

His preoccupation about you saying something was long forgotten, just in those meetings, even when it was only the two of you, you said no word about the kisses, a silent pact to keep what you had in secret and only behind his doors.

Also, another thing that helped him go around campus with an easy mind was that you showed no intention to change yourself. Usually, when he dated girls they would put more effort into their appearances, they would ask him to buy couple accessories to show off what they were, and then they would match his style, introducing clothes with colours he liked or constantly wore into their wardrobe, like a distinction to show off they were with him, but you didn’t try to do any of that at all, going around with the same clothes, not asking for a single thing from him, not even taunting the idea of having a shared accessory.

You weren’t dating, he knew you didn’t think you were a couple at all, so maybe that was why.

You didn’t ask him what you were, you didn’t pressure him into asking you out, or even insinuate that you liked him. He didn’t understand how you didn’t put any of those cards on the table, you had the chance every time you went to his house, but you didn’t. Seunghan couldn’t understand how you, unlike others, even himself, had no interest in grabbing the opportunity of getting a higher status and being the centre of everyone’s attention, by being with him you could escalate the pyramid, but it seemed like the invisible pyramid he always saw in his head was the last of your concerns.

He was kind of grateful that you didn’t see the point in telling others what you were doing in his living room because thanks to that he felt relaxed beside you. He knew you wouldn’t tell anyone if he did anything wrong, if his lips were too dry when he kissed you, if maybe he was using too much tongue, if his nose kept bumping yours, he didn’t feel the need to think each of his movements or to keep his perfect image, and that finally let him breath and discover how he liked to kiss, helping you discover how you liked it in the way too.

I need to breathe, I want to push my tongue more, can I bite your lip?

Both of you would sometimes throw questions in the middle of the sessions, and none of you judged each other if one wanted to try something new or wanted a break, but they were almost always short ones, enough for you to inhale air for a couple of seconds before Seunghan went back for it.

However, even if he thought the situation was perfect with you not asking for more from him in terms of the pseudo-relationship, he had started to do it without noticing.

Again, he knew how to make people comfortable, and after getting to know you all those days alone, he understood that the best thing to maintain you at ease was directly not trying to hold intruding conversations, but now instead of ignoring you until the next reunion like he always did the first times, he’d send you texts asking if you were going to class or if you had seen the new thing one of the members had written in the shared document, and then when you answered him, he would sneak a personal question in the chat, How was your shift? Did you eat already? What are you doing?

Not thinking too much about it, you gave concise replies and then forgot about him if he didn’t continue with his questions, but you had started to notice his change too, not understanding why he had decided to act like that out of nowhere.

You thought his interest in you was based more on the lack of your enthusiasm to have him around after you two were done, and your indifference to his actions outside his apartment, you thought it was that at least, reason why you felt weirded out every time he asked personal stuff.

You had no expectations of him, you convinced yourself it wasn’t worth it, and you did wish for his touch, but not for his words, not even for his ear to listen to you and agree with what you had to say. You were merely there, ready to accept his lips over yours and ready to leave his house as free as when you entered, which made him strangely confident whenever he was with you, but uneasy when you weren’t.

Still, even if you didn’t try to sustain anything with him, you’d do what he asked you to without doubt, like sitting over his lap when he patted his thighs, or walking to his kitchen when he said he wanted your company until the others arrived.

‘’Why did you arrive so early?’’ he asked one day between kisses. Your soft lips caressing his made him think you had prepared to receive him that afternoon, filling his mind with the idea of you hoping to see him earlier that day and the image of you applying lip balm before crossing his door.

He had you over his counter, your boring and plain blue jeans letting him thrust his clothed erection and enjoy the pressure, but not allowing him to differentiate the form of your cunt over him. That day he was getting impatient with not putting in, the idea had gone through his mind since your last meeting, but you hadn’t shown any intention of fucking him, so he contained himself. That was a step he wasn’t sure he should take alone. Unlike kissing, fucking you would bring another level of intimacy to the dynamic, and he doubted you would continue being the same after that, you were only a girl at the end.

‘’Coworker arrived early’’ you answered. Short, clear, and concise.

You didn’t try to satisfy his greed with an I missed you or an I wanted to see you, you let things go on their own flow, and he liked how fresh everything was with you, almost laughable of how unique your honesty was, and he wanted to keep it like that.

‘’I see’’ he smiled, a part of him disappointed but at the same time relieved.

He trusted you to always tell him the truth, even if sometimes brought him back to reality and humbled a little, he felt better knowing you wouldn’t feed his delusions with pleasant lies.

Everything was going well, each of you without mixing their lives apart from the Thursday afternoon in his house and the short conversations by text, and he was able to contain himself without problem, until that day.

Seunghan rarely had a problem with people from his past, usually once he cut the contact with them, they would get tired of reaching out to him, but this guy was one of the few pesters he couldn’t shake off.

He had been his school classmate in his last year, and Seunghan thought he wouldn’t have to see him again ever again after graduation, but he still called him every now and then to ask him to hang out.

Seunghan definitely had better things to do, but having met him outside his campus and saying hi while he was with his other friends, the boy dragged him into having dinner with other old classmates, making him think that maybe it’d be a good occasion to see old friends again, just a light conversation before they all went to do their own thing.

Seunghan should’ve known better at that point that an asshole would never change.

Arriving at one of the numerous restaurants near his house, he thought that at least, if he got bored, he could quickly escape with an excuse.

At a table on a corner there was his old classmate waiting for him, and the minute he saw that the table was just for two, Seunghan knew no one else would appear.

He tried to run away, but once the other made eye contact with him, it was too late.

‘’Hey man’’ the other greeted him.

Seunghan had no option but to sit.

Immediately he sat the other started to ramble about himself.

Trying to distract himself while the other talked, Seunghan directed his whole attention to the menu.

It was a normal chicken place that worked as a pub at night for groups to drink and play until late, he could already hear a few other people chanting for members to have shots and ordering more and more alcohol, the music was nice and the light was perfect to feel comfortable getting drunk without feeling judged, making him think that, if the other hadn’t lied, he could’ve had a good time with his old friends.

‘’Welcome, what can I get for you?’’

Seunghan instantly recognized your presence, your voice, your aroma, everything.

His eyes shot up and he looked at you, trying to distinguish if it was really you or his mind was playing him a bad (not so bad since he was glad) joke, but there you were, the one and only you.

You were wearing the kind of clothes you’d always wear but with an apron over them and a tag on your chest with your name, clearly showing that you worked there. Unlike him, you didn’t show any surprise to see him, keeping the stoic expression you always had, and the corners of his lips went up without him noticing, a smile almost taking control of his mouth, happy to see you out of the classroom or his living room, but no word came out of him.

Should he greet you like he wanted? Should he call your name and say what a surprise? Should he say he didn’t know you worked there? Because he really didn’t know.

Questions accumulated inside his head, and missing his chance, his old classmate ordered for both, and you, not displaying any disappointment or happiness or any feeling at all, left them alone.

Seunghan started to feel even more down, firmly believing that you decided to pretend you didn’t know him, was that what you wanted? To not know him out of his house?

He knew you would never act giddy to see him, you would never scream his name and run to his arms if you saw him on the other side of the street, but he had hoped that you would at least say hi, to acknowledge you knew each other, after all, you were classmates, and he didn’t want you to act like one of the girls that had a crush on him, but he didn’t want you to ignore him either.

‘’So, what do you say?’’ the annoying guy brought him out of his thinking.

‘’Sorry, what did you say? I couldn’t hear you with the music’’ Seunghan was lost the minute the other started to yap, and he didn’t feel like hearing him anymore, but the least he could do was be polite enough until he said goodbye, the last thing he needed was to hear how the other spread into the chats that Seunghan was full of himself now that he was in college, but the boy didn’t help him to stay calm at all.

Even with the big sign inside every restaurant saying that it was forbidden to smoke in shared spaces, he put a cigarette in his mouth and held it while he searched for his lighter.

‘’My friend has a booth in this club and a ton of pretty girls go all the time, you should come with me, we’ll have fun, and if we’re lucky, a better after night’’ he laughed while lighting it.

Seunghan didn’t want to meet him exactly because of that. They never shared interests, he was a lost cause always living in parties ever since they were in school, and Seunghan could say no to those outings when he was a minor, but since graduation, the other had been more and more insistent now that Seunghan didn’t have enough reasons to reject him anymore.

The other, just like when they were in school, wanted him to show up, attract a bunch of pretty girls and trap one of them to fuck them with his friendship with him as an excuse to appear more desirable.

‘’Sorry, I have class tomorrow early’’ Seunghan said, and trying to fan the smoke from his cigarette the other way, coughed before he continued, ‘’I think we should leave if you want to smoke, there’s a big sign that says not to smoke inside’’.

‘’Don’t worry about that, but talking about leaving, I think you should come with me, my friend always pays for all our drinks.’’

Shit, he started to think. Seunghan perfectly knew that tactic, typical from guys like him with no charm and no capacity to attract a girl that was in their full senses.

He hated that kind of guy, and not wanting to stay with one of them in front of you, he started to plan an excuse to leave, needing to go home and forget that night ever happened.

The other didn’t stop talking or showed any sign of putting off the nicotine stick, making him bite the inside of his cheek anxious with the idea of bringing you problems since you’d have to tell his friend that he couldn’t do that there, and knowing him, he wouldn’t stay quiet with a mere waitress telling him what he could and couldn’t do.

‘’I really think you should put that out’’ Seunghan interrupted him after a couple of minutes. The other was already in half his cigarette and Seunghan had resigned in having to put his pretty clean shirt in the dirty laundry because the smell of his cheap little vice was already impregnated in the fabric that used to have the warm and fruity aroma of his softener.

‘’Don’t be such a bummer man, light up a little’’ he joked. ‘’I’ll tell you something, if you come with me, I’ll stop, what do you say’’.

Seunghan found his offer tempting, but if he couldn’t escape there, how would he escape from the club? Well, he could get lost in the middle of all the people, and he had already decided that he would take a shower again to clean the smell of the cigarette, so it didn’t sound too bad after he contemplated the idea.

‘’Hey, go and fuck yourself, he already said he doesn’t want to go.’’

His friend almost choked with the smoke he was holding inside his mouth when he heard you, and Seunghan’s eyes opened while his mouth and thoughts completely shut down.

‘’What the- do you know her?’’ the last question was directed to Seunghan and he didn’t know what to say, his head almost shook saying no like instinct, but he stopped himself before doing it, staying still.

‘’He doesn’t have to know me, everyone here can hear how you’re trying to force him into going with you, so let him alone before I tell my boss you’re smoking here when that big ass poster clearly says you can’t, or apart from not listening you can’t read either?’’

You said all that without an ounce of fear and Seunghan couldn’t understand what was that feeling that had started to grow inside his chest, was that embarrassment for not being able to talk for himself? or embarrassment for being seen with someone like that guy? He wasn’t sure at that moment, but what he noticed was that it was mixed with another thing, annoyance. However, he didn’t know if it was with himself or with the stupid brat in front of him, and it increased once the other stood up from his seat and tried to lift his hand at you.

It was impossible the guy punched you, but just the idea of him touching you with a single finger made him interfere, something he never did.

Seunghan’s body moved on its own and grabbed him before he tried to even brush you, dragging him outside without giving you a second glance.

You didn’t flinch at all, you had met tons of worse clients, he was nothing to you, and you’d have probably ignored the whole situation if it wasn’t that Seunghan looked so troubled sitting there. You had a pact with yourself to not butt in situations that had nothing to do with you, but you knew Seunghan, he couldn’t say a frankly no for the sake of looking good, and he could easily lead people into leaving him in peace, but the other boy had bad news written all over his face, and you doubted someone as pacific as Seunghan could use his tactics with him.

You watched the drinks on the table, two untouched beers that your manager would ask why they stayed like that there, alone, and unpaid, and you just hoped that little spur of bravery didn’t bring you problems with anyone else.

Outside the restaurant Seunghan left the other guy’s arm free and, scrunching to touch his knees with the palms of his hands, he exhaled to control himself.

He started to count in his head, repeating It’s okay, It’s okay, to convince himself that nothing had happened.

‘’Woah I should talk to the owner, how could she talk to a customer like that, that girl shouldn’t be a waitress.’’

It’s not okay.

Rage started to fill him and for the first time, he felt tempted to use his punch over someone else.

‘’Don’t call me ever again.’’

Seunghan started his way to his house, not looking back, feeling that, if he saw his face again, he wouldn’t be able to control his hand from not flying directly to the other’s eye.

When Seunghan arrived at his house he saw one of the numerous flyers on his entrance, right next to the plate where he left his keys and any little thing that he received or bought on the street, recognizing the name of the restaurant where you worked at, and just there a memory came to his mind, you leaving that little paper with an ugly old design, sighing and saying I don’t know if I’m cursed or anything, but my work seems to never leave me alone.

Now he understood why when he saw the direction the other had sent, he felt so eager to go, because even if he couldn’t remember it, his body did it for him, wanting to be near you.

He tossed his shirt into the laundry. He had worn it that day believing it would still be clean enough the next day and he’d be able to wear it in front of all the group, but especially, in front of you, and when he tried to sleep, but the whole night the only thing that occupied his mind was how would you see him that afternoon.

When the clock marked the hour in which you usually arrived, he started to clean his table, again. He had already spent most of his morning cleaning his place to receive the group, but he didn’t know how to stay still with the memory of the disastrous previous night. He kept wondering, what would you say? Would you think he was like his friend? Impossible. Would you pretend nothing happened like you always did? That seemed pretty possible.

He kept convincing himself to not bother you with questions on his part, like, would you always act like you didn’t know him in the streets? Did he have to ignore you every time he saw you out there? Did you think he was pathetic for not being able to give a straight no? Because he thinking it was enough to torment his night, and sure the next ones would have him meeting the same fate too.

His watch alarm sounded while he was dusting his couch pillows for the third time, making him feel anxious because it usually sounded when you were already there, with him, accepting his kisses and his hands grasping your body as much as he allowed himself.

You didn’t arrive until much later when all the other guys were already there.

At least you took your seat beside him like you always did, making him feel at ease a little bit.

It wasn’t enough, Seunghan felt his hands sweating and he couldn’t stop his leg from moving under the table, so after many lost minutes, he decided it was enough, and tapping your hand he signalled the way to his kitchen, telling you to follow him in silence.

Thankfully, and as expected, you didn’t protest, leaving everyone else concentrating on their own stuff.

When you two got to his kitchen, you perfectly knowing your way at that point after so many afternoons watching him move around, to get busy, you filled his kettle with water to boil it and make more coffee, to have an excuse for disappearing from his living room.

‘’Did you get in trouble after we left?’’ Seunghan started.

You played with the force of the fire in his kitchen, and finally leaving it as high as possible, you answered.

‘’Not really.’’

‘’Will they cut the beers from your pay?’’

‘’Nah, you can have a couple of drinks for free a day, so my coworkers had them.’’

The way you looked so recollected should’ve brought him peace, you didn’t get in trouble, which was good, a happy ending, but he got more stressed.

‘’Why did you get involved?’’ he asked the one thing that bothered him the most the last night.

‘’Are you really asking me that?’’ you laughed, ‘’I just felt like doing it.’’

‘’But why.’’

‘’Why do you care so much Seunghan? I’m sorry if I brought you problems, I didn’t mean to, okay?’’ you wanted to leave the topic behind, so you didn’t look at him, nails busy scratching a point of dust off his counter.

You, just like Seunghan, hated getting involved in uncomfortable situations, but unlike him, you didn’t have the ability to swiftly change topics or help everyone involved feel better, resorting to abruptly trying to end discussions with apologies, to then ignore the problem.

That irritated him, how you avoided his eyes and tried to keep yourself busy to not take your part in the situation.

Seconds passed by, and he could hear the water starting to boil, so he knew he wouldn’t have much time until the others started to wonder what you two were doing in his kitchen alone.

His hand grabbed yours when he got tired of you not looking at him, but you kept your eyes down, directing them to his floor titles this time.

‘’Look at me’’ he ordered, and you, not being able to not follow his words, looked up at him.

The silence wasn’t like the one you had when you arrived, it was tense, and it had started to pick on your nerves, pushing you to talk again. ‘’He was bothering you, and you looked uncomfortable, I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to intervene.’’

His grip on you got softer and he exhaled through his nose, a tenderness installing on his chest with your eyes looking at him and your voice wavering but finally answering his question.

He then felt bad, he was no one to talk to you like that, and he never had discussions like that either. He knew how to keep the waters calm and get the other person to participate in the talk, making them feel heard and making them listen to what he had to say, but with you he forgot how to do that, carrying the conversation to another direction instead of the one he wanted to take. ‘’No, I’m sorry, I just wanted to thank you, I don’t know why it sounded as if I was complaining’’ he said, mind not as foggy anymore.

‘’I’m sorry’’ you said again, making him smile this time, because both of you would never stop saying sorry if he didn’t change the tone of the conversation.

‘’Thank you for helping me’’ he said to leave everything behind on good terms.

You nodded, air less tense and comfortable enough for him to move his body closer to you, and hand in hand, cornering you to his counter, after you moved your eyes from his eyes to his lips, he felt as if he had permission to take his Thursday kiss, giving you a peck, to then leave other, and other, until they stopped being just pecks and converted into a deep one.

His other hand went to your waist, playing with the hem of your long plain t-shirt, they never let him sneak a hand to touch the skin inside because of how long they were, and that kind of bothered him, but at the same time it made him smile with his lips over yours, liking the softness all your clothes had.

He had changed his softener to yours after you told him what you used, it was a cheap brand, but it does the job, and he liked to share something as banal as that with you.

The kettle whistle didn’t make him stop, and with the same hand playing with your clothes, he turned off the kitchen, so it didn’t sound anymore.

He had to prepare the new round of coffee for everyone outside, so after a last long-lasting peck, he let you go, but with one last order before you went outside to sit with everyone else.

‘’Don’t pretend to not know me in public.’’

Time went flying after that, and finally able to concentrate, he wrote as much as he could while waiting for everyone to leave you two alone to continue your routine.

When all of them left, you surprised him once again.

Standing with him, you grabbed a couple of cups to take to the kitchen with him, making him grin because that was just so uncharacteristic of you, and he knew you wanted something else to happen.

In his kitchen, alone, you stayed beside him watching him wash the cups and everything he had used that afternoon while he talked about the book you had recommended to him, and once he finished, he dried his hands on the towel you handed him, to then push you to his kitchen counter and taste you.

Your lips he had missed for a week had a different flavour, sweeter this time, still kind of bitter because of the coffee, but there was just something else.

Perhaps it was because you started the kiss this time, pulling his belt until his chest was touching yours and his eyes looked down at you with attention, or perhaps it was simply something else that he didn’t know, maybe you put more sugar in your drink? He didn’t care enough to keep guessing.

One hand going to cup your cheek while the other roamed your waist, he sighed when over your lips when a whimper left your mouth.

His hips were getting impatient, and he had started to thrust onto your clothed sex without thinking, but it was an automatic motion his body did for him, not that he had thought for so many days how your sweet insides would feel, or taste.

He wouldn’t fuck you; he had decided that.

Kisses were more than enough, he tried to convince himself.

But Hong Seunghan was just a man, and mere kisses were never going to be enough, so pulling apart, he tried to think he was stronger than what he really was, and he really tried it, until you grabbed his hand to cup you.

‘’Are you sure?’’ he asked you, hand cupping your pussy harder but still decided to let you go if you didn’t want it.

He had stolen a kiss from you before, but doing something like that without your firm approbation was too much for him.

‘’Just do it Seunghan’’ you replied, opening your legs for him even more.

You were wearing jeans and the rough material felt good against his clothed erection, but not against his hand, so he opened your button and pushed his hand inside your underwear, feeling your clit and drawing the direction your lips showed him to find your entrance.

‘’You’re wet, been thinking about me?’’ He murmured against your ear.

Your tailbone was against the hard marble counter of his kitchen, feeling the border of it sink strongly against you, but it felt so good to have his hand touching you there while he whispered right next to your ear.

He had you opening your legs for him while he situated himself beside you, one leg between yours, his right hand smearing your arousal, and the other gripping the counter to not get too lost in you.

You didn’t answer, ashamed of letting more embarrassing noises out when he was just taunting you.

He wasn’t doing anything, just feeling you with the palm of his hand, and you still felt something forming in the pitch of your stomach you had never felt with anyone before.

Seunghan knew you were a virgin, he was the one who taught you how to give open-mouthed kisses after all, but you never imagined he would be the one making you feel that way.

You two were so different, you had seen him walking around campus with his friends, his sole presence making everyone turn their heads to him, you would’ve never expected to end in a situation like this one with him, or that he’d be the one taking all the first steps.

‘’Stop laughing’’ you said when he continued still.

You had weeks of building up, going home with your panties dripping after he kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, you needed more, but he wasn’t taking the first step anymore, only kissing you, rutting his boner in your entrance and letting you go with a painful smile.

You were too proud to tell him you wanted more, and you wouldn’t have followed him to his kitchen with the cups of coffee if you hadn’t had enough.

Never helping him that way, tired of doing it every day at your job, you thought this was the time.

This was the time before everything fell apart.

You knew how fragile human relationships were, reason why you didn’t want to have a boyfriend or anything like that before.

You had seen in first person how people could change from one day to another, and how anything, didn’t matter how deep looked like, could end in a blink.

Yesterday you felt it was over, you thought that Seunghan would push you away and the make-out sessions would never happen again, but he had kissed you, so you decided to take the first step to feel him more before everything ended.

You thought, everything would finish at one point in time, and if it wasn’t because of a discussion, it would be when the project was over, whatever happened first, so you didn’t have enough time to be proud anymore.

His hand moving brought you out of your thinking, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, you felt his fingertips brushing your clit, sending a shiver through your spine and making you open your mouth, surprised.

‘’Feels good, right?’’ he asked with a smile, drawing circles and feeling as good as you just by looking at your face showing exactly all you were feeling.

Mouth open and eyebrows frown, you let him do what he wanted with you, trusting his experience to take you to an unknown place.

‘’Answer’’ he ordered, stopping his fingers from pressing that little bud and making you shook your head.

‘’Yes, it feels good’’ you answered, letting your head fall to his shoulder and sighing before grabbing his wrist to move it again, but he was a lot stronger, and you could only wrap your hand around him, not being able to close your fingers of how big he was.

Although he had pretty hands, they were still manly, strong, and a lot bigger than yours, and moving his hand again, he showed you the pace you should take when he wasn’t with you, but you doubted you’d be able to feel the same way if it wasn’t his hand the one touching you.

‘’Remember, just like this’’ he said, flicking his index on your clit and making you whimper.

He had that fucking grin on his face the whole time and you couldn’t dare to look at him, feeling at disadvantage to his knowledge.

You were smart, you knew a lot of things, you proofread his work, you checked everyone’s work, and you know you’re always right when you answer questions, but right there you were nothing compared to him, and that made you furious, but it calmed you at the same time.

He might have that grin, but he was treating you so well, softly showing you how real pleasure felt like, you doubted you would’ve felt that comfortable with anyone else in that situation.

Pushing one finger inside, the middle one, he let the other fingers rest while his thumb continued with the caresses to your clit.

Your panties were slightly pushed down with the way he was touching you, and the hard marble was now touching directly at your skin, but the cold sensation of it with the warmness of his hand made everything better, making you stay focused on what was happening the whole time.

‘’Oh god,’’ you cried when his finger started thrusting your entrance.

The spongy and smooth texture of your walls welcomed him without problem, and he cursed at how good you felt.

Getting dizzy, he thought about how you would receive him, how you’d wrap him, and how he would make you used to his size since he’d be the first person fucking you, which filled his chest with something else he couldn’t recognize, was that happiness? It was more like relief.

But it also terrified him.

The need that was increasing inside him to have you near, close to him, with him, it terrified him.

He’s not used to that kind of emotion, he feels tired of people, he knows that, but would he become tired of you?

‘’Seunghan,’’ you moaned his name, pushing your hips down to his hand so he fucked you with his finger again.

He looked at your face, eyes glossy and red lips after all the kisses and how you bit them to not cry out loud, and he added one more.

‘’Why did you get involved yesterday?’’ he asked you again.

You couldn’t understand his words, it resonated inside your mind, but you couldn’t think of an exact answer with his fingers fucking you harder and faster.

‘’I couldn’t let him… he was bothering you…’’ you said as you could.

‘’Good’’ he said, still fingering you, ‘’Will you ignore me outside again?’’

You were moving in unison with his hand, meeting him each time he pushed his fingers and his palm pressed your clit.

‘’No,’’ you cried, feeling that tight sensation form in your abdomen again, more intense, painful.

‘’Good, now cum’’ he ordered.

You cried on his shoulder pretty loud when he gave you permission, you didn’t know you would need one to have an orgasm, maybe that was why you couldn’t do it on your own, but it was life-changing how real, intense, and amazing, pleasure could be.

Trembling on his chest, your head still on his shoulder, and you trying to catch your breath, he made you face him to leave a couple of pecks on your lips again, almost loving and incredibly peaceful, as if you had done that many times before, making you feel comfy on his presence and with his hand still prying inside your underwear.

A couple of minutes later he helped you pull up your jeans again, but they were a mess, so he made you follow him to the laundry room and gave you a pair of clean boxers.

‘’Better than nothing’’ you said when he apologized for not having anything better.

He gave you a pair of his numerous grey pants and seeing how you were struggling to keep them in place, offered to walk you to the bus stop just in case.

‘’You looked good yesterday’’ you said to fill the silence after many minutes.

Seunghan regretted having offered to keep you company to the stop, walking on an uncomfortable silence that seemed to only affect him, you completely calm beside him, but when you said that, he smiled, feeling glad for doing something different for once.

‘’You too, that apron fits you’’ he said in a teasing tone. For him, it felt like flirting, for you, it felt like it too, but you weren’t used to it, so you only nodded and didn’t talk until your bus arrived.

Even if none of you said it, something had changed in the air after that.

When you met in the corridors, first he’d look at you from the distance, debating if he should get closer and talk or not, but then after much thinking (and many days doing the same thing, staring from feet away), he decided that saying hi to his classmate wasn’t anything out of the world.

The first time your eyes met his and he, instead of looking the other way, walked to you, you thought that something wrong was about to happen, sending a nervous shiver and making you grip onto your backpack straps.

‘’Hey, how was class?’’ he asked, just standing next to you while you waited for your water bottle to be filled.

‘’It was okay’’ you said, still not daring to see his face.

The first times were incredibly uncomfortable, but soon you got used to that, it was just talking after all, nothing special, so you let him talk to you about whatever crossed his mind until he was called by someone in his group, and you had started to accept him more, trying to maintain a decent conversation at least, all innocent and he being cordial with one of his many classmates.

In his house, however, he’d corner you and get you all heated until the others arrived, and when they left, he’d finger you until you came over his hand and cried on his neck.

You didn’t say anything when that happened, accepting him just like when he kissed you the first weeks, and like that, another routine had been formed.

From the first time he gave you a pair of his boxers, he washed your dirty pair of panties to give them back to you the next time he saw you, but that next time you’d leave another dirty pair again (more like, he would snatch them from your hands before you could say anything), changing into the clean pair he had washed, so the new routine would consist in you cumming over his fingers, leaving your wet underwear, and he washing it to have it ready for you the next time.

He never told you because you didn’t ask, but every time you left your panties, he would smell your orgasm on them, jerking off with the picture of you opening your legs for him until he came over the fabric, and appreciating the look of your wet spot with his cum over it, he’d wash them carefully by hand.

You still haven’t fucked.

Things were getting too intimate for Seunghan even if you hadn’t had sex, and he loved it, he loved how you left something yours in his house, he loved to be the only one giving you pleasure, and the only one seeing your face when you had an orgasm, but he had started to ask himself, what did that mean?

He wasn’t your boyfriend, you weren’t his girlfriend, and he enjoyed that silent pact at the start, but so much time had passed that it had started to confuse him.

Next week would be the last reunion before the big presentation, and after that, what would make you go to his house? Did he have to ask you out? Could he really let himself be seen with you in public?

In the confidence of his room, he didn’t have to give anyone an explanation, not even you since you never asked for one, but out there he doubted it could stay like that. He could already notice how people looked at him when he talked to you in the corridor like a mere classmate, what would they say if they knew all he did to you in his house?

Seunghan was so lost, he couldn’t understand any of his actions, not his body making him run to you in public, his mouth rambling every time he had you near, or what he was doing there in front of your work at that moment.

You could go on your own without problem, you’ve been doing it for weeks, you knew his address and his house like the palm of your hand, so he couldn’t understand why all his thoughts told him to go and wait for you to finish your shift and then walk you to his house.

He was looking down at his feet, dusting the dust out of the floor as if it was his job.

His spotless sneakers were kicking air by that point, and he didn’t know if to stay or leave, telling himself to just walk in and order something and pretend he was passing by.

‘’Seunghan?’’ you asked before he could even decide.

You had a couple of plastic bags on each hand that seemed heavy, sure you didn’t only took orders and washed dishes, but he didn’t imagine they would also send you to buy stuff.

‘’Oh, hey’’ he said, trying to act nonchalant, ‘’I was just passing by…’’ you hadn’t asked anything and he was already giving you an answer ‘’and I remembered your shift was about to end so…’’

He had talked incredibly fast, and you almost didn’t understand the last part, but you heard shift and end, so, blinking, you nodded to his words.

‘’I see’’ you said, and silence came to surround you again, ‘’well, it’s true my shift was about to finish, I just had to leave this inside, we can go together to your house if you want’’.

Seunghan exhaled, thankful for you to talk.

‘’Okay then’’ he smiled, giving a few awkward steps to you.

You were pretty close to the local, you were in front of it and only had to cross the street, yet he couldn’t see you struggling with the bags, so taking them from your hands, he walked you inside, only giving them back because you had to leave them in the kitchen.

Sitting in one of the booths, he checked his phone to wait for you.

It somehow felt natural, waiting for you to then go back to his house, and he had a knot in his throat forming with that thought.

‘’Seunghan?’’ he lifted his gaze from his mindlessly scrolling to see the same old friend he had told to never call him again after the incident, ‘’what are you doing here?’’ he then said, looking at him weird out by seeing him alone.

‘’Soobin…’’ Seunghan murmured, he hadn’t expected to see him at all.

After that day he stopped contacting Seunghan just like he had asked, and he had totally forgotten about him until that moment, making him nervous because Seunghan didn’t know how to act with him anymore now that he had seen his uncool, angry and exasperated side.

‘’Are you waiting for someone?’’ he asked.

Seunghan left his phone on the table and, not knowing what to say, only nodded.

‘’I see… well, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry, I made you go through an uncomfortable moment that day, sorry.’’

Not believing what he had just heard, Seunghan, lost at words, only nodded again.

‘’I was really an asshole’’ he laughed, making Seunghan laugh too.

‘’It’s okay, I shouldn’t have reacted like that, I’m sorry too’’ Seunghan finally said.

Standing and giving him his hand, both of them laughed and punched each other’s shoulders.

‘’But tell me the truth, you know that girl, right? The waitress who told me to go and fuck myself’’ Soobin said, laughing even more with the memory.

Seunghan didn’t know what to answer, pushing both hands to his pockets, he bit the inside of his cheek and, contrary to all he was thinking, denied.

‘’Not really’’ Seunghan said, looking at his feet and seeing the light reflection of his blue shirt over his white sneakers, without thinking he had worn the same shirt he had used that day.

‘’Uhm, if you say so’’ Soobin said unconvinced, ‘’she said you had classes together though.’’

Surprised, Seunghan stayed silent, and before he could explain himself, a girl had called Soobin, who said a quick goodbye and ran to her without looking back.

Seunghan saw the other smile at the girl and take her hand, proudly taking her bag from her and putting it on his shoulder as if it was his own.

He seemed happy, and not like an asshole anymore, what seemed unbelievable until that day, making him think that, maybe he was the only one who would never change.

He didn’t understand why he had denied knowing you, he was the one who told you to not pretend to not know him in public, and you had been true to your words, while he, even if hadn’t promised the same thing, felt like a liar.

You came out minutes later, and he had never been grateful to the world for not having you close at every moment, but in that moment, he was, because at least you hadn’t heard how pathetic he was, again.

‘’My boss gave you this, says thank you for carrying the bags’’ you showed him a can of beer, ‘’tsk, I was the one who carried them all the way here.’’

You looked incredibly offended, and accepting it, Seunghan looked behind you, where a big man met his eyes and gave him a thumbs up before he could say anything, and suddenly, he was laughing from the bottom of his heart again.

You smiled with him for a second, and walking out of the local, he told himself to stop being such a coward.

Walking in silence, Seunghan had both hands on his jeans pockets, while you had them over your backpack handles.

‘’I can carry your backpack if you want’’ Seunghan offered.

You denied, ‘’It’s okay, I can do it.’’

‘’I should be clearer, what I meant to say was that I want to carry your backpack’’ he said.

The sun was going down and he could see the orange lights of the sunset, tons of lights were starting to appear thanks to the numerous businesses around there, and he wanted to look at them, but his entire attention was on the way a little touch of red started to appear on your cheeks.

‘’Okay’’ you said, passing him your backpack and letting him carry it for you.

‘’It’s still early, we can buy some snacks before going, is there anything you want?’’ he asked, sliding his arms on the handles, and letting it sit on his back.

It was a bit tight, used to be carried only by you, but he wore it like he could.

‘’I’m okay, I just had something’’ you tried to not look at him, looking at the pavement instead.

He let you go a step in front of him, you had shorter legs and he had no problem reaching you, but he let you, you seemed to want that little distance, and that way he could also see more things of you he hadn’t noticed before.

Your hands didn’t have anything else to grab now that he was wearing your backpack and they seemed unnatural on your sides playing with nothing. Now that he noticed, you were always doing something with them, whether it was writing on your keyboard, writing something, or simply scratching any surface that you had near, but right there you had nothing, and he thought that maybe, he should hold your hand to fill that emptiness.

Not a maybe anymore, his hand wanted to interlock with yours, and slowly approaching you, he almost touched the side of your left one.

‘’If you want to buy something we can stop in that convenience store’’ you pointed to the store next to you, open and almost empty, and he woke up from all the ideas that were lurking inside his mind. To hold your hand, wasn’t that a bit too much for someone who wasn’t your boyfriend?

‘’Yeah,’’ he said, walking in and buying the first chips he saw just to buy something.

You were waiting for him outside, checking your phone, and he couldn’t stop seeing the way your eyelashes were really dark, and how you, just like him, bit the inside of your cheek pretty often.

When he moved his eyes from you to the cashier, he talked before he could think, ‘’One box of condoms too, please’’.

The other boy didn’t even flinch, too used to hearing that sentence, and scanned the little code on the machine.

Seunghan shoved the receipt and the little box into his back pocket, brushing the bottom of your backpack in the way, and his heart started to pound while he held the plastic bag in his hand.

‘’Chips with coffee?’’ you asked with a soft smile, and he showed you a wide one back.

‘’I bought coke today’’ he said, walking next to you the rest of the way to his house.

Getting to his house, he opened the door and let you walk in first, watching you take off your shoes and then turn to him, waiting for him to do the same.

When you showed him your hand, he didn’t understand what you wanted, so he gave you the plastic bag with chips.

‘’Seunghan, my backpack’’ you said, making him release an embarrassed little smile before taking it off and giving it to you.

You grabbed it, and going to his kitchen, you left the can of beer your boss had given to him inside his fridge.

Seunghan walked behind you, looking at you move around with such normality, you had been going there for weeks, and that was the last reunion before the presentation next week, so of course you’d be comfortable enough by that point.

Things with the work were going smoothly, different from all the ideas that circled his mind about you. You had made that tedious job bearable, and he wished all his other projects could go as easy as that one.

They would arrive still in a considerable time, and seeing you bend down to inspect his fridge, he gulped, seeing the little outline of your body swimming inside that oversized t-shirt.

‘’You bought Sprite too’’ you affirmed before closing his door, ‘’what’s the occasion?’’

‘’It’s the last meeting, I thought it would be nice to give them something that wasn’t instant coffee’’ he murmured.

You walked to him, looking at his hand organizing the bags over his counter and folding the plastic bag from the convenience store into a drawer. ‘’The last meeting…’’ you murmured too, not believing that so much time had passed, and how probably that would be your last day together like that in his kitchen.

Catching your attention, a piece of paper was showing in his back pocket, and you shouldn’t have done it, you don’t know why you did it, but you grabbed it, it easily slipped from his jeans without making a noise, so he didn’t notice it, and you and your wandering eyes read what was written in the little paper.

Nothing seemed out of normal, the different chips were listed with their price right next to them, but one word caught your attention.

You had never bought it before, but you recognized the name of the brand, it was popular and all the stores had it, so you had seen it in the health section in the supermarket and posters of it in convenience stores.

Not wanting to make it obvious that you knew, you let the paper fall to the floor when he stood up again.

‘’That fell’’ you said, and he, following your eyes, saw the white paper on the floor, picking it up and making it a ball before he tossed it to the trash can there in his kitchen.

You swallowed the saliva accumulating in your throat, and he didn’t say anything, he didn’t know you had read it, so when the air changed and he met your eyes staring at him, he smiled, thinking it was you wanting a kiss from him.

Getting close to you, things were different this time, he was going just for a kiss, there wasn’t much time before the others arrived, but you put your arms around his neck and opened your mouth, wanting a deep one this time.

Sliding his tongue and caressing yours, one of his hands went to your back, feeling the clasp of your bra through your shirt, while the other shamelessly went to the small of your back, drawing lines and circles just to keep his hands busy.

You whimpered and he couldn’t help but push his mouth even more against yours, pressing you to his counter and groaning when he heard another whimper come from you.

‘’The others are going to arrive in any second… I’m sorry’’ he said.

‘’Why are you sorry?’’ you asked.

‘’Because I can’t make you cum, there’s not enough time’’ he sighed before giving you a peck over your lips.

‘’Later then?’’ your voice almost broke and he saw your eyes gleaming, thinking how they were the prettiest pair he had seen, and how they were focused solely on him.

He nodded, ‘’Later.’’

When the others got there, they all focused on giving the presentation the last touches, and once they were done, they all celebrated with the chips and the sodas Seunghan had bought.

‘’I’ve never had a group work as much as this one, I’m thankful to all of you for coming here even with your busy agendas, thank you for everything’’ Seunghan said, making them all smile, and of course, the praises for him didn’t take much to appear.

Everyone left not much later, and being alone, you helped him recollect the cans and then step over them to recycle them.

Finishing the work in silence, you helped him clean, and once nothing else was there to do, Seunghan made you follow him to his room.

You haven’t been there many times, but you remember it, you remember the dark blue walls, and his black furniture, especially the way even his window frame was black too.

It looked like someone had designed it for him, knowing his style, just like his whole house, and you couldn’t help but feel the difference with your place when after spending hours there you had to ride the bust to your little studio apartment.

But Seunghan had never shown any sign of caring about the difference in your situations, he knew you worked in a half bar half chicken restaurant, that you used cheap softener for your clothes, and that you repeated outfits many times, but he had never commented about it.

You couldn’t help but feel kind of special, and just that day, when you saw him waiting for you in front of your workplace, you felt your heart flinch, because not even in your wildest dreams you had thought you would see that scene.

You knew him enough to know he usually overthought things about others and how they saw him, needing to appear perfect all the time, but even with that in mind, just perhaps, things were different with you.

Closing his door while you saw the pictures he had on his desk, you didn’t say a word once he got behind you and one of his hands rested on your abdomen.

You let him kiss you again, receiving him and giving him your full attention, to him, to his fingers, and to the way he wasn’t containing anymore.

He made you walk to his bed with him, and pushing you there, he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

‘’I’ll take it off’’ he said, and when you nodded, he showed you a smile, ‘’I’ll finally see what you have there.’’

‘’Shut up’’ you laughed and lifted your arms, so he took it off.

Showing him your chest, you felt exposed, it was the first time you let him see you like that, he had sneaked a hand before, but he never took off your t-shirts, not even your jeans, touching you inside your underwear and making you cum with his fingers before he gave you your clean pair of panties and let you change yourself while he turned to watch a wall or went to put his shoes on while you changed alone in his room.

His eyes on your chest made you conscious, and he noticed it, but even if he wanted to stop so you felt comfortable, he couldn’t.

‘’They’re pretty’’ he said, and you gave him a half smile, not daring to see his eyes inspecting you.

His hand caressed your cheek, so you looked at him again, and trailing down the valley between your breasts, he smiled when you whimpered at his hands cupping your tits.

Nipping the naked skin that your bra let him see, he felt the softness of that part of your body, looking up to your face to not lose your reactions.

He took off the pretty blue shirt you liked to see him wearing, and that part of him naked, he showed you his tender skin, white, spotless and as pretty as him.

Of course, he’d look perfect without clothes too.

He didn’t unclasp your bra, he pulled it down, which felt uncomfortable, but you couldn’t say anything when his lips went to your nipples and left soft licks over them, making you arch so your chest continued meeting his mouth.

Untouched down there, you were sure your panties were already a mess since he kissed you in his kitchen hours before, and needing him, your hand went to his erection.

You weren’t that bold before, you could press your cunt to it when he asked you to sit on his lap, but you never touched it.

You wanted to touch it so bad, you let him keep attending your chest while you grabbed him over his pants.

‘’I want to touch you’’ you admitted, and he, without the smile you always saw, pushed your hand away.

‘’Not yet’’ he said, moving away and unbuttoning your jeans.

You, again, helped him to take it off you, lifting your hips so you helped him.

With hands sweating, he tosses them to the side and sighs glad that they didn’t slip from his hands. You looked so fucking good under him, nude bra down enough for him to see your tits, and a blue pair of panties that definitely didn’t match, but for him, they looked amazing together, because you were wearing them, and that was enough.

Looking at you, he can’t help but admire all the little places he wants to mark, the side of your neck, your collarbone, your chest, your tummy, and his eyes go all the way down until he sees the inside of your thighs.

Creamy, soft, sweet, they were calling for him, and without saying anything, he went down to taste them.

You let him, you just let him, and adoring the way you wordlessly opened your legs for him, he bit you there, breathing over your underwear the aroma he recognized a bit too well, leaving little pecks until, after pushing your panties to the side, left a single long one over your clit.

Glowing under his bedroom light, he can’t help but give big licks, down and up, recollecting your juices to taste you properly, and like he had been wanting for so long every time he smelled your panties in the confidence of his room.

All those times making you cum with his fingers and containing himself from dropping to his knees and drinking your orgasm to push another one had come to that, and he couldn’t stop now.

Tongue flat against your clit, he made you squirm, but maintaining you on your place with his arms under your thighs and his palms over your tummy, he made you accept him.

‘’Wait- Seunghan’’ you said, propping on your elbows and looking down at him, the sight of his dark eyes meeting yours and his mouth working so eagerly over you making your head spin, and one of your hands, needing to touch him, went to his hair to feel him.

With shaking hips, you met his mouth whenever his chin went upwards, pulsating against half of his face and leaving a mess.

Your pretty pussy lips had a reddish colour, furious with him and his teasing, so to alleviate them a little bit, he inserted two of his fingers in one thrust.

You didn’t need preparation for that, he knew you could take them, so many times cumming over them, your entrance recognized his fingers as an invited guess, so you could only cry when that little place that he always found squelched.

Cursing, you let your head fall, and arching your back, you came with his fingers and his mouth, legs almost closing around his face but being stopped by his big hands.

He left a mark of wetness over the place he touched with the fingers he had pushed on your insides, and you knew you were dripping all over his bed, yet you couldn’t care less.

He pushed down his pants and his underwear, kicking them away from his feet.

‘’Come here’’ he called you, and you, still not back in your senses but always listening to him, sat in the border of his bed as you could.

With drowsy eyes, you gulped when his member stood in front of you. Looking amazing, you didn’t know if dicks could be pretty, but that was the only adjective that came to your head when you saw it.

Pink, veiny, and long, the tip was slightly thicker and darker, and you waited for him to tell you what to do.

His palm wrapped him in front of you with one hand, and with the other, he grasped on your hard nipples begging for more attention, while your pussy was leaving a big spot over his bedsheets with how wet you were after he made you cum once.

‘’First use your hand, okay?’’ he said, and you didn’t need to hear anything else before your hand went to his member, ‘’you seem to like it’’ he snickered.

He didn’t want to tease you, he didn’t mean to, he’s not used to doing that, not even with his exes that could easily form comebacks and throw them at him, but with you, he couldn’t help it, so gorgeous, quiet, and always accepting, his ugly side kept floating out, and he liked your voice telling him to shut up or the almost mute giggles that escaped your chest.

‘’I like it’’ you said, and he licked his dry lips, watching you attentively. The way your wrist did its best to move in and out, and seeing your mouth get closer to his shaft, opening and letting the tip touch your tongue, made him groan.

‘’Take your bra off’’ he ordered, needing to see your tits bouncing with the little force you were using to jerk him off.

He suddenly remembered each time he jerked off to the smell of your panties and the memory of your eyebrows frowning when you came thanks to him, and he smiled, proud of seeing you so eager to attend him too.

His little doll, after all those orgasms, would you say yes to anything he said?

When you toss your bra away without stopping your licks to the tip of his cock, he knows the answer is a yes.

‘’Try to take a bit more’’ he inhaled hastily and, helping you do your job more comfortably, with his hands he pushed the loose strings of hair away from your face.

The first day he didn’t understand why his hand moved on its own to push that hair behind your ear, but now he sees that little dot on your cheek, close to your ear, and he thinks that he did it to see it without any obstacle covering it.

You opened your mouth for him and let him slide deeper, half his cock is inside you, and you looked at him with teary drunk eyes.

He moans at the image, so pretty for him, all for him, he’s the only one who had seen you from that angle, and he hopes it continues being like that.

Your cheeks hollowed and you tried to take more of him, stopping your lungs from taking air in so you could suck him better, and he could see it, he could see you struggling and doing your best for him, so he pressed a thumb on your cheek to show his approbation.

You thought he was getting bored, his usual smile was not there, and his eyes were looking at yours too much, so you stopped to make sure you were not doing all that for nothing, ‘’Sorry, am I bad?’’ you asked with insecurity pouring out of your eyes.

He shook his head, his little genius was all nervous and unconfident, and he felt like he had hit the fucking jackpot seeing such a tranquil and collected girl ask him if she was doing a good job at sucking his cock.

‘’You’re perfect’’ he assured, guiding his cock back to your mouth, to which you answer by letting a bit of spit over his tip, smearing it with your lips kissing him and taking him again.

Where the fuck did you learn that? he asked himself, but with the security of you not doing it from someone who isn’t him, he only sighed and let you continue.

Seconds later he felt himself getting closer, and he can’t let himself cum in your mouth, he needs to do it in your insides, so telling you to stop, you do as your told, watching him in your spot searching his jeans and the box of condoms he had bought in the convenience store on the way to his house.

He opened the package with his mouth, and you remembered all those times you’d heard you shouldn’t do it like that, and echoing inside your mind, you pushed those voices to the back when you pulled down your panties and kicked them under his bed.

‘’This is how you put one on, the next time you’ll do it for me, so watch’’ he said, and you nodded, juices leaking with the idea of doing it for him the next time.

He teaches you how to grab the pointy start with his fingers, and how, with the help of his other hand, you’ll have to slide the latex all over his length, until it ends a finger away from the base of his cock.

You batted your eyelashes without thinking, imagining how the pressure of him opening your insides would feel, and to that your thighs shook with excitement.

He kissed you to take away the last doubts you could have, not knowing that you were yearning for it as much as him.

Helping you lie on his bed with him between your legs, he pushed you more into the mattress so he could kneel over the same bedsheets you’ve been dripping all over.

‘’Tell me if you want to stop, I know it can hurt at first, but I’m confident you’ll take me without problem’’ he said, brushing his tip over your clit and then going lower to put it on your entrance, only pushing his thick tip inside, stretching you enough to make your breath get all messy and your mouth fall open, pushing the air out of your lungs with the sensation of his cock finally fucking you.

‘’Fuck’’ you cried, feeling more of him slide in, and he tried to not show how much he was feeling to not make you nervous, but your gummy walls were so hot he felt like he was melting inside you, and that stole the last sanity he had, biting his lips to not let any embarrassing sound out.

‘’I told you, you could take me’’ he said proudly when his entire dick was inside you, and you cried a needy yes and searched for his eyes to look at how good you were being for him.

Your legs were as wide open as they could, and you pulled him in for a kiss before he rutted into you.

He wanted to be soft, it was your first time, and he knows how important it is for most girls, but you make him so crazy he’s forgotten how he did to not act on his wishes anymore.

His hips clasped with yours at that pace and you cried with each thrust, trying to not be too loud with the hits, however, the curve of his cock was making punching a certain place that feels more intense perfectly, and soon you were gripping onto his bedsheets to get a hold of yourself.

His mouth launched to your neck, chest pressing yours while fucking you, and he started to leave little spots on your neck and collarbone while one of his hands moved from your hip to the wrist of one of your hands, holding it there to feel you closer.

You were practically stuck to him, yet he needed to feel you more, and soon he was pushing your thighs to your chest to watch and confirm how deep inside you he was.

Looking at his cock disappearing inside your plump lips, he frowns because its all so perfect, you under him, taking him after all those weeks, and his thrusts became harder, touching the deepest part of your insides to pull out until the only thing connecting you to him was his fat tip, to then harshly pound into you again.

It’s all so messy he can see you dripping on his bed and how the lube appears dull compared to the glow of your juices on his pelvis.

A moan almost escaped his throat when he saw little tears falling on your cheeks, he knows they’re not from pain, and that’s what pushes him to let his grunts and moans out.

‘’Taking me so good, I’m the only one who can make you like this, right?’’ he asked, but it sounds almost like begging, and you didn’t dare to tease him as he did with you.

‘’You’re the only one’’ you cried while his dick kept punching your insides.

‘’Fuck, I’m going to cum’’ he warned, covering you with his body but not crushing you, his weight doesn’t affect you and you wanted more, so the hand he wasn’t holding moved to his back and scratched him, making him hiss and move his hand to between your bodies, to thumb your clit and push you to cum with him.

Twitching inside you, he came while murmuring a soft my girl, and you tried to ignore those words, thinking that was just something that came to him because of pleasure, and that he would forget later.

He fell over you, this time he felt heavier, but you still didn’t mind, and pressing the tip of your fingers over the scratches you left on his back, you sighed, relaxed to have him there.

‘’Sorry,’’ you said after, when you were on his bed and he was showing you his back, only wearing his boxers and searching for your shirt while you were covering yourself with his bedsheets.

‘’Why?’’ he asked curious of your words.

‘’Your back’’ you answered, and he turned to see the side of his back in his mirror, which indeed, had lines done by your nails.

He smiled and walked to you, sitting beside you and caressing your cheek before he trailed his fingers to your neck, touching the purple spots he has left.

‘’Then I’m sorry too’’ he said, making you smile too.

‘’Maybe we should stop saying sorry’’ you laughed.

‘’Yeah, maybe we should’’ he answered, laughing too.

He didn’t know what else to say, but he didn’t want to be a coward anymore, and he wanted to say something because he wanted to, not because he thought you were the one who wanted to hear him saying it, and if he was being honest with himself, he knew you wouldn’t like him to say what he was about to anyway, because you, just like he does often, think that you know what he’s thinking, so he guessed that you were probably thinking a way to leave his house to not be a bother to him, but he didn’t want that, and he knew you wouldn’t know it unless he said it.

‘’Stay with me’’ he said, it sounded almost like a command, but you knew it was a question.

‘’Okay then’’ you said, accepting to stay with him, sounding nonchalant, like he usually did, but you looked as relieved as him, and he felt glad that he finally took a step further.

#riize x reader #seunghan x reader #riize smut #seunghan smut #riize fluff #riize scenarios #riize imagines

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alottanothing · 5 months ago

Text

This is for @twola, who, about a week ago was having a bad day and wanted someone to write a snip of Arthur beating the shit out of someone who made the reader cry; with the addition of some smutty goodness, of course.

Well, this is the first time I've written publically for our dear cowboy Arthur Morgan. And I simply cannot write anything considered a 'snip'. So here's what my brain calls a snip; over 5k words just for you, twola. I hope this makes up for the bad say you had last week. :)

And shout out to my partner in writing crime, @itswormtrain, for making this readable!

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (f!reader receiving)

The sun was beginning to set over the peaceful hills and sprawling trees of Cumberland Forest. Those lingering traces of daylight caress the rugged terrain with whimsy, casting shadows that dance over the dirt path under the hooves of your young stallion. Nature seemed to pause in reverence as the sun gracefully lowered itself behind the distant mountains; the only sound was that of your horse's steady walk and the murmuring babble of the Dakota River in the distance.

It had been too long since you’d enveloped yourself in such tranquility, seemingly always at the receiving end of Miss Grimshaw’s scalding. Any anticipation of exploring the wilderness or going on jobs with the guys was always overshadowed by the necessity of chores.

When you’d joined the ranks of the Van der Linde Gang, you had hoped you’d garner a little more excitement than a seemingly endless cycle of laundry, cooking, and mending. Sure, the mess in Black Water and the threat of the law constantly at everyone’s heels was a form of excitement, concerning, but still excitement. Though, things had died down since all that, and Horseshoe Overlook was truly an awe-inspiring place to call home for the time being. Even so, camp chores remained deeply understimulating.

In truth, you were just antsy; you always were when Arthur was away for more than a couple of days. Your mind always thought the worst, despite knowing your handsome outlaw was more than capable of handling himself on jobs and in the wilds. But that nagging concern never ceases to occupy your mind. His absence at camp was never more cumbersome than when Grimshaw was barking out instructions, or when Uncle’s drunken singing was so off-key, it scraped against your brain like a rusty old knife. You simply couldn’t stand it anymore; you needed peace and quiet—something to scratch that itching thought in the back of your head.

Admittedly, you hadn’t planned to venture so far from camp, or any sort of civilization for that matter. The towering ramparts of Fort Wallace were in your sights before you decided to turn back. Were it not for the shotgun secured in its holster on your saddle, the late hour would have left you feeling considerably more anxious. Arthur had taught you well, and instilled in you enough confidence not to worry as you trot down the dirt path toward Valentine.

There wasn’t a single soul to be seen for the majority of your journey; your only company that of your horse and Mother Nature’s comforting embrace. You almost hated the far-off glow of a town in the distance, over the crest of a hill. Soon you’d be back at camp with nothing to do but laundry and fret over your lover's absence.

“Pardon me, miss.” You nearly jump from your saddle hearing the strange man’s voice. “Thank god for you, would you mind – too terribly – giving me a ride back to town?”

Your heart skips a warning in your chest as you look around, where did he come from? The question dances in your head as you fight to form the words you want. This was O’Driscoll country—a notion you were suddenly very aware of, and your eyes glance at the rifle still tucked securely in the holster on your saddle.

“I was thrown from my horse, ya see—wild beast took off without me. ‘Fraid I hurt my ankle when I fell.” He explained, garnering a wave of sympathy that clouded the caution in your gut.

The stranger wasn’t dressed in the usual black and green of Colm’s gang: just simple trousers and a dirty work shirt and boots. What could it hurt?

“Yeah, alright,” you said, giving the man a faint smile.

“Oh, bless you, miss. Bless you,” the look of relief on his features did well to settle the remainder of the apprehension swirling in your stomach.

With a firm grip, you steadied your horse so the man could climb on, offering your hand to help him up.

And that act of kindness was your mistake.

His grip on your wrist was like a vice, painful, as he yanks you from your horse's saddle, your boots nearly getting hung on the stirrups. A sinister laugh echoes through the tall trees, splitting the serenity with the jagged sound of malice. Your stallion rears and cries, spooked by the abrupt movement, but the stranger is quick to steady him, forcing your horse into a full gallop toward the glow of Valentine leaving you where you fell.

When the shock wears off, you aren’t sure which was stronger, the wave of anger that envelopes you, or the sudden fear of solitude that brings forth the steady stream of tears down your cheeks. Both feelings were justified, you figure. That, and how utterly foolish you feel for trusting a stranger.

You knew better. Your time with the Van der Lindes taught you not to trust anyone, at least not someone on the side of the road pretending to be hurt. That was the oldest trick in the book. One you’d used several times to con someone out of something. Now, you were out a horse and a shotgun.

When the landscape grew darker as night fell, those shadows that you once looked on with awe and majesty, now loom sinisterly.

Stupid! You scolded yourself, more tears searing down your face. It would be dawn before you made it back to camp on foot; if you made it back to camp at all.

Without the security of your shotgun at hand, your confidence in making it home unscathed was growing short. Animals lurked in the trees around you; monsters both beast and man would undoubtedly set their teeth on you if they found you alone and without the means to protect yourself.

A shiver surges through you, a combination of the onslaught of fear and the chill from the mud you’d landed in. If you’d been riding with Arthur, no one would have the gall to steal from him. And if they did, they surely wouldn’t live long enough to get far out of reach.

You wipe the mud from your hands to your skirts before swiping at the tears staining your face. Maybe someone from camp would notice you hadn’t returned yet and send someone looking for you. Why hadn’t you asked someone to ride along with you, Mary-Beth would have, and she would have appreciated the quiet you wanted. But no, all you needed was the shotgun… How foolish you were.

With a sigh, you work yourself to your feet, boots, and skirts caked with mud and dirt. Even with the weight of self-pity beckoning you to stay planted on the side of the road, the rage put fire in your steps. You would make it back to camp, feet surely blistered, if only to lessen the embarrassment of being robbed.

Anger proves to be a useful motivator as you trek down the road before you, lit only by the white light of the moon. The tears had stopped, but they threaten to spill again simply from how much your feet hurt. That glow seemed to have tricked you; Valentine wasn’t close at all. All there was was trees and rocks and dirt in every direction. You were utterly alone; lost in the wilderness with only thoughts of your naivety to keep you company.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves pounding against the earth resonates through the stillness of the wood, sending shivers down your spine and provoking a new wave of tears. With every nearer beat of the rider’s approach, anxiety constricts your heart, sending a whirlwind of possibilities into your mind. Images of dark strangers conjure in your thoughts, each with a fiendish smile and a revolver on their hip, a green bandana tied around their neck. All your anger drains, as you feel fear creep deeper into your being. You wish you still had your shotgun.

“You need a ride, miss?”

Relief crashes into you like a wave against stone; you know that voice, deep and comforting—kind (to you, at least). This time, it was joy bringing tears to your eyes.

“Y/N?” The look of surprise was to be expected on Arthur’s face as he beholds the sight of you, muddy, with tears staining your face. “Darlin’, whattaya doin’ out here?”

Immediately he jumps from his horse, warm hands gently holding the tops of your arms as he gets a better look at the state you’re in. All traces of his hard exterior are swept away, leaving the softer, more compassionate man you fell in love with.

“Camp was driving me crazy without you. I just wanted to take a ride, but some asshole stole my horse—yanked me off my saddle an’ everything. S’why my skirts are all muddy.” You explain, fighting more tears.

Some of the softness fades, still, his voice is gentle when he speaks again.

“Did he hurt ya?”

You shake your head, “no.”

The pad of his thumb dances over your cheek tenderly as he tilts your chin to look at him.

“Darlin’, ya been cryin’.”

“’M just cryin’ at my own stupidity, is all.” You tell him. “Should’a known better than to trust a man alone in the woods.”

Arthur takes a deep breath through his nose, nodding.

“D’ja at least get a good look at ‘im?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you nod. “He took off towards Valentine.”

Arthur glanced south and nodded too, “Then I reckon that’s where we’ll find him.”

He places you on the saddle and mounts just behind you, drawing you close to his chest as he gives his loyal mare a gentle kick to urge her back onto the road.

With Arthur's arms around you, the darkness of the forest shifts back into the realm of tranquility. The menacing silhouettes of the towering trees became that of gentle giants, swaying gracefully in the night breeze. No longer did the whisper of rustling leaves hold a feeling of foreboding. The forest, in the ethereal silver glow of the moon, was a picture of peace and beauty once more.

Despite what had happened, even Arthur was a beacon of serenity. He hums as you both ride. It’s the same tune Uncle was singing when you left, only Arthur’s melody instills you with a sense of calm while Uncle’s attempt had you on the verge of threatening to remove his tongue. Every so often you feel his lips press to your scalp, leaving soft kisses in your hair and each one helps to remedy every sour thought plaguing you. It never ceases to amaze you just how tender your outlaw could be. To the civilized world, he was quite literally the poster of cruelty and evil, but for you, he was your knight in shining armor.

Valentine was quiet when the hooves of Arthur's horse turn down the main thoroughfare. The muddy roads, churned up by hooves and wagons, were dimly lit by the flicker of oil lamps. In the distance the stirring of livestock in their pens echoes through the stillness of the air, the only other sound coming from the saloon in the middle of town.

Smithfield’s always seemed to clamor no matter what time of night it was. Debauchery never slept, you guessed. The clinking of glasses and the lofty tune of the piano can be heard as you pass the sheriff’s office, a symphony of merriment in the still night air that lent such disregard to the tired citizens of Valentine.

A few men stand outside, bottles in hand as they lament lost love and glory, belching and hiccupping into the cool air. Horses tied to the hitching post whinny and jerk at reins keeping them in place, and there among them was your stolen stallion.

Arthur steers his mare to the front of the saloon, his heavy boots landing with a squelch in the mud as he dismounted. He helps you down, strong hands circling your waist and steadying you in the soft earth.

“I’ll be right back, darlin’,” he says and tips his head toward your horse. “Get yer boy, Imma go take care of some business inside.”

Before you can utter a word he stomps up the stairs of the saloon, his frame taking on the posture of The Enforcer as he pushes through the swinging doors.

His face wasn’t unknown here, it was only a couple of weeks ago he and a few of the other men from camp had gotten into some trouble. You weren’t there to see the fight, but you’d heard all about Arthur’s trip through the window—now boarded up and waiting to be repaired. This time, you hoped it wasn’t your handsome outlaw cast through the pane of glass.

While Arthur is inside, you deftly untangle your horse's reins from the post, gently stroking his mane to soothe his soft whinnying. You smile when he nuzzles you back, happy, it seems, to be back in your care.

“Was that awful man mean to you?” you ask softly, rubbing the coarse fur of his strong neck. “Arthur will handle it, don’t you worry.”

As if on cue, the jovial commotion in the saloon ends; the happy voices now holding anger or shock. The piano playing is lost to the disgruntled sounds inside and a moment later, the man who nearly ruined your night is thrown through the doors.

His bruised form topples down each step before landing in the mud. You watch, unable to quell the sense of pride that surges through you as you watch Arthur swagger through the saloon doors and down the steps, spurs jingling. The confidence he holds as he looms over the thief settles over you warmly. This act of violence was in the name of chivalry; the man deserved whatever justice Arthur planned to dish out.

“Didn’t need ya to point him out after all, darlin’.” Arthur's words fell from his lips with the ghost of a grin, pleased with the opportunity to put your attacker in his place. “This feller was inside boastin’ to the whoooole saloon ‘bout the horse he stole from a helpless young woman just outside of town.”

Arthur kicks the man as he tries to stand, the thief falling back into the mud with a groan. Folks begin to gather on the wooden porch of Smithfield’s, their faces twisting in looks of both concern and excitement as they watch your handsome outlaw and the man who’d stolen your horse.

“See, normally I don’t waste my time dealin’ with dim-witted horse thieves. Hell, on occasion, I am one. But you see, that weren’t just any helpless young woman ya stole a horse from… that was my woman.” Arthur deals him another kick to his gut, knocking the wind from his lungs a second time as he tries to stand.

“An’ if it ain’t clear already,” Arthur says reaching to pull the man from the ground and holding him by the lapels of his jacket. “I don’t take kindly to anyone hurtin’ my woman in any way. Ya understand?”

The deep timbre of Arthur’s voice works over your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. He looks so fierce in the flickering light of the oil lamps, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from you, though you know they were cold, focused on the man in his grasp.

No coherent words fall from the thief's mouth as Arthur holds him nearly off the ground, only a moan of anguish, surely from the two kicks he’d suffered.

“Nod if ya understand,” Arthur demands with a shake.

Anger churns on the thief’s face, but he nods, slow, jaw clenching as he musters the gall to fight back.

“Fortunately for you, all I’m lookin’ for is an apology…” Arthur tips his hat in your direction. “…to the lady.”

The man’s dark eyes glance your way and he sneers, shaking his head with a mirthless chorttle.

“I ain’t apologizin’ for nothin’, especially when your woman is stupid enough ta get her horse stole in the first place.”

If you cared even slightly about the fate of the man who’d stolen your horse, hearing those words escape his mouth would have caused your stomach to drop knowing the sort of fire he just ignited. But, you want nothing more than for Arthur to beat him into a bloody pulp.

To your surprise, however, Arthur remains steadfast, but his voice is increasingly more sinister when he speaks.

“Maybe ya didn’t hear me. An apology. Now.”

“No.” The thief spat, a fiendish smile turning his lips.

With lightning speed and unyielding force, Arthur’s fist collides with the man’s jaw, unleashing a thunderous crack that has the onlookers gasping. The sudden impact propels the thief backward, his body crashing into the cold mud for a third time.

You expect him to stay there, really if the man had any wits about him, he would have. However, despite the two kicks and the blow to his face, the thief rose from the mud, foolish determination etched onto his bloodied features. Arthur almost scoffs and wastes no time proving the extent of his strength. He strikes him again, obliterating the remnants of the man's fractured jaw, the sound resonating with a deafening crack.

No one rushes to the man's aid when he falls to the muddy earth for a fourth time, wailing in anguish at his shattered jaw. Arthur stands over him, tall and formidable, his presence almost challenging the man to get back up, your outlaw more than prepared to deal out more justice.

“Should’a apologized…” Arthur chides. “If ya had, maybe ya’d have use of that jaw’a yours right now.”

The man groans in agony, writing on the ground as he holds his broken jaw.

“But I had ta keep ya from speakin’ ill’a my woman like that. I certainly don’t appreciate when slimy fellers like you use her kindness against her.” Arthur slowly circles the man like a fierce wolf circles their prey. “Then ya had ta go leavin’ her out in them woods, faaar from any sort of civilization, all alone. An’ well. I ain’t takin’ no apologies for that.”

He stops, one leg on each side of the thief before dropping to his knees, fist poised high over the old leather hat on his head. Arthur didn’t leave your attacker with only one more punch; the man under his weight had committed the ultimate sin in your lovers eyes. He’d hurt you, a crime that warranted the ultimate punishment.

The sound of each punch reverberates through the air as Arthur’s fury drives him to deliver decisive blows. As you watch, pride swelling in your breast, you swear each hit lands with such intensity the ground beneath you trembles. All the folks gathered to watch pass whispers while looks of shock mold their features. Come the morning, the town would be talking again about the stranger who liked to stir up trouble in the sleepy city of Valentine.

When Arthur finally stands, flexing his surely aching knuckles, the man beneath him is unrecognizable. Blood and bruises distort his face, teeth missing from his gaping mouth. His limp body is unmoving in the mud and you haven’t a care whether he was dead or alive.

There is a hint of shame on his expression when he drew himself back into your orbit, the coldness in his eyes warming in your presence.

“’M sorry, darlin’.” He says refusing to look you in the eye. In an instant, the Enforcer was gone, leaving only your kind knight in shining armor standing before you, his knuckles red and bloodied from dealing out justice.

“For what?” you say taking his injured hand in yours, wiping the blood from the cuts with a clean section of your skirt.

“For what I done.”

You shake your head and tilt the brim of his hat, looking to meet his lowered gaze. “All you done, Mister Morgan, is protect your woman. Ain’t a lick of shame in that.”

He grins softly, gently caressing your chin and cheek with his clean hand. His expression meets yours completely.

“’M just glad I happened upon ya when I did.” He murmurs and you step closer to him.

His gentle eyes, painted in a delicate watercolor palette of blue and green, softly convey the deep love he possessed for you, along with the ever-lingering fear of losing you. The exquisite blend of tenderness and vulnerability was something seldom seen by anyone other than you. And each time those meticulously built walls of his came down, you were honored to behold the part of him he kept hidden from everyone else.

“Me too,” you whisper, hoping the look you give him in return conveys the same sentiment.

The lives you lived held no real guarantees apart from a bullet or a hanging rope. You learned quickly to never take for granted a single moment, and this one you certainly weren’t.

“You ready to get back to camp now, darlin’?” he asks, fixing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Camp… you almost grimace at the thought of returning to the mediocrity of it all.

“Actually.” Your eyes glance over to the hotel across the way, mischief coating your smile. “Was thinkin’ I should reward my rescuer.”

His brows furrow following your glance, oblivious to your meaning.

Before he can open his mouth to form a question, you kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck, stretching on your tiptoes to gain the fullness of his kiss. As if on instinct his arms weave around your waist, your feet coming off the ground as he pulls you in closer to deepen the draw of your joined lips. It’s slow and lazy and perfect, his mouth undemanding but firm against yours, making you melt into his very being.

Your head is spinning when he pulls away, placing your feet gently back into the mud, and you can’t fight the smile unfurling over your wet lips.

“I’ll buy us a room at the inn,” you say, batting your eyes coyly. “S’ the least I can do for my knight in shining armor.”

Arthur laughed, heartily. There is an undeniable charm to the sound of his chuckle, as it cascades through the air, enveloping you with an infectious happiness each and every time you hear it. As his eyes hold yours, a playful glimmer twinkles behind them as he swiftly deciphers your not-so-cleverly veiled plan.

“A knight, hmm?” his brow lifts onto his forehead in a deep arch, his smirk firm on his lips.

You nod, “In shining armor.”

He chuckles again shaking his head before scooping you into his arms with ease. You gasp at the swiftness, and laugh too, draping your arms around his neck before planting a kiss on his bearded cheek.

“Well, then, I reckon I should play the part, shouldn’t I, sweetheart?” he says as he steps around your fallen, broken-jawed adversary on his way to the Saint’s Hotel. “Ain’t never been a knight before, just a dirty ol’ outlaw.”

You laugh and roll your eyes.

He whistles as he trudges through the soft earth for his horse to follow and his loyal mare falls in close on his heel. Your horse follows too, nearly as inseparable from his horse as you were with Arthur.

“Ya ain't old, and ya ain’t dirty…need I remind you who's got mud all over their clothes?” you say kicking up your soiled skirts to get his attention. He just laughs.

“Maybe ya forgot already, but I was on my knees in the mud beating the life outta that fool who robbed you. That makes me just as dirty as you. ‘Sides, I reckon neither of us will be wearin’ them for much longer anyhow.”

His comment, and accompanying bravado surges through you like more wildfire, adding to the flames he’d already been fanning since throwing your attacker through the saloon doors. Arthur’s confidence in his ability to have you swooning with only the low smokey sound of voice and the words he spoke had grown exponentially. Which was both something of a blessing and a curse. You enjoyed the days of flirting and seeing him grow red in the face from your flattery. Now he made you putty in his hands with a few words and a coupling smile.

For that moment, however, you decide it’s a blessing; he’s your Savior in Spurs—a cowboy casanova.

You toss a coin to the innkeeper from the pocket of your skirts and he casts you a key that you manage to catch as Arthur wastes no time making his way upstairs.

In truth, the Saint’s Hotel was no paradise; with its meager accommodations and thin walls, it was hardly a place to find rest. However, that night, that illusion of privacy might as well have been nirvana. You could hardly recall the last time the two of you had a chance to make use of actual walls instead of the canvas flaps of Arthur’s tent. Here, the neighbors were strangers who wouldn’t be casting you looks over the fire the next morning, knowing far too much about what you and Arthur had gotten up to in his tent. You were going to savor every tiny detail unabashedly while you could.

The fire was already burning brightly in the fireplace, warming the room from the cool mountain air outside the windows, adorned with sun-rotted lace curtains. The wooden floor creaked under each step as if to voice its displeasure at the neglect it had suffered over the years. The faded wallpaper, once bursting with colorful patterns, now barely clung to the walls, faded and dusty. The bed, while made with threadbare quilts and pillows, appeared sturdy enough not to break under both your weights, and that was all you truly cared about.

Your boots are the first to come off once Arthur places you back on your feet, discarded with a couple of eager kicks before his hands reach for the fastenings of your skirts. Yours wind around his neck, burying your fingers in his honey-brown hair as you kiss his soft lips.

For all the violence they inflicted mere moments ago, Arthur's hands were so very gentle, plucking at the ties holding your skirts in place, and again as his deft fingers loosened every button of your blouse with practiced ease, leaving you in just your chemise. Despite the warmth of the fire burning in the room, a chill works through you and you sigh, more gooseflesh prickling your skin as Arthur moves his hand to the globe of your breast, thumb sweeping over the covered peak of your nipple.

His featherlight touches make your mind a dizzying vortex of desire. This man, who uses his hands to deal out death sentences, only ever uses them to worship you. His mouth, which often spits out sarcasm and cruelty, paints your skin with tender presses and undeniable words of adoration.

Your hands snake from their place in his hair to the buttons of his blue work shirt, loosening only a few before he swats your hands away gently causing a whine to sound in the back of your throat. He meets your furrowed brow with smirk and a quick peck on your lips before moving your hands back where they were.

“Feels good, you doin’ that,” he tells you.

You gently scratch the hair at the nape of his neck. “This?”

“Mhm…” he leans to kiss you again, a slow, worshipful act as though he is trying to memorize every detail of your mouth against his.

Desire thrums through you ever hotter. You need him.

“Arthur…” you breathe in weak protest as his lips scour down the column of your neck, his hands pulling your chemise from you. “…I’m s’posed to be rewardin’ you.”

You feel him smile and shake his head as his kisses venture further across your collarbone. When he relieves you of your bloomers, you shiver and moan at the feeling.

“Don’t need no reward, darlin’.” He whispers against your skin between kisses. “Think its you that needs taken care of after whatcha been through.”

Calloused fingers spray over the small of your back as he brings you against him, the hardness in his trousers pressing against your bare form. You feel your own arousal coating your thighs, warm and wet, and begging for the feel of him inside of you.

“Will ya let me do that darlin’? Take care of ya?” his hands explore as he speaks, trailing down your spine before cupping your back side with a little squeeze.

Your head falls back with a ragged sigh, fingers tugging at this hair. As much as you want to tease and dote on him and show him how grateful you were for his timing, you can’t think when he has you like this: naked and vulnerable to his touch, mind cloudy with desire.

“Yes, Arthur. Always.” You murmur, lost in the blissfulness of his touches.

As if you weigh nothing, he takes you in his arms again, hoisting you aloft, and carrying you to the bed where he lays you so tenderly over the threadbare coverings.

You watch, heart pounding against the cage of your ribs as he quickly sheds each of his layers. It is a show you have seen a dozen times and helped with a dozen more, still, your lust-blown eyes gauge him with reverence and awe.

He is truly magnificent, your handsome outlaw; strong shoulders and wide chest dusted with coarse hair your fingers yearned to comb through. Warmth drifts through your body as you drink in every inch of him, eyes landing where his cock juts from dark curls proudly and your cunt clenches in anticipation.

“C’mere, sir knight…” you say stretching across the mattress, smiling, and batting your lashes. “…come an’ claim yer prize.”

Arthur chuckles heartily as he climbs into bed, and you welcome the press of his weight with a happy sigh. He teases your lips with his own, soft kisses that leave you wanting before the press of his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You reciprocate, drinking from his mouth with hungry groans.

Heat pools lower and lower where you want him most; feeling the long pulsing line of him against your thigh was like torture, causing another whine to escape your busy lips.

“Please…” you sigh, a slow undulation taking your hips in search of some form of stimulation.

Once more he obeys, his mouth laying a hot trail down your sternum, stopping to draw your nipple between his lips before traveling further down. The sensation of familiar, calloused palms gliding down the stack of your ribs as his kisses continue their way down, squeezing the swell of your hips and kneading the softness of your thighs have your quiet moans echoing through the room.

Arthur dips his mouth to your center abruptly and draws his tongue up through your slick folds, tasting just how much you need him, and he groans.

“Mmmm, darlin’,” he murmurs before swirling his tongue over the bud nestled at the apex of your cunt. “I don’t do this enough…”

You gasp, a flash of heat pulsing through your center, head rolling against the pillow. He didn’t do this enough, then again, the two of you rarely found yourselves so alone together. And there was barely enough room for the two of you on Arthur’s cot anyway, let alone room to explore other methods of pleasure.

He intensifies his exploration, drawing his tongue over you in wide flat strokes, while your thighs come to moor on his shoulders, heels digging into his back. You feel his shoulders roll as he dedicates himself fully to his task, thrusting his tongue into you, filling you with warm velvet before abandoning your core for the silky nub crowning it. Arthur's tongue curls against it until you shiver and gasp.

“A-Arthur…” your breath hitches, hooking your fingers into his hair.

A low purr rumbles through him as you press against his face, hips rolling in rhythm with his ministrations. Your lover sweeps his tongue over and around your clit repeatedly. Sensation swells low in your belly, feeling yourself nearing the ultimate peak and you tug his hair ruthlessly wanting more. Needing more than just his mouth. His truly wonderful mouth...

“C’mon, darlin’,” he mutters against your dripping cunt, the gust of his breath billowing over your heated center causing you to shutter.

Without fanfare a wide finger dips into your core, then another, making your back arch and a loud moan spill from your lips at the delightful stretch. For only a moment, your cry reminds you of the paper mache walls surrounding you; no doubt everyone in the Saint's Hotel knows what the two of you are up to, but you cared little with Arthur between your legs eating you out like he was made to do so.

Stars dance in your eyes as you skirt the edge of your undoing. He growls encouragingly when you flutter in warning against his lips and around his fingers.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, voice low and utterly sinful. You can even feel his proud, smirking lips against your center, the image alone snapping the spring coiled low in your belly.

Ecstasy hits you like white-hot heat, tunneling your vision as you jerk against his face, heels digging into his back. His name falls sloppily from your mouth in a flurry of mixed vowels and sounds that hold no cohesive meaning, each one melding into throaty moans.

“That’s my girl…” He grins, removing his fingers to lap up all the juices of your arousal as you ride out your orgasm against his face.

Slowly you come back to yourself, the tremors of aftershock fading as your breath and vision catch up to you. Arthur remains content between your legs, gently kissing the soft skin of your thighs, once more humming the tune he’d serenaded you with on your way into town.

When he smiles at you, lips and chin shining with your nectar, love burning behind his blue-green eyes, you pet his hair, holding that gaze with the same reverence. Slowly a smirk unfurls on your lips.

“Like I said, knight in shining armor.”

#Arthur Morgan #Red Dead Redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fic

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plutoccult · 1 year ago

Text

MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE

pairing: jean kirstein x female reader

description: a few years after the successful peace negotiations, you and jean celebrate his first birthday with your new baby boy, but jean can’t help but look back on what it took to get to this day after dreaming of it as much as he could hope to live without breathing.

word count: 1.2k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: something short and sweet that’s not soul crushing angst. a shocker on my end, really. BUT, the attack on titan anime has finally ended. it’s like a chapter of my life is over, but a chapter ending only means a new one beginning. i always wanted to write something that depicted some sort of event after the end of the story, so it’s nice to fully bring that vision into fruition. i love writing for jean and i’ll miss him and the rest of the characters so very much, but the writing doesn’t end here for me! more content will come out of me until i get bored of it. i do, however, hope you enjoy this little fluff piece.

when dreaming about what life could be without titans or any worries, jean always knew what the perfect life would be for him. it was always consisted of the same fantasy; sitting out on a balcony with a glass of the finest liquor in hand, wife inside the house, and a newborn baby with the cutest, most innocent smile in his wife’s arms. the ideal daydream used to have a faceless woman, then mikasa took over for a brief second after being struck by her upon their first meeting, but now it’s been the same face for many, many years. since falling head over feet completely, jean could now only picture his future with you bearing his love and his children, and only that would be the perfect life for him. nothing else, just you.

sometimes jean wondered what life would be like if marco were still around. who would have died in his place instead of him that day? who would’ve had to deal with the pain of losing their best friend instead of him? would he live next door to jean’s dream home and babysit the kids whenever? jean liked to imagine marco as the perfect uncle. uncle marco. if only it could all be real. even so, all these years later, he was grateful for the life he had been given.

after years of hell fighting for the greater good, jean was finally able to settle down and live that perfect life he so desperately craved in his youth. he wasn’t very young anymore; small wrinkles began to form, his muscles grew tired far more easily, signs that he was starting to grow old, but not quite just yet. there was still more life to live, so much more he could live for.

today was jean’s birthday, and just like his teenage fantasies, he sat on a balcony with a glass of whiskey just as he imagined. the view of the town he lived in was great, but not the greatest. the only difference between jean’s dreams and his reality that there wasn’t a barrier between him and what he wanted most; you, holding your little baby boy in your arms.

caught in the middle of daydreaming, you emerge from inside the house and join jean on the balcony with your son. you gently grab the baby’s hand and pretend to act like he’s the one waving to jean, which makes him smile.

“does baby marco want to say hi to daddy?” you coo while jean looked at the two of you in awe. naming your child after marco was always in the cards, neither of you doubted it for a second when you both expressed wanting children. it was just the most beautiful thing in the world when he was finally born, after all this time of knowing what you wanted.

“here, lemme hold him.” jean offered, extending his arms out for baby marco. you carefully hand him over then sit down and watch as the infant reached his hands out to grab jean’s face, who was gently cradling him in his arms. “he’s getting so big now, i can’t even believe it.”

“i know.” you say with a smile on your face. “by the way, some letters came in the mail for you.”

“from who?” he questioned.

“armin and mikasa, of course. reiner and pieck too.” you began to ramble, listing off the names of all who sent letters for jean on his birthday. “oh, can’t forget connie. and then levi sent something that gabi and falco seemed to have signed—”

“so… pretty much everyone?” jean interrupted with a chuckle.

“queen historia as well.” you end off the list, giggling to yourself for forgetting such an important name. you simply can’t forget the queen, after all. “oopsie.”

“well, i oughta write everyone back as soon as possible.” he said, but you disagreed.

“you can write after cake, okay? i’ll go grab it now.” you say, standing up from your seat so you could head inside of the house.

“i told you i could make it.” jean insisted. “i don’t like making you do the work for me.”

although his words were sweet, you wouldn’t do that to him today out of all days. “make your own birthday cake? please. i’ll be right back.”

jean sat with baby marco close to him while you disappeared into the house for his birthday treat. you come back with a cake that has an array of lit candles, gently setting it down on the table as far away from the baby as possible. you take the baby out of jean’s hands while you sing happy birthday to him and sit across the table, your voice as soothing as the breeze.

when it was time for jean to blow out the candles and make a wish, he simply couldn’t think of anything to wish for. he finally had everything he ever wanted; the love of his life, a family of his own, and most importantly, peace. you both fought like hell a million times over to get here, doing things you regretted all the time. the past you shared together was ridden with sin, but the future didn’t have to be, and right now, the future was bright and golden like daylight.

if there was anything to possibly wish for, it was for things to stay just like this, so jean closed his eyes and blew out the candles and wished just for that. his eyes opened up to the sight of you and your son, and he was so happy to see it right in front of him.

“happy birthday, jean.” you say softly. baby marco beamed with the most innocent grin, his youthful laugh almost bringing jean to tears.

“thank you, my love.” he mustered up the words to say without crying.

jean insisted he cut the cake himself. seeing as you made it, this was the least he could do, and you didn’t argue. he sliced a piece for you first and set it down in front of you, watching as baby marco eyed the cake in complete awe.

jean’s eyes stray away from cutting his own piece as he found himself watching you with the baby. you were trying to eat your cake, but you couldn’t help but laugh at marco trying to get some of it from your fork.

“ah, no, no, no. you can’t have cake.” you coo, booping baby marco on the nose.

it was times like these that made jean so grateful. he captured even the smallest grain of a moment, cherishing every single one with the thought that tomorrow is not always promised, even when you two were free of the burdens of a solider saving humanity. no matter how many times he made a wish on some candies, there was always that “what if?” thought in the back of his brain that this some day would be taken away from him.

you look up and catch jean staring at you as if he were frozen, like he was taking a million pictures with his eyes. “what are you doing?”

“remembering this.” he simply replied, the best way he could put it all into words.

the love you had for each other and the life that’s been given to you would always be yours, all yours, and it would last beyond the very last breath both of you would take. in the end, all of the hardships were worth living to see this day.

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bedoballoons · 1 year ago

Note

Is your requests still open i just got back on and stuff and i kinda forgot your username did you change it i feel like my memory is getting worser everyday🫠aside from that if you are still doing requests can i maybe request like a reader that has animals following them around because of the calming presence they have around them that they use to comfort the characters at times maybe with a dendro or cryo vision (tighnari, wanderer,lyney,xiao,nuevelle bro what is this mans name and maybe cyno for the last) oh and they are a healer

It did change! My older username was much longer and a randomly generated one so I decided to go with something more personal! Also so happy to see you again! Sorry this took forever to write, but I hope you enjoy!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Calm like a soft breeze~༺}

CW: Super sweet and fluffy!

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Xiao, Wanderer, and Neuvillette!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

"Oh my" Lyney gasped as he caught sight of the fish in the ocean, the lot of them swirling at the bottom of your feet while you searched for shells against the setting sun...the crabs had even started to follow you. You just had that affect on everything, anything that could see your sweet smile...feel the calm collected words that left your lips...they'd be entranced. He himself often got himself watching you with lovestruck eyes, hoping to catch glimpses of just what made you a walking safe place.

"Mon amour, you're one of the most beautiful mysteries of this world, I hope you realize just how many times you leave me in awe..."

"L-lyney...I'm just collecting shel-"

"I know and yet you've even caught the attention of the sea itself...incredible. Absolutely incredible."

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnaris tail swayed slightly as he watched you, he couldn't help but be amazed...more animals gathering around to watch along with him as you intertwined small sticks into a crown. Your soft presence drawing him and every other living thing closer so they could see the culprit behind their newfound peace of mind. He had no clue how you managed to turn even his most stressed days into easy evenings. You truly had to be magical, and not like using a vision type of magic. A magic entirely your own, a spell you cast on anyone who met you.

"You're pretty incredible. I thought today was going terribly and then you turned it around like it had never been bad to begin with...how do you do it?"

"I just go with the flow and comfort you all the ways I can, you're the incredible one and I want to help you feel that way."

"There's no doubt you do."

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao sighed, watching as more birds gathered around you...your being radiating a calming aura that even had him feeling like he could lull off into a sweet sleep. "How do you always manage to draw the attention of the birds? You're just humming and yet it feels like you slow the world down so all can feel at peace...even me with my Karmic debt. How?"

"I'm not sure, I just humm the melody in my heart and hope that the birds and you enjoy it. As for being calming...I guess I find it easier to comfort people when I'm like this. Does this help?"

"Yes...I appreciate it. I might actually rest for awhile...if that's alright."

"Of course it is. Rest as long as you can my dear, you deserve it."

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer set his hat beside you, laying his head on your lap so he could look up at you while more animals gathered around the both of you. Normally so much attention from the wildlife would leave him annoyed...but you calmed his angry soul so easily. Reading aloud to the creatures of the forest and him while the clouds slowly swayed in the sky...you just left everything feeling safe and cozy.

"I don't know how you do it...but thanks I guess, for making me feel better. Even if you didn't really do anything but read. It helps.."

"If reading to you is what helps then consider it my pleasure."

"...you, are what helps."

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

Neuvillette opened the window slightly, allowing the many birds that had been sitting on the sill of it to get a better look at the source of the most wonderful lullaby they'd ever heard. Your voice was like the calming waves of a ocean, the perfect sound washing over him and wrapping him in a comforting warmth he'd needed so badly after his long day at work. He could listen to you for hours and never find your voice dull.

"You're a work of art my dear."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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doroooooooo · 1 month ago

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The way characters behave at the Kakuzu and Hidan arc (idk if that's the proper way to say it) just shows how many of them is a hypocrite. If they catched a random ninja instead of Shikamaru going like "I want to take revenge, to bury alive an immortal, and kill a guy who never had a minute of comfort in his 91 years if living" THE WAY they would stop them.

But we'll, since it was their precious friend, of course it's justified!

Kakuzu was betrayed horribly by his own village. He didn't have his kinjutsu when he was sent to fight Hashirama. He didn't care about money yet - meaning he accepted the mission out of loyalty, just to be punished for failing to do what motherfucking Madara Uchiha and the rest of the shinobi world also couldn't.

And Hidan is literally a confused kid. He has no concept of how normal people function. He grew up seeing "neighbor kill neighbor", so he thought that was normal. He says peaceful shinobis don't exist, because they would chose fight over death. HE IS LITERALLY A PERFECT EXAMPLE OF A NEURODIVERGENT PERSON GETTING EASILY BRAINWASHED BY A CULT.

They are BOTH easily redeemable characters, compared to Gaara, or freaking Orochimaru. Mind you, Orochimaru never regretted what he did, never even stopped, he just found a new thing to work on.

Also Asuma's death was NOT personal. Hidan had no reason to attack before they did, and Kakuzu wasn't even there when it started. Asuma died because he started a fight he couldn't win.

So yes, Naruto could have easily talk no jutsu-d his way out of this one.

And don't even get me started on Kakashi's little speech when Kakuzu died. Darling. It's NOT your space to give a speech, when the only thing that saved you was someone literally backstabbing your enemy. We all know how that fight would've ended if Naruto didn't show up.

My freaking overthinking roman empire is the way Hidan still cared about Kakuzu, despite them not getting along. Bless his soul that yelling when Kakuzu got hit. Also the way Hidan behaves at the beginning of the fight.

So yeah, little rant. In a way I find it awesome writing tho. Showing even generally good hearted characters to be a hypocrite when the victim was someone they knew, and turn completely OOC.

Or at least I would, but there we got Obito who Naruto had no problem with.

#naruto #kakuzu #hidan #kakuhida #shikamaru nara #kakashi hatake #hidan akatsuki #kakuzu akatsuki #akatsuki #asuma sarutobi

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crossfandomslut · 5 months ago

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At Peace in Your Fire pt. 5

At Peace in your Fire pt 5

Summary: Y/n and Eris exchange letters and the high lord’s meeting...

Pairing: Eris/Archeron!Reader

Word Count: 4,500

Warnings: Fluff mostly haha I couldn't bring myself to make it angsty I'm sorry! Not proof read

Notes: Thank you all for waiting and I hope part 5 is worth it!!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Eris,

If you so eagerly await my response, I suppose I will take pity on you and make haste in sending my next letter. I am relieved to know that my feelings of curiosity are not one sided and that I did not scare you off with my… outburst during our dance. I would be lying if I said I was not hurt by your abrupt exit and refusal to make eye contact afterward. Has no one ever spoken to you so freely, Heir of Autumn?

My kindest regards,

Y/n

Little dove,

It would be and understatement to say that I’m embarrassed by my actions that night in Hewn City. Truth be told, no. Only my own mother has spoken to me in such a way that made me feel scolded, shameful, and yet… also feel seen. No one has looked at me with such softness. If you truly knew me and the things I have done, you would not look at me like that. You certainly would not be writing to me. But the deeply selfish part of myself will not stop you. I will respond to every letter and lay my soul bare to you in hopes that with your kind eyes you will see something worthy in it. You are the most precious being I have ever met and if all I ever get is a few letters from you and one night of dancing, that will be enough. It may be all of which I am worthy.

Yours,

Eris

Y/n read that letter over and over again. Traced his words with her fingertips and memorized every line. She did not know what it was about him, but she couldn’t get enough of him. It was like her own soul longed for his. There was no reason for this feeling, but it held her in a tight grip. She knew she should not keep him waiting, but she needed to talk to her sister about this. It couldn’t be Feyre; she was already keeping her little crush a secret from Rhys. If she knew Y/n and Eris were sending letters to each other, she would have to tell her mate. So, she went to her sister who would, without a doubt, keep this secret. Nesta.

Y/n quickly found Cassian and asked to go see her sisters at the House of Wind, and he swept her up and flew her over. I should learn to use my wind to learn to fly… Y/n thought as they landed on the roof of the house. Cassian left Y/n to go look for her sister and he walked to the living room to wait for her. He was just happy to have an excuse to not do real work and Rhys couldn’t get mad because he was helping Y/n!

Nesta was exactly where Y/n knew she would be. In the library. “Hey, Nes!”

“Hey flame, how’s it going living with the worst high lord ever and his lackies?”

“Nes…”

“I know, I know, they’ve been great to you and you’re adapting like you always do. I still don’t know where you got that from. It’s not like our parents were fluid or easy going.”

“I don’t know Nes, sometimes what we learn from our parents is what we don’t want to become. Fey and I are the youngest, we got to watch you and Elain learn and make mistakes so we never had to. We were lucky in that way.”

“Yeah. Not in many other ways though.” Nesta looked at her sister with a tenderness only reserved for her and Elain. Y/n wasn’t sure why Nesta and Feyre butted heads so much, but it broke her heart. Something to focus on another time. For now, she was here to ask for advice from her oldest sister.

“Nes, I need to tell you something and it can not leave this room.”

“Like I ever leave this room?”

Y/n chuckled, “fair enough. Okay… you remember Eris?”

“Did he finally grow a pair and send you a letter?”

Y/n balked at her sister’s bluntness. “You know??”

Nesta barked out a luagh, “of course I know! You didn’t see the way he looked at you when you fell unconscious during the meeting. Hell- he caught you before you could hit the ground and looked ready to kill Azriel when he took you from his arms.”

“Wh-what?”

“Oh yeah, he’s like obsessed with you. So what did his letter say?”

Y/n pulled out the letters from Eris and showed them to her sister, also telling her what she had responded.

“Damn, he is way more obsessed with you than I thought. Have you replied to this one?”

“No, not yet. I needed to talk to you about it. What do I do Nes? The rest of the family hates him and thinks he’s a terrible male. They’ve known him for literal centuries, so who am I to say that he’s not bad and tell them they ‘just don’t know him’?”

“I don’t know flame, the way he looked at you that night and the way he’s writing to you, I think it’s worth sending a few more letters back and forth. You know I’m quick to read people, and that look was not the look of someone plotting to take advantage or use you. I think he’s genuine.”

“Okay. Thank you, Nes. Do you have a quill and parchment?”

Eris has been sweating all damn day. Every second alone he got he was practically running to the nearest window to look at the sky in search of a letter. It went on like this until the sun began to set, casting the Autumn Court sky a rich, golden glow. Eris finally returned to his rooms, lit the fire in the hearth and slumped into his chair. Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh of relief to finally get some peace and quiet.

A tapping sounded on his window startled him from his thoug. A piece of parchment was impatiently running itself into the glass on a phatntom wind and Eris shot from his chair to stumble over to the window and throw it open. He snatched the letter from the air and felt like the air was sucked from his lungs. He couldn’t breathe as he fumbled the letter open.

Dear Eris,

I want to start by thanking you for your candor and beautiful words. Secondly, I want to appologize for taking my time responding. I wanted to give you a response thoughtful and thorogh enough to encapsulate my true feelings. I want to know you, the real you, desperately. I want to see the good, the bad, and the ugly and to hold space for you to be. I don’t know where that desire comes from, but I feel it. You feel so familiar to me although we have only formally met once. Outside of my sisters you feel like the only right thing in this new world and new life. My kindness is not wasted on you, my dear. You are deserving and you are enough. Let me see your rough edges and I will show you mine.

Tentatively yours,

Y/n

Eris could have cried reading that letter, but instead he sucked in a deep breath that gave oxygen to the fire burning in his heart. He was trying not to allow himself to hope before, but now… Y/n had shattered all prospect of that. For the first time in a long time, Eris was hopeful. He laughed softly, joyfully, as he wrote back to her.

Little dove,

I can’t tell you how your words have effected me. I will hold onto these letters for all my enteral days and when you finally see me, and realize you shouldn’t associate with me, I will re-read your kind words and dream about a time that you saw me as worthy. Since you want to know me, here are a few small things: I own and care for a pack of hunting dogs, they’re called smokehounds. I tell everyone I don’t have a favorite, but that’s a lie, I do and her name is Willow. She is my oldest hound and has been my companion for many years. Smokehounds live much longer that any human dog, much like us Fae, but they sadly do not live eternal lives. The reason I tell no one that she’s my favorite is because I fear it being used against me. Compassion has always been seen as a weakness and something to exploit by my father and brothers. The next second fact about me is that until very recently, my favorite color was the marage of oranges and yellows of the trees in this court. Now, however, my favorite color is that of your eyes. Your stunning eyes that bless my dreams and every waking moment. I long for the next time I’m lucky enough to be in your presence and catch a glimpse of the gold flecks that litter them and the crease between your brows as you look at me like a puzzle to solve. Now, tell me about you, my dove.

Yours for as long as you let me,

Eris

Dear Eris,

I am at a loss for words. But for you, I will do my best to string some together. I think it’s beautiful that you have a favorite hound. I was never allowed an animal companion, but I always admired the hunters who had hounds to work with them, to share in their victories and comfort them in their losses. Tell me more about Willow. What does she like to hunt? What was she like as a pup? As for my favorite color, my answer is strikingly simlar to yours. Until recently, my favorite color was the deep green of a rain covered forrest. So dark that only the animals that lived there, and those with keen trained eyes could seem through the under brush. But now, my favorite color is the red of your hair that falls so delecately to your shoulders, and even though the rest of you is so sharp and put together, your hair still falls into your face. When I close my eyes to dream, I see your amber eyes and your soft auburn locks, and I dream of bruhsing the strands away form your eyes to look at your fully. Since we are being so honst with each other, I’m not embarassed to say such things. And I want to thank you for making me feel so comfortable to express my thoughts. I have lived so much of my life in silence, only broken by my sisters and not until we were too old to change each other’s ways. Us Archeron’s are stubborn ladies and we like to handle things on our own. I am grateful that after our mother died, we learned to lean on each other. It sounds like you have a much different relationship with your brothers… Tell me about that. If youre comfortable of course. I am growing rather fond of exchanging these letters.

Y/n

Little dove,

Please, never be embarassed for speaking your truth. I find you so refeshing and lovely. I have not felt this way for someone before. I am known for being cruel and ridgid and unyeilding, but you, Dove, have made me soft in a way I didn’t know I was capable of, and it feel so strange because I hardly know you at all. I have known your dear sisters to be stubborn, and I’m ammused to know it is a family trait. What was your mother like? Your father? My brothers are terrible and vile. All but my youngest, Lucien. I tried to protect them form my father’s corruption, but I failed them. Baron’s cruelty knows no bounds and he will go to any extreme for complete submission. My mother is the only light in this dark house and I have watched that light slowly dim my whole life. It scares me greatly. I am glad to hear that you found a support system in your sisters. That is a beautiful thing and something to be admired. You asked about Willow, and to answer, she has been with me for one hundred and fifty-seven years. Smoke hounds rarely make it past one-hundred and fifty. She has exceeded my expectations year after year since the day she was born. Her mother wandered off during a winter storm to give birth. When I went out to the den to check on her the next morning, I saw the trail of blood in the snow. I followed it straight to where she had curled up under a low tree branch and found all the puppies dead. All but Willow. The brave girl started barking at me to protect her falled family. She even bit me as I picked her up to tuck into my cloak. She warmed up to me as soon as we were inside by the fireplace. She has been my shadow since then. No longer hunting with me, but lays at my feet in my office and sleeps at the foot of my bed. If the maids have ever noticed the hair she’s left behind, they havent told anyone. Somehow, she knows that when we are outside of my bedchambers, I have to wear a mask of annoyance and indiffernece to her. She has never taken it personally and never loved me any less. I dread the day I lose her, my dearest friend.

Yours,

Eris

Y/n’s POV

Weeks pass in a blur while Y/n and Eris exchange letters daily, each of them still going about their regular duties and responsibilies. Y/n, continuing her training with Cassian and Azriel, strengthening her magic with Rhysand, and furthering her education of Prythian’s history with Amren. She also found plenty of time to spend time with Nesta at the House of Wind, occasionally Eris’ letters found her there and she could talk to her oldest sister about their growing relationship, giggling like a little girl. Y/n had never been in love before, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it felt a little something like this.

While she trained and learned, the rest of the Inner Cirlce was preparing for a High Lord’s meeting that would be cunducted in the Dawn Court. It would be the first time Feyre and Rhys would see Tamlin since Hibern, and Tarquin since they betrayed him. It would also be Y/n’s first time seeing Eris. And though she knew they would likely not even be able to make eye contact more than once, she was giddy at the chance to be in the same room as him.

They would be leaving in the morning for Dawn, and Y/n couldn’t sleep. So she sent a letter to Eris.

Dearest Eris,

I fear I can not sleep, for my body is alight with excitement. Excitement to see a new court, yes… but truthfully, the root of my excitement is getting to see you. Even if we cant be as close as I wish for us to be, I look forward to catching your burning gaze once or twice. Promise you’ll space me a glace?

Yours,

Y/n

My Dove,

I promise. I must tell you that it will be quite the struggle not to stare at you for the entirety of the meeting. My soul calls to yours and I fear being in such close proximity will test my strength greatly. If you would allow me such a gift, I would like to meet you after the meeting. Long after everyone has gone to their own chambers, I would desperately like to meet you in the hallway. Hold your gentle, caloused hands, stare into your captivating eyes, and take in your intoxicating scent. I’m willing to beg for it.

Wholly yours,

Eris

Dearest Eris,

I eagly await tomorrow’s arrival.

Yours,

Y/n

Y/n hardly slept a wink the rest of that night and was startled awake by Cassian banging on her door.

“Y/n!! Wake up! Everyone’s ready to winnow out of here and you’re holding us up!”

“Coming!!” Luckily, Feyre had already helped her pack and set out a dress for the meeting. The Dawn Court was warmer than Night, but not as hot as Day. The dress they selected had long sleves but was made of a gossimer type fabric that flowed around her as she rushed around the room getting herself together. They allowed her to stay out of the shades of black that this court is known for, and instead she dawned a dress of greys and whites. Like a cloud of smoke. Dainty red flats aroned her feet, swallowed by the skirt of the gown. Her own secret piece of Eris.

Y/n ran down the hallway and slid ot a halt, tossing her gab at Rhys. “Catch!”

Rhys opened a portal to the pocket dimension inches away from his face where the bag was aimed. “Nice try Y/n. Your aim is improving.” Patting her on her shoulder and smiling at her with a small gimler of pride. “Ready to go?” Rhys raked his eyes around the room and with a nod from everyone, they partnered up and winnowed to the Dawn Court.

Dawn was stunning. Y/n had expected nothing less. She had asked Amren all about it during their history lessons, and Eris of what he knew of it through their letters. The tall ceilings and elegant art work hanging from the walls had her in a state of awe. That awe multiplied ten-fold when Eris walked in with his court. His father entered first, not bothering to look at anyone other than the other High Lords essembled. Eris was right behind him, wearing a calm, bored expression. His brothers entered next, all wearing sneers and sinister grins looking right to the inner circle. Their father didn’t bother to check them. But Eris did. A step behind his father, Eris murmered, “Enough,” and his younger brothers fell into line. All three of them. Eris kept his promise, and spared Y/n a glance. His eyes softened and those pools of molten gold swept her away. Suddenly and without warning, her heart stopped beating and a golden thread was pulled tight between them. His eyes widened inperceptibly as that golden thread snaped.

Mate.

The rest of the meeting was a disaster and no real consesus was drawn. Everyone decided to reconvene the next morning and Thesan was kind enough to house them all for the night. Y/n and Eris had somehow managed to wordlessly decide to put up a glamour to hind the scent of the mating bond, and they hardly made eye contact. The only times they did were when Eris let a tiny bit of fear slip down the bond whenever Baron started to get riled up. It took all of Y/n’s power to stay still when Azriel lunged across the table to attack him. Eris had called Mor a slut, so Y/n couldn’t say she was surprised, but she wished he didn’t have to make it so hard to prove to people that he was a good male.

After much deliberation with the inner circle back in their wing of the castle, Rhys finally sent everyone to bed. Y/n made the excuse that she was going to make more tea before going, and with hugs from Feyre and Rhys, and bids goodnight from Mor, Az and Cassian, Y/n was finally alone. She was serious about the tea, and when it was thoroghly steeped, she grabbed the two mugs and used her magic to create air cushions to silnce her foot steps and padded down the grand hallway. Out of her formal gown, Y/n wore a chocolate brown sweater and loose grey pants. The pants were so long, they once again covered up her little red slippers.

When she reached the private garden for this wing of the castle, she sat down on the edge of the fountain to wait for Eris. Her mate.

Eris’ POV

Baron was snoring almost as soon as they reached their wing of the elaborate castle. It was his brothers that he had to wait out. When they had their fill of the liqour Thesan had left in the rooms, they went to their bedchambers to sleep it off. As Eris was sneaking toward the door that would lead him to the rest of the castle’s hallways, his mother stepped in front of him. “Where are you going my dear?’

“Mother, I have to go, I will explain later. Please, excuse me-“

“Are you going to see her? The one you’ve been exchanging letters with?”

“How-“

“Eris, my darling boy, what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t notice my own son was in love?”

“She’s my mate, mother.” Eris’ voice was barely audible, and the crack in it made a tear roll down the Lady of Autumn’s cheek.

“My love, I am so happy for you. Go to her. Tell me everything when we are home and safe from unwanted ears.” She cupped her son’s cheek and gave him a quick kiss to the other before turning away and walking back toward her own room.

Eris let out a shaky breath and went out the door. Once he was standing in the hall, he opened his side of the bond. He sent cautious optomism down it that was returned with reasurance and hope. He followed that tug all through the winding halls until he was stood before the gateway to the garden.

He saw her before she saw him, and he took the moment to appreciate her in this place. No longer dolled up, but comfortable in her too-large sweater. And with her leg propped up on the bench, her chin resting on her knee, he could see the firey red slippers she had on. That alone made a stream of love shoot down the bond involuntarily, and Y/n gasped as she looked up to see him standing just on the otherside of the gate. The love that came back to him just about made his knees buckle.

Wasting no more time, he threw the gate open and took quick long strides until he was towering over her. Slowly, Y/n stood to close the distance between them. They were so close that with every breath, their chests touched. Tentatively, slowly, Y/n moved her hands to hold his, and brought each of them to her lips to kiss the tops of them. Eris wasn’t breathing. And it wasn’t Y/n magic that stole the air from his lungs, it was just her. Using all his strength, he looked her in the eyes and saw his own soul mirrored in hers.

“Hello, my dove.” Eris spoke just above a whisper.

“Hello, my mate.” Y/n eyes shone with hope and awe, but the slight furrow in her brows gave away her confusion.

“Mate.” Eris blew out a breath and said, “I am sorry it had to be me.”

The wrinkle between her brows deepened. “Don’t do that. Don’t say that.”

Eris smiled slightly, “It’s true, my dear. You’ve been cursed. Must have to do with the whole ‘cauldron made’ thing.”

“Eris, I am not sorry. I wanted it to be you so badly. You are the only thing that makes sense in this new body, in this new world. I want it to be you.”

“You don’t mean that.” Eris tried to stop the self-depricating thoughts that flooded his mind, but he couldn’t get a grip on them. He was wrong and wicked and bad. And she was so good and kind and beautiful. The Mother made a mistake and he had to protect this delicate female before him or this world, he, would ruin her.

Y/n let go of his hands and he thought he might die. But then she moved them to cradle his jaw in her small, cold hands, and his mind went silent. The world seemed to stand still as she forced his eyes to meet hers once again.

“I want you. I want to continue to lay my soul bare to you and for you to do the same. That is all I am asking. Let me decide. I have been able to decide so little in my life, so please do not take that from me. If you decide for me that you are not worthy, I do not think I could bare it. I think this is the closest I’ve ever come to being in love and now that this- this bond has snapped, I can hardly stand being two feet away from you. I feel as though there is one too many of us; the seperation into two bodies is unbareable.”

Eris reached his right hand to cup her cheek, and the left to wipe away the stray tears that fell down her lovely face.

“I only understand your feelings because I feel them too, but I can not understand how I could ever be deserving of such a mate. I am quite choked with tenderness for you, my love, it makes me a bit pathetic to love you so much. What a privilege it is to matter to you. My mate.” Bless the bond for not allowing him to think for a minute that her feelings were not true. He could feel her senserity and it was now her turn to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I never, in my 500 years, thought that I would have a mate. I was resigned to the fact that one day, my father would find some poor female to wed me to and we would live a sad, lonely life together. To have found you now, after all these years, Y/n, you don’t understand what a gift you are. A bright light in a very dark, long tunnel.”

“Eris?”

“Yes, dove?”

“Will- will you kiss me please?”

He wasted no time. The kiss started passionate and heated and desperate. Grabbing each other’s faces and clothes, trying to clawl into the same skin. But slowly, the kissed turned gentle and loving and kind. The kind of kiss that two people who have spent a lifetime together share. A kiss of knowing and familiarity, because after all, they are two halves of the same coin.

Taglist: @abysshaven @myromanempiree @lilah-asteria @96jnie @ivy-34 @minaethrym @nebarious @anxious-study @slytherintaco @talesofadragon @paleidiot @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @tenebrisirae @st4r-girl-official @idkwahr @anyzandy

#autumn court #eris acotar #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x y/n #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

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arvandus · 9 months ago

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Daily Drabble #6 - Longing

Diavolo x GN!Reader

Warnings: None; just fluff <3

NOTE: WHILE THIS WRITING IS SFW, THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DNI/FOLLOW OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!

Diavolo has wanted to kiss you for forever.

But he doesn’t. He can’t bring himself to do it.

It’s not about what others will think.

It’s not about his position as prince and you being a human.

It’s not even about you being mortal, your lifespan a fraction of his.

It’s not about any of those things. None of those reasons matter. Not a single one would hold any weight or importance so long as you loved him back. He’d already accomplished the unexpected more than once; taking in fallen angels, creating an exchange program to broker peace between the three realms... what would one more miracle be?

No, it was because even if he kissed you... even if your lips reciprocated... he wouldn’t be able to entirely trust that it was real. That you felt for him the way he felt for you.

It was an unavoidable risk that came with being the prince. So many times, he’d watched as others bent themselves backwards for him. How they catered to his desires, eager to please and gain favor, or on the opposite end, avoid punishment.

Not that he ever punished unnecessarily. He was a fair ruler; he knew that much.

But millennia of others attempting to anticipate his needs, accommodate him, manipulate him...

He was fortunate that he could tell when others lied.

Which was why he would never ask you. Not outright; he couldn’t bring himself to watch you lie to him, to hear your voice say one answer while your soul shimmered something different.

He couldn’t kiss you without permission, and he was far too cowardly to ask for it.

Which was why he was utterly stunned when you kissed him first.

It was quiet, private. Just the two of you in his library, late at night as you poured over ancient texts looking for a solution to the latest Devildom dilemma (they were never-ending, after all...). You spoke together in hushed whispers, despite the empty space and the sleeping castle. But then a soft silence fell over the two of you, and you looked up at him, your gaze holding his. Your hands rested side by side on the table, pinkies barely brushing.

You sucked in a breath for bravery and then leaned forward and kissed him.

It was soft, but quick. Diavolo hardly had time to react, his eyes widening before you pulled away, your head ducked bashfully.

“S-Sorry...” you whispered.

Diavolo blinked as heat made his neck and cheeks burn.

“You kissed me,” he said dumbly.

“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... you know...”

Now he was confused because you weren’t lying. You were genuinely sorry, as if you regretted it. His brow furrowed. “Was it an accident?”

“Wha...?” your eyes widened and you shook your head slightly. “I mean, no, but...”

“But you’re apologizing. Did you not want to kiss me?”

Now it was your turn to feel hot, and you felt yourself bristle defensively. “Of course I did!”

Also a truth. Diavolo’s confusion deepened. Humans were so weird...

“But you apologized. Why?” he persisted.

“I-I don’t know! I guess... “ you mumbled low, but Diavolo’s superior hearing caught every word, “I thought you didn’t like it--”

Diavolo’s lips interrupted your words, your face suddenly cupped in his large hands as he kissed you gently. He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, your face still in his hands.

“I liked it,” he whispered.

A great sigh of relief escaped your lips. “Good. Because I was about to die on the spot of embarrassment.”

Diavolo chuckled and kissed you again, and this time you leaned into it, a content hum purring from your chest.

He pulled away again slightly, and your mouth tried to follow him, but he held you still, his brow creased. “Forgive me, but I have to ask.... why did you kiss me?”

Your embarrassment returned full force, defenses up. “Why do you think??”

There was a hesitance in him. “Humor me. Please.”

You stared at him for a long moment, recognizing his need, understanding why. Still, the fact that you had to say it out loud when you’d kept it silent for so very long...

“Because I love you,” you whispered.

A soft breath of relief left his lungs and he smiled, his eyes shining like gemstones. “And it’s not because I’m the future king of the Devildom?” he teased.

It was a half-joke, a bitter pill of doubt and worry wrapped in the sweet sugar of humor to make it more palatable.

You gave a soft laugh. “It’d make this a lot easier if you weren’t the prince of hell...” Your expression sobered to one of gentle affection and you cupped his face with your hand. “I kissed you, Diavolo, because I love you. I love you, and I want you to be mine.”

Your thumb stroked his cheekbone as your eyes took in the features of his face, his hair...

“My Diavolo...” you whispered, your words a promise and a blessing.

The lingering fear in his eyes faded, giving way to rich, warm longing. He covered your hand with his and turned his face to kiss the inside of your palm.

“I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours.”

#Diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #diavolo #obey me diavolo #diavolo obey me #om diavolo #diavolo om #obey me #obey me nightbringer #omswd #omnb

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erose-this-name · 4 months ago

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The Goat is a Scapegoat

Since I’m writing this before the update, so still don’t know WHAT THE HECK IS GOaT’S DEAL LIKE WHAT EVEN ARE THEY? I’m just analyzing the symbolism.

I think the Goat (I like to call them Billie) is not a goat for no reason. Obviously, goats are very heavily associated with demons and the occult, which is kinda this game’s whole thing.

But, I don’t think the Goat is just some generic sabbatic goat, I think the Goat is specifically meant to be a scapegoat.

The Lamb is literally a sacrificial lamb (which is a metaphor of someone that is sacrificed for a greater good, e.g. Jesus “Lamb of God” Christ. And our player character’s story in the game is based on that. Lamb’s first death was for the “greater good” of the Old Faith, and every death after that was again for the sake of someone else [Narinder]. You only later get to take fate back into your own hands by refusing to be sacrificed again.).

So, it’d make sense if player 2 the Goat is also inspired by existing religious/occultic symbolism and metaphor. Out of all the associations goats have, scapegoat makes the most sense to me. A scapegoat is someone who is sacrificed to absolve another of sin. It’s similar enough to the concept of the sacrificial lamb to work as a foil while still being interestingly distinct.

(Which, by the way, I’ve seen some people imagining what players 3 and 4 might look like, but it’s always just another caprinae? An antelope? I feel like the fact goats and sheep are related is coincidental, Massive Monster is going for the sacrificial animals/satanic symbolism here. Player 3 and 4 would be a bull {Moloch} and a snake.)

In my head cannon, the Goat wasn’t sacrificed by the bishops to prevent a prophecy, their death was not meant to avert some wrath from an avenging death god. But they sure as heck were hunted.

In Goat’s universe, Narinder (who is a doggy, of course) is never imprisoned, so there was no prophecy. Even so, the Bishops are still cursed by their sin, guilty of acts so profane and unnatural they are unforgivable except by death. They committed a horrible crime against Shamura, the most innocent, who cared for and raised each of them as if they were their own spiderlings, Shamura is the one they love most of all.

So intense is the Bishops’ guilt and regret, so pure their sin, it’s begun to eat away at them and physically deform them, blinding, muting, deafening, maddening, paralyzing. And it corrupts their divine domains, where there were once benevolent gods of Peace, Plenty, Healing, Knowledge, and Death, there are now bitter gods of Chaos, Famine, Plague, a-and Death still —but, like, even scarier death!

Since the only way to be absolved of such a crime is to die, and they don’t wanna do that, they must find a surrogate to die in their stead. So they blame it on some random vulnerable minority. The goats! So they genocide all the goats until there was only one left, “the Goat”, who now both metaphorically and literally holds all the gods’ sins. With their death, the bishops' atonement shall finally be complete.

Yeah, except that Shamura, corrupted into the fell mad god of war, has not forgiven them, so makes the Goat their undying Vessel and sends them to deliver just punishments and executions to the four bishops.

As to why the Goat is helping the Lamb? While Lamb is a messianic figure, Goat is a sin-eater. The Goat can never escape their nature of being a perpetual scapegoat, always taking on the guilt and responsibility of others, whether they want to or not. Forced to swallow the sin of four dark gods, burdened by it since the very moment they were born, certainly can’t have any positive effects on the soul, metaphysically and psychologically. Even though they’ve cleansed themself of sins in a baptism of divine ichor, that cavernous void it left in their heart will just refill again.

Why could I not save the goats? Why did I sacrifice so many of my own followers?

No matter what choices the Goat makes, they will always feel guilty about something, because they have never gotten to know what it’s like to be allowed to be innocent.

Perhaps, by walking their path a second time, by atoning twice, by helping another in a similar position to themself, by dying repeatedly in their stead on the field of battle, Goat will finally be free.

Goat never kills Shamura since that would not redeem them, it would not allow them to stop being a scapegoat like how it allowed Lamb to stop being a sacrificial lamb. That would only be possible through enlightenment, by finally internalizing that it was never their fault.

Then again, maybe Goat is just a heckin’ weirdo who really likes fighting and mogging sheep. They are the chosen vessel of war, after all.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl goat #cotl unholy alliance #cotl lamb #fanfic

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emmafrostdefender · 3 months ago

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a fine line between god and animal | logan howlett x fem reader

prologue - that which cannot be held in your hand | masterlist

your mother was a god-fearing woman. but she feared you much more. some part of you was wrong, at least in the eyes of god, but you answered to something much bigger. and so did he.

hi friends, this was written when i was struck with inspiration by the one and only ethel cain. of course, the inspiration was paired with my recent renewed interest in wolverine and x-men. some of the characters are more like how they are in the comics because the movie writers did them dirty! like jean slays in the comics okay! anyways, i wanted to write about wolverine and it be sexy in an ethel cain way. do we get the vibe? i hope so. also, i, in fact, do not have religious trauma but if you do this might be the story for you. enjoy.

warnings: cursing, religion, religious trauma (will pick up), lowkey a lot of blasphemy, people be bad sometimes, reader's mother was not chill, a ton of exposition (sorry!), i’m writing this mainly for practice (especially regarding dialogue, so that’s why some of it might be kinda choppy), definitely won't be canon compliant, 4k words

━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━

By the grace of some unholy god were you created.

The priest with silver hair expelled the demons from you; those crawling, crushing, wriggling, squirming demons that lived within you. Those demons that whispered in your ears, caressing your skull with a language lost to time. They pushed to be revealed. Today, your mother shoved you to your knees before the altar of your true Mother, the Mother of all. “Holy Mother, bless this rotten soul,” she whispered by your side, eyes clenched shut. You watched her. There were no tears, not for your lost soul. Your rotten soul. As if your morality was like an apple. Something that could shrivel up and die if left too long in the scorching sun.

Your skin crawled under the light that beat down on you through the skylights of the church. The air was thick with incense and smoke from the ever-burning candles. The stench filled your nose. Your mother grasped your hand in hers, forcing you to focus on her words. She spoke so quietly, so quickly, you’d think she was chanting some spell. Something to save you from your fate.

“Heavenly Father, take the Devil’s spirit from her body; take this ugly, horrid wickedness from her.”

You closed your eyes, not in prayer, but to lend your ears elsewhere. To the birds chirping outside. The wind whistling through the trees.

You were connected to nature. In some primal, peaceful way.

Before your father died, he would take you into the woods and you would wander together. Sometimes you would pack supplies for overnight trips, sometimes you would bring nothing but your spirit with you. Now, you thought he knew that something was different about you before you did. When you were a stumbling child, he knew. There were days he would force you to lead the both of you back to safety after getting you lost in the middle of the woods. Force you to reveal yourself to him. The part of you that God shunned.

And you did.

Your spirit became one with the natural world around you. You could hear and smell and see. For what felt like the first time. It was a beautiful thing that came over you.

The trees spoke to you, in their ancient language lost to humanity. And you spoke back. Using sounds that had never before emerged from your lips.

And they led you home.

Never once did your father ostracize you for your gift. That’s what he called it. A gift.

When you turned sixteen, your gift shifted. You fought back as it reared its ugly head at you. It pushed and pulled at your insides, begging to be released fully. The day your father died, lying still in a sterile hospital bed, it burst out of you. The monotonous tone that rang out death filled your ears as you lay beside him on the thin sheets. He wasn’t supposed to die like this. Not here. The thought blared in your brain. He should’ve been somewhere he could see the sky, the trees, the clouds, not the plastered ceiling of a hospital room.

In your memory, nothing changed. But your mother, eyes blurry with tears, watched as something inside you morphed. You became still, grasping your father’s hand, and whispered something that sounded to her like sin. The tongue of some animal, some demon. She watched as her daughter became something unholy. Your eyes went pitch black, your skin glowing with a soft light. And suddenly, vines were creeping into the room from all around.

Through the window, the door, from the cracks in the ceiling. Crawling to the thrumming in your veins. The winds answered your call, blasting open the window, broken glass scattering across the linoleum floor. Your mother screamed at the sound.

As vines wrapped around your ankles, around your father’s bed, your mother watched as you continued your senseless muttering. She couldn’t move to stop you. She began to chant a prayer of protection. For herself, for her husband’s lifeless body, for your soul.

Anger filled your spirit, the anger of a thousand year old mother. Tar filled your veins, smoke filled your lungs, oil in your eyes. The drilling, the pounding, the burning, the slaughtering. It all pushed into your brain as the vines choked your soul. And you screamed.

Your mother grabbed the metal tray from your father’s final meal and slammed it against your head.

And she continued to pray. Gripping your hand until it hurt. And you let her. Let her expel the demon from you.

Your bare skin bathes in the moonlight shining through the early autumn foliage as you sit on your knees before a different altar.

You cringe at the memory of your bruised knees and that crushing hold on your hand. Begging God to turn you into a flower, while your mother begged for your mortal soul.

You shake your head to clear the memory. That was ten years ago now. Seventeen and terrified of who you were, what you were. She was wrong about you and you were wrong about you.

The day the priest came to perform another exorcism of sorts, something that had no effect on you whatsoever, a new man had entered your bedroom. A man in a wheelchair. Professor Charles Xavier. He saved you.

Made your mother forget who you were.

And you came to live on a beautiful estate in upstate New York with people like you. Mutants. A word used in such a way you had never heard before in extremely rural Oklahoma. “What do you mean, mutant?” You asked, not sure if you should feel insulted.

Professor X looked at you from across the plasticky diner table, studying your features. You studied his right back. Soft eyes and a kind smile. Such a stark contrast from your mother’s severe gaze and thin-lipped grimace. “Mutants are like regular people, only with a mutated gene that gives them special abilities. I’ve been studying mutants and their mutations for decades. Each mutant I meet is unique and you are no exception.”

Your eyebrow raised ever-so-slightly as you sipped on a strawberry milkshake. “How many are there?”

And so began your relationship with Charles Xavier. He became your mentor, someone to go to for guidance. He assisted you in harnessing your abilities, treating them like a muscle to train rather than a burden to bear. And yet, every night you prayed to God that you could be rid of it. That you could go back home and live a normal life.

In your years at the mansion, friendships blossomed all around you. You never made friends easily back home, but here they came quickly and firmly.

And you felt complete. You are complete. You remind yourself.

Something deep inside of you grumbles in response.

You ignore it and stretch your arms to the sky, cupping the moon in your hands. The moon is slightly out of your jurisdiction, but she controls the tide, which controls the winds. It all works in harmony, you’ve learned. When another girl with similar mutant abilities arrived at the mansion a few years after yourself, you became close partners. Storm, Ororo by birth, was your closest companion. She had striking white hair and a piercing gaze and a personality to match. In combat, she is your most trusted partner.

You spin your arms in a practiced circle, beginning to feel the thrumming of power in your veins. Every full moon, Charles would send you out into the woods of the estate to become one with your abilities. He says the most dangerous mutant is a mutant that severs all connection to their powers. One that has no real idea what they are capable of. “They could destroy a whole city and not understand why,” he replied when you first asked him the meaning of these exercises. “You must be in tune with yourself if you ever want to feel some semblance of control.”

Control. The word forced a shiver down your spine. Mother Nature revolts at it.

And yet, you managed to tame the primal part of yourself. The part that screamed to be let loose.

The world pulses around you as your eyes flutter shut. This is your favorite part of the night. When you merge with the natural world. When you feel and hear and see everything around you. The flapping of an owl’s wings. The beat of a young doe’s heart. The smell of the moss and the dirt and the stream miles away. You feel another heartbeat. This one is firmer. More distinct. It reminds you of the steady thumping of your father’s heart when you would lay on his chest as a small child. You can’t pinpoint its location. It seems to come from everywhere at once. A sense of serenity washes over you.

And you simply listen.

You spread your fingers on the plush grass below you, feeling that heartbeat skitter along your skin and wash itself in the blood that pulses through your veins. You hear the sound of drifting snow, feel its cold sting before it melts against warm skin. Your eyes scrunch up as you focus. The thought of even wondering what you’re tuning into never crosses your mind. You just want to keep feeling and hearing. Your gluttony for the senses takes over and you taste the sheen of melted snow on this stranger’s skin as if you licked it yourself. Salt and something man. You hum. And then you smell something so distinctly like smoke that you are thrown from your reverie. Your body repulses against itself and you cough. Being connected to Earth has its disadvantages.

Desire to return to that state of complete contentment fills your mind, but you stand. Your nude form basks in the moonlight for not a minute longer. You shrug a pretty little silk robe on and make your way back to the mansion. Although it is early October and New York has not yet succumbed to the winter weather, you still feel the keen chill of snow.

As you slowly walk back to the mansion, the new thrum of energy courses through you. It spreads down your legs to the pads of your feet, which leave trails of newborn flowers. As quickly as they are born, they die. The circle of life and death. Darkness and light.

The exact breadth of your powers is still unknown to you and your fellow mutants. Before being taken in by Professor X, you thought they were limited to simply being one with nature. The memory of your father’s death and the events that quickly followed were hazy, but being far away from your mother and her religious zeal allowed you to connect to that piece of your past. To your chagrin, Charles refused to go into your mind to help you remember. It took you two months to fully remember the events. Memories came in dreams, waves of disconnected images all straining in your mind. The first night Charles sent you into the woods to “figure it out,” the pieces fell into place.

And you finally knew yourself again.

Now, you’ve chalked your abilities up to being a reincarnation of Mother Nature, a realization that pulls at the small cross that rests in the hollow of your neck. Despite the trauma incurred by your mother in the name of the righteous God, that part of yourself hasn’t been severed. You remember your father knelt in the church, clasping the chain around your neck, thereby forever bonding you to your faith. You’ve never feared any man you’ve gone against in combat, but you fear the one waiting to judge you.

If He’d even bestow that luxury upon you.

You look up at the sky as you step through the woods, drawing lines between the stars like the ancients. Stringing stories and myths and legends. You wonder if the monsters of olde were simply mutants, like you. Misunderstood and begging to be believed.

The soft glow of the mansion enters your vision. The weight of sleep hits you in the shoulders and you slouch to the back entrance. All the young mutants are asleep at this time, but you hear the skittering of a few rebels in the halls. The mansion never fails to awe you, with its tall wooden walls and bright windows. A far cry from your small rancher of a childhood home. You pass the main entrance and make your way up the stairs that lead to your bedroom on the third floor. This floor is for the older mutants, the X-Men.

Originally, you declined Charles’ offer to be a part of the mutant bad-guy-fighting team. A lack of confidence in yourself, you realized later on. The belief that something was still too wrong with you to even have the ability to help anyone. That belief changed rather quickly.

When you realized there wasn’t much of a place for mutants in this world, you accepted his offer. You took on the name Proserpina, the Roman goddess of spring, at the behest of your teammates. Despite your initial disdain towards the alias, you soon grew fond of the name.

Your ears perk up at the sound of whispering voices down the hall.

Coming from Jean’s room.

Jean Grey is another member of the X-Men and another close friend of yours. You were one of the first people she met when she arrived at the mansion a few years ago. You were the first to confront her about her obvious feelings for Scott Summers, who is something of a brother to you, before she even recognized them herself. You are the first person she goes to whenever she feels out of control, which seems to be more frequently as of late. “He wants you and Storm to track them down,” she says in a soft voice.

“Just the two of us?” Scott asks.

You assume she nods.

You raise your eyebrow. Track who down?

Deciding to enter the conversation, you continue to her room and open the cracked door fully. “What, so Charles doesn’t want me tracking anymore?” You question with a hand on your hip.

They both stand in the center of the room and turn their heads to look at you. Jean rubs at the space between her eyebrows. “Not necessarily. He just isn’t sure you should go on this one.”

“Why? Is it because we’d be fighting Captain Capitalism or something?”

Scott quirks a smile. “He’s found another prospect for the X-Men.”

“And how does that impact my ability to find them?”

Jean approaches you slowly. “Don’t be offended, honey, but sometimes you come off a bit…”

“Bitchy,” Scott finishes with his arms folded across his chest.

Your mouth drops open and you move to slap him or punch him or kick him, but Jean puts her hand on your sternum. “I meant to say, you can come off a bit guarded. And that isn’t always helpful with new recruits.”

“But no one is better at tracking than me,” you say with a pout. “Besides the obvious.”

“Sorry, babe, Charles isn't letting you come on this one,” Scott says with a grin. “Too bad.”

You flick him in the forehead and he flinches. “Asshole.”

“You can stay here and help me with my exercises. Charles is trying to get me to move a car,” Jean suggests. “I know,” she says in response to your eyebrow raise.

“You can barely move a book without it flying at your face. Or, in most cases, my face.”

She shrugs. “Out of the frying pan and into the fryer, I guess.”

“Fine. I’ll be nice.” You turn to leave and toss a dismissive hand up behind you at Scott. “Good luck tracking without me, bitch.”

He hums. “Goodnight.”

As you shut the door he throws out, “Can’t wait to bring them back in record time tomorrow!”

Them. So it’s multiple. Interesting.

That night, your dreams are filled with images of your old church. The windows stain everything around you a blood red.

You are on your knees before the altar of Mary. But today, her hands are folded away from you. She scorns you with a downwards glance of repulsion. You know this isn’t real. It’s not real.

Yet, your body burns in her gaze. Your skin is on fire and no one is there to quell it. You are chained to the floor by your hands, you feel your chest being cracked open to onlookers. Your heart is yanked from your ribs, your impure blood oozing from gray hands. Roaming hands belonging to a wisp of smoke pull at your bones, branding them in silver. Bugs crawl out of the cavity in your chest, maggots and cockroaches. You scream and the onlookers laugh. Your body vibrates with fear and disgust. And you scream.

You wake with hands pinned to the bed by your own force, your necklace set between your teeth.

Your nightgown is soaked in sweat, sticking to your skin. Your heartbeat pumps hard and fast in your ears, an almost unbearable sensation. Not the way you hoped the night would go.

Despite appearances, you are used to the nightmares that plague you whenever there is a full moon. With the resurgence of your power, comes a resurgence of memories.

You spit the cross out of your mouth and slam your head against your pillow.

Dawn has skipped across the sky, bringing streaks of hazy light into the darkness. You stare at the ceiling, allowing your heart to return to its usual rate.

It seems like the dreams are only getting worse with time. You thought they would subdue after a few years, but they’ve been building steadily. And you would never tell Charles that, lest he pry into your brain and see for himself. You couldn’t let him, or anyone, see that part of you. The part you worked so hard to tamp down. It would only make things harder.

Therapy for one?

You laugh in self-pity and sit up, your muscles tense. You stretch out your arms, moving them in circular motions as you control your breathing. The last thing the team needs is something else to worry about. Magneto, your main opposition, has been pushing harder and harder toward his goal of world-domination and mutant-superiority. Charles doesn’t need another burden. You crack your neck and stand.

Your room has floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the gardens and the woods. A special request you made the first time you moved in. You can just barely see the sun beginning to peak over the horizon, glimmering off the dewy leaves.

Someone knocks on your door. “Yes?” you ask, turning to face the entrant.

The only other person ever up this early is Storm. She stands before you in her leather suit, stark white hair hanging by her shoulders. “Put some clothes on, Charles wants to speak with you.”

“You don’t think he’d appreciate this?” You gesture to your sweat-stained dress.

“Bad dream?”

You shrug. “I was actually having very passionate sex with Christian Bale.”

“Slut!” She smiles, but her eyes see right through your lie.

You wink. “Always.”

Ororo is the only person you’ve let see the terrified side of you. The side that you keep locked away. And it makes your skin crawl when she sees straight through you. As if she’s the one that can read minds.

When you’ve changed into a sweater and jeans, you follow Ororo downstairs to the professor’s study. The sun has fully risen by now, along with many of the students. You dodge sleepy children and annoyed teenagers as you make your way to the study.

“I’ll wait out here for you,” Ororo says softly as you open the study door.

“I feel like I’m about to be scolded for something.”

She laughs.

You shut the door behind you and see Charles sitting at his desk. “Good morning, Professor.”

“Take a seat.”

You grin as you make your way to the plush seats in front of his desk. “Am I in trouble?”

He smiles back. “No, you’re not in trouble. But I did need to speak with you.”

You nod, allowing him to continue.

“I understand that you already know about the retrieval mission Scott and Ororo are to be sent on today?”

“Yes, I overheard Jean mention it to Scott last night.”

He hums. “How was your night besides?”

He’s referring to your monthly ritual. You smile. “It went well.”

“Anything interesting occur?” he asks with a quirk of his brow.

You narrow your eyes slightly. Is he asking about the dreams? You pivot. “Not really. I seemed to connect to someone far away, though. That hasn’t really happened before.”

He nods, a glint in his eye. He knows you’re omitting something. But he lets you get away with it by switching the topic. “I suppose you might be wondering why I’m not sending you on this particular retrieval?”

You shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. “I mean, it crossed my mind. But it’s your decision.”

“I’m not sending you not because you aren’t useful, you must understand. Or because of you’re 'attitude,' which I must admit, I disagree with. You are truly the best tracker we have. And you are fairly good at calming new people down. However, I have recently been made aware of a plot by Lehnsherr to somehow use you to further his plans,” he says with a straight look on his face.

Before you register the second part of his statement, you feel smug pride at the fact that you were right and Scott was wrong. “Wait, he wants me?”

Charles nods. “Yes, it seems he believes your mutation would be useful to him. But I am not aware of how exactly.”

“How were you able to read his mind?”

“We were both at a speech given by Senator Robert Kelly a few days ago. I found his mind in my scan of the room. His is much different from everyone else.”

The unspoken part: We are connected.

The professor never seems to fully admit the strong connection he has to Erik Lehnsherr, but you sensed it the same way you sensed Jean and Scott. It might be different, it might be the same, but the history they share has never fully dissolved.

You wonder if a part of your mutation is sensing innate connections between people. That invisible force that pulls some together, while pulling others apart. That which cannot be held in your hand. You suppose it is something only nature could define.

He continues. “He believes that your connection to nature could be used in conjunction with his control over metal. How? I’m not sure. I’m not sure even he knows.”

You consider this, bringing your hands together. “So you’re nervous I wouldn’t be able to hold my own against his goons?”

“Not necessarily. But if you were abducted, we might not be able to reach you. It’s safer if you stay here with all the protections this mansion affords.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

“It’s the only reason I need.” He looks at you with such care that your annoyance pauses. “If not sending you on a monotonous tracking mission means keeping you from uneccessary harm, then I will do it. Even if it upsets you.”

You break his gaze and sigh. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

He leans back in his chair and smiles.

“I just hate seeing Scott’s ‘I-did-better-than-you’ face. He’s so smug,” you whine.

“You two have that in common, I see.”

The grin that spreads across your lips is impossible to fight.

Scott and Ororo board the jet after an hour of briefing from the professor about where the mutants are most likely located. Somewhere in Canada. Far, far north.

Before they head off, Scott ruffles your hair. “Hey, don’t look so disappointed. You can stay here and grow some flowers or something.”

You shove his hand away from you. “Shut up.”

“Save that fire for when we get back. You never know what these mutants are going to be like. They could be gearing up for a fight.”

“I think I’ll just let you handle that, since you’re so confident you’ll even be able to find them properly without me.”

“It’s not just confidence. It’s a guarantee,” he says with a grin.

“Whatever. Be safe.”

“Always am. Keep Jean company.”

“Mhm. ‘Bye now!” You say with a wave of your hand.

Jean exits the jet where she was speaking to Ororo and comes to stand next to you. Ororo gives you a thumbs up and she and Scott exit your line of sight. Although you would never admit it, you like going on these missions to keep your teammates safe. And not being able to protect them itches at your skin. Before you go crazy pacing in the hangar of the jet after it takes off, just waiting for them to get back, Jean reminds you of her own practice.

“Time to move that car!” You say with gusto, hooking your arm with hers.

You fight the urge to glance behind you. Your other hand comes up to worry the cross at your neck. They’ll be fine.

ugh i know i know she didn't meet him this chapter aw man....

#wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x you #xmen #x men #xmen fanfiction #xmen x reader

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